Where is a good place to eat? Christopher Gray has a few answers

There has lately been a pleasing expansion in the number of places whose names I can rattle off when asked — as every restaurant reviewer is, in the expectation of an authoritative reply — “Where is a good place to eat?” In as many weeks, I have enjoyed three first-class meals in establishments which did not exist, in their present form at least, this time last year.

They are Restaurant 56 at Faringdon’s Sudbury House Hotel, the subject of my last review in Weekend, the Oxford Kitchen in Summertown and The Manor at Weston-on-the-Green.

The excellencies of the third of these became known to me as long ago as last August when I attended a large lunch party in the Baron’s Hall there — a glorious oak-panelled room complete with minstrels’ gallery. This was to launch the Blenheim Palace Literary Festival and was hosted by its director Sally Dunsmore.

That this challenging exercise in large-scale catering was taking place within days of the arrival of chef Larry Jayasekara was not known to me at the time. His baptism of fire was revealed during conversation I had with him as he cooked a splendid lunch for us at the hotel late last month.

The foregoing sentence might prompt readers to wonder at the location of this meal. It was in fact in the Manor’s kitchen, where a Chef’s Table (see below) has been installed for those who like to watch their food being prepared.

Now this might all seem a little passé for smart metropolitan types like The Times’s restaurant critic Giles Coren. Indeed he said as much (“YAWN!”) in his bilious review of the aforementioned Oxford Kitchen, which also offers this dining experience (it’s called the Kitchen Table here).

But for us hicks from the sticks the experience can be entertaining and instructive, though not perhaps something you would wish for on every restaurant visit. I remember my first such dinner, eaten as long ago as 2001 in New Orleans’s top-rated restaurant, the Commander’s Palace. This fully exemplified the saying: “If you can’t stand the heat, keep out of the kitchen.”

The clattering of pans, the hissing of steam and the shouting of orders that I witnessed there created a markedly different ambiance from that found in the Manor’s’s quiet, ultra-tidy kitchen. Here lunch was cooked and presented in an atmosphere of dignified calm. No kitchen devil, Larry, then, though his career, in fact, began with one such in the shape of Gordon Ramsay (at the Savoy Hotel), before moving into calmer spheres with the no less famous Michel Roux Snr (the Waterside Inn), Raymond Blanc (Le Manoir) and Marcus Wareing (the Berkeley Hotel).

The unusual nature of our eating arrangements at the Manor were unknown to Rosemarie and me when we agreed to join friends Bob and Frances Campbell for lunch there. Having arrived a little late, we were led to the kitchen by general manager Brian Garside (who had first equipped us with a glass of champagne). There we found, to our pleasure, not just the Campbells but also the hotel’s owner Paul Oberschneider, who was lunching with us.

Since this is not a restaurant review, I shall not trot out details of our meal, except to say it was all enjoyed hugely, each dish made more appetising by watching its construction. My crab starter and cod with chick-peas (both of which are pictured above) were superb.

It all seemed delightfully self-indulgent, since this was a Monday, a day not noted for Lucullan feasting (indeed, when restaurants used traditionally to close). We completed our outing to Weston-on-the-Green, which was achieved by bus, with a glass of wine at the Black Sheep pub, formerly the Ben Jonson, which Mr Oberschneider, its new owner, has transformed with the same good taste shown at the Manor.

A few days later came my first chance to eat at the Oxford Kitchen. Eschewing the Kitchen Table (YAWN!), the broadcaster Bill Heine and I were entertained in the main part of the restaurant by its affable public relations person Doug Jenner. My apologies to a friend seated just behind us who said later that we had seemed a little — er, animated.

This, I know, was a reflection of our enthusiasm for the delicious dishes cooked by executive chef John Footman and his team. Well, OK, I suppose the accompanying wine might also have contributed. John, another alumnus of Raymond’s Manoir ‘school’, is an inventive and assured practitioner of the kitchen arts. I can only regret that I showed none of his imagination as a customer. Studying the photographs Doug sent me of the lunch, I realise that once again I had gone for crab and cod. But what the hell. I like them.