T he buzz was out for months across that well-moneyed stretch of rolling countryside where Oxfordshire and Gloucestershire comfortably commingle that Carole Bamford had bought Kingham’s Tollgate pub.

The village — a byword for opulence and style — already had its well-stocked pantry (and cafe) up the road in the shape of Lady B’s Daylesford on the family’s 1,700-acre estate, which is run on strict organic principles. Now, at the renamed Wild Rabbit, it was getting a pub, restaurant and 12-bedroom hotel from her as well.

From its opening two weeks ago today, the place has been packing in the punters — hardly an appropriate way of putting it, since an agreeable spaciousness is very much a feature of the design. This is especially the case in the airy, wide and well-windowed dining area, which is the principal addition to the 18th-century building.

The tables, with their decoration of sprigs of blackberries and other late summer fruits, are far enough apart to risk no intrusion from neighbours, welcome or otherwise. Way over in the corner, a team of chefs is about its business in the open-plan kitchen where a high-temperature Josper oven is part of the equipment. Hams, salamis and other cold meats are stacked beside a slicer machine on a servery in front.

At the centre of the room, bearing cheeses, chutneys and the like, is an ancient table that might have seen service (probably did) in the servants’ hall of some grand country house. A venerable dresser occupying one wall suggests a similar pedigree.

Our appointment with all this elegance was over Sunday lunch on the fourth day of business. Driving over, with some time to spare, we took the scenic route, calling for drinks (mineral water in my case) at Chadlington’s Tite Inn and the Chequers at Churchill, both filled with happy customers. We might have called, too, at the Kingham Plough where for the past six years chef Emily Watkins, a protégée of Heston Blumenthal, has attracted a devoted following. Some speak now of coming rivalries and divided loyalties. I suspect the village can easily accommodate two places of excellence.

At the Wild Rabbit’s bar, the driver had more mineral water while Rosemarie sampled one of the pub’s many excellent gins, Hayman’s, with Fever-Tree tonic. From so much liquid I was to reap an unexpected benefit later. The necessary visits to the loo — the one for blokes identified by the image of a dog with leg cocked — supplied opportunity to play with James Dyson’s fancy sink fittings combining tap with magically triggered blade drier. Each time I emerged smelling like a pot pourri after liberal application of Bamford’s geranium, lavender and peppermint hand cream.

If one flavouring ingredient isn’t enough for this, it certainly isn’t for one of the two breads offered in the restaurant. Told it was ‘seven seed’ we felt challenged to identify these and were pleased to come up with most of them: whole-grain, poppy, sesame, mustard, cumin, sunflower and pumpkin. There was a tie-threatening pot of olive oil and balsamic vinegar and (safer by far) a pat of butter, which in an adroit touch was seasoned across half its area with salt and pepper.

From a tempting sextet of starters (including tartare of mackerel, ox tongue with salad and quail’s egg, and peach, burrata cheese and cured ham) I chose potted rabbit with tarragon grain mustard, a salad of pickled vegetables (carrot, radishes, beetroot and fennel) and thinly sliced toast (the seven seed bread). Actually, this rabbit isn’t wild but supplied by a local breeder, which is perhaps advisable with myxomatosis about. I loved it — and it’s healthily low-fat too.

Rosemarie had artichoke soup, with a brioche and (lavish touch) whipped truffle butter. We were humming and hawing over whether Jerusalem or globe artichchokes were used, the latter seeming more likely owing to the slightly bitter taste. It was indeed globe today, confirmed the kitchen, though it had been Jerusalem the day before.

Moving on to main courses, I had considered the poached halibut and cockles, before settling on organic lamb rack to tie in wine-wise (we had an excellent bottle of Rioja, Urbina, 2006) with Rosemarie on roast beef. Cooked to a perfect pinkness, first in the Josper then in a frying pan, the two juicy chops from a Daylesford-bred lamb, came with a quartet of sautéed sweetbreads and a section of well-cooked lamb’s tongue slightly off-puttingly (for some) recognisable as such. Braised lettuce and a few girolles were already on the plate. I also ordered mashed potato, which came both plain and flavoured with tarragon, and ‘seasonal vegetables’. These turned out to be roasted beetroot and turnips, rather than the green things (runner beans, chard and courgettes) I love at this time of the year. Rosemarie’s generous slices of roast beef (from the Bamford’s Staffordshire estate) were perfect — dark red but not oozing blood – as were the roast potatoes and individual Yorkshire puddings. To finish, she enjoyed chocolate mousse with cherry ice cream, and then helped me with the cheeses — Daylesford cheddar, Bledington Blue, creamy dolcellate and a wonderfully pungent St Eadburgha’s from Gorse Hill Abbey, near Evesham.

Our decision to have coffee by the fire in the bar led to some anxiety on the table nearest to us. “Had we been driven away by the children?” a concerned young woman asked. “Not at all,” replied Rosemarie, beginning a conversation that led to the discovery that her interlocutor was Sir Anthony and Lady Bamford’s film-maker daughter Alice, over from her home in California for a friend’s wedding. She introduced us to her father, who was also present (Carole was in Paris).

“It has nothing to do with me,” he stressed, referring to the business. It became clear, though, that he shared my admiration not only for his wife’s taste in food but also for her choice of decorations and fittings — including those natty hand-driers!

The Wild Rabbit

Church Street, Kingham

Opening times: 10am-11pm, restaurant closed Sunday and Monday evenings

Parking: Car park or village streets

Key personnel: Owner Carole Bamford, launch manager Graham Williams, general manager Rob Barnsley and head chef Adam Caisley

Make sure you try the... Bar snacks of crisp cod cheeks with cauliflower may (£8.50), starters of tartare of mackerel (£8.50) and potted rabbi (£7.50), main courses of organic lamb rack and sweetbreads (£25.50) and beetroot orzo, charred leeks and toasted hazelnuts (£13.50) and puddings of chocolate mousse with cherry ice cream (£7) and tarte Tatin for two (£14). Three cheeses £8, five for £12.

In ten words: Impeccably sourced food served with panache amid agreeable rustic comforts.