Did I mention that Mr Greedy has gone on strike? The relentlessness of food critiquing was finally getting to him, poor boy.

Our early years saw him slobbering away like a Great Dane on washing powder every time we went out – living the dream.

To be fair, he’s chowed through good and bad, from the brilliant and inspired to the downright embarrassing and inedible, with enormous amounts of mediocre in between, from festival banquets in fancy dress to pop ups in fields, and the odd fast food joint thrown in for good measure.

And then, somewhere along the way, it lost its sparkle. “It’s not you it’s me,” he told me, solemnly, “but I think we want different things.”

He began cooking his own dinner, lying down on the sofa, watching movies, falling asleep clutching his Butterkist, no longer a slave to the regime.

The excitement, palpitations and air of expectation that accompanies every trip, being replaced with reluctance.

He was no longer enthralled by the prospect of the next new thing/ concept/dish/place.

Our food love affair was finally over. My partner in crime had lost his edge.

Where to take him for his birthday was therefore tricky, under the circumstances, but I wasn’t cooking en masse, and after much umming and aahing, picked the Magdalen Arms.

I haven’t been there for years, but while perusing Oxford’s possibilities, I remembered how good it is at relaxed, communal dining and big meaty man food, as well as being friendly and unpretentious, so booked a table right there and then.

Mr Greedy didn’t put up too much of a fight to be fair, more excited about trawling up Cowley Road’s cocktail bars with his mates than the end result.

But once we’d arrived, I could tell he approved – the big dining room style area, lovely staff, interesting menu, artisan cooking all in evidence, peasant food at its best ; big stews, dumplings, soups, home made pasta, slow cooked meat, roasts, it was an inspired choice if I do say so myself.

The evening was an unmitigated success, the food a triumph, the company appreciative, the Magdalen Arms perfectly bridging the gap between fun and occasion.

The stand out dishes were starters of twice baked Colston Bassett soufflé with an apple and walnut salad ( £7.80), the heady smoked mackerel pate with pickled cucumber and toast (£6.50), tortellini in brodo (small pork pasta parcels in broth), owner Tony Abarno’s Italian mother still making fresh pasta every day, and Dorset mussels mariniere, all cooked to perfection.

There was a hearty pot roast partridge, smoked sausage, savoy cabbage and medlar jelly (£16.80) which put hairs on our chests.

The boys ordered the Hereford rib of beef with chips and bearnaise to share (£50-£60) and when it arrived transformed into a snuffling pack, intent on their feast.

“This is absolutely incredible, “ they said occasionally, lifting their heads from their plates, lips smeared with beef fat, eyes blurred, intent on their kill.

So when Mr Greedy mentioned casually a few days later that he’d taken a day off work for a lads’ day out, adding ominously: “Don’t worry I’ve organised it all, I’ve even booked the restaurant,” I was deeply suspicious.

What on earth was going on?

And then I realised.

They were returning to the magical Magdalen Arms.

Which is exactly what they did, this time opting for the slow cooked lamb with red cabbage and dauphinois potatoes, (neck for two £37, shoulder for 4-5 £77) which was as inspired apparently.

Reluctant to leave even a scrap behind, they then hauled doggy bags around Oxford’s hostelries for the rest of the day and dined on the leftovers for a week.

The strike it seems is therefore over. The seal broken, his enthusiasm for Oxford’s restaurants restored, zeal intact, mojo back.

As for me, I’ve learnt never to underestimate what I’ve got, because often it’s right there, dangling under your nose, Magdalen Arms included.

The Magdalen Arms, 243 Iffley Rd, Oxford, OX41SJ. 01865 243159.

magdalenarms.co.uk. No parking

Opening hours: lunch: 12-2.30, Sat 12-3, sun 12-3.30. Dinner: 5.30-10pm, Sat 6pm-10pm, Sunday 6-9pm

Owners: Tony Albarno and his partner Florence Fowler

Try the : Magdalen Flea, a once a month flea market outside the pub complete with great bacon butties.