I have been a visitor to The Half Moon at Cuxham, near Watlington, over three decades.

During that time this quintessentially English thatched pub, parts of which date back to the early 17th century, has enjoyed a fine reputation for its food, culminating in the award of Best Gastropub in the South East in the Great British Pub Awards of 2009 for licensees Andy Hill and Eilidh Ferguson.

They handed over this April to successors Philippe Rethore and his partner Debbie Porteous. Their business philosophy is spelt out in the pub’s website: “Being French, Philippe loves what he can’t get in his homeland, and that’s an atmospheric English pub with great English beer. Being English, Debbie loves what she can’t get from her homeland, and that’s traditional French food and a large selection of regional French wine. So they decided to fuse the two together and create a taste of France in a very British environment.”

How well this works was apparent when Rosemarie and I enjoyed or first dinner under the new regime a couple of Saturday nights ago. On this balmy evening we might, I suppose, have considered eating on the attractive terrace; but as balminess tends to disappear as the sun sets, I am glad we didn’t. Our allocated table was in the bar — the very one I would have chosen had I been given the run of the whole pub.

The menu we were offered, though not long, was interestingly varied, making use (as is chef Guillaume’s general practice) of a number of ingredients from across the Channel. Dishes are given in French (with English translation) but, where possible, I will spare you that.

Besides the things that we ordered, there were such starters as tomato and basil tartlet and grilled goat’s cheese on hazelnut salad; main courses of chicken breast with chasseur sauce, mushroom and tarragon risotto, rib-eye steak and roasted duck breast with peaches; and a further four puddings, including chocolate fondant and apricot soufflé.

I kicked off with a slice of an excellent sole roulade, smooth and white, and successfully teamed with marinated artichokes. Rosemarie had the home-made pork pâté, which was rough-cut, moist and crumbly, and served with onion marmalade. There were plentiful supplies of home-baked bread.

My main course was “duo d’agneau” — a flavoursome, sticky chunk of confit shoulder of lamb and a tender grilled cutlet, served pink. Beside the pieces of roasted balsamic beetroot mentioned on the menu, there were green beans and mange tout. The “minted new potatoes” were boring boiled (or possibly steamed) ones, tasting of very little. More of the same were supplied to Rosemarie with her delicious pan-fried red mullet, which had been filleted and served with a crayfish sauce.

I drank a glass of gutsy French merlot, while Rosemarie continued with the muscadet — something of a forgotten wine these days. This is a pity, because even in its basic form as this one was — not the best ‘sur lie’, nor even the superior ‘de Sèvre et Maine’ — it makes a refreshing, appley tipple.

Speaking of apples, Rosemarie completed her meal with a well-constructed tarte Tatin, remarking how well the salty, almost savoury. taste of the pastry complemented the sweetness of the caramelised fruit.

I had three of the cheeses: a pungently flavoured, soft-centred Reblochon, Cheddar-like Lincolnshire Poacher and the well-known (and aptly named) Stinking Bishop.

In all, this dinner proved a thoroughly enjoyable occasion, in the success of which prompt and friendly service was also important. Anyone seeking to experience the same is strongly urged to book. But if you are calling ‘on spec’, please note that another French feature of the place is that it is closed on Mondays.