This chameleon eating house in the picturesque Market Square at Brewood, less than ten minutes from Junction 12 on M6 and a neighbourhood café during the day, lowers the lights at 7 pm to become a friendly and informal restaurant serving cuisine of considerable accomplishment and style.

Our visit there on a quiet Thursday evening coincided with a cause for celebration on the part of my companion. We were met by Lynn Sims, co-owner of The Mess with her brother, Nathan White. By the way, zealousness by the local authority regarding signs, presumably in an attempt to preserve the scenic integrity of the Square means that you will have to be pretty observant on arrival. The reward is great views over the centre of this quiet community, including the Gothic style Speedwell Castle.

A blackboard announced a few additions to the autumn menu, so, after a false chase for the mackerel with Stilton crust (weekends only it seemed), we chose the Farmhouse terrine with apple, red onion chutney and French toast, whilst I headed towards the well recommended roasted parsnip soup, served with vegetable crisps that lolled indolently across the large plain white soup dish.

The enthusiastic speed with which the terrine vanished indicated satisfaction rather than hunger from my friend, who is not a leading London restaurateur for nothing. As for the soup all I can say is that, if anything, Lynn's recommendations were an understatement. Creamy, with an intensity of taste and body that could not have been improved on, it was the work of a master, and I loved it.

New Zealand white wine has covered much ground in recent years, so when a quick survey of the relatively brief but gutsy wine list revealed last year's Montana Sauvignon Blanc, it was no contest, though it could have done with a more thorough chilling.

Moving on involved us both discovering a preference for the Moroccan beef tagine, slow roasted for half a day, but this was not my turn to back off gracefully, and was I happy about that? All I can say in reply is that I have seldom tasted a better example of the breed. Served with a timbale of fragrant rice it had exactly the right consistency, even the colour was inviting, and more than a breath of cinnamon ran through it, gently pursued by a hint of star anise.

The collar of bacon too found a warm reception opposite me, good streaky stuff with a convincing look about it, well backed by a wholegrain mustard sauce. The pease pudding was a good colour, nicely seasoned and played a good rôle in bringing this flavoursome dish together.

With still only two tables ccupied besides ourselves we could not believe that such quality food should be so neglected. This is an area where it is necessary to really think hard for that special location, and with good food as most people's primary aim, why are they not packed to the rafters?

A move to avoid puddings in the interests of the Prevention of Rotundity Act lacked conviction, so we compromised on one dish and two spoons. In fact the richness and consistency of the parfait with sticky toffee sauce was so brilliant that we were very adequately served by our one helping, though it was noticeable that the pace quickened as the confection diminished.

The Mess should be under siege. Maybe it just needs to be 'discovered'. Perhaps the décor is not as brilliant as the pudding, but what matters most?