The worthy chef proprietor of this admirable inn is Boyd McIntosh, formerly head chef at nearby Howard's House, and my heart warmed to him as I read Boyd's Philosophy on Food, summarised as "over complication of dishes is the downfall of many a good chef".

The George at Codford is one of those country inns with rooms where the moment you stick your head round the door you know you are on to a winner. There is a gentle air of mild and comfortable scruff that implies the main burden of effort is exerted towards the food and drink, nor would that be wrong.

Starters of cream of spiced parsnip and sweet potato soup with garlic croutons gives a new dimension to a dish often regarded as only de rigueur on days when brass monkeys are searching for welding sets. The twice baked soufflé of blue cheese, fresh asparagus, with red pepper fondant, priced at under a fiver, is the sort of thing which, served up in a smart London restaurant would have the critics agog with delight.

The main event yields such dishes as fillet of red mullet, cherry tomato and chorizo salad, with a delicate lime and coriander vinaigrette, or caramelized breast of Gressingham duck, sautéed wild mushrooms, and Earl Grey jus. Their English fillet steaks arrive at table seared with black pepper, with nothing left to the imagination on the trimmings.

Puddings come within an ace of defying the Boyd McIntosh dictum, in that they are what might be termed as highly structured, but as Betjeman once said of a flamboyant Victorian church in Norfolk, "naughty - very naughty - but in the right spirit".

A decent wine list, Timothy Taylor at the taps, all's right with the world.