Are you ready to order? This week: The Mason's Arms in Devon
(Filed: 30/07/2005)

Jan Moir finds timeless English food at The Mason's Arms in Devon

The door to Gossip Cottage creaks open. Stepping inside, a creature that looks like a mouse with eight legs crawls over my foot. "It's the thatch," says the landlady, above the screams. "Spiders love thatched roofs." That still doesn't explain the giant slug in the bathroom. Perhaps it's a pet? Help.

"Are you down here for a wedding?" asks our landlady. No. "Are you down here to walk the Two Moors Way?" No.

"Well, that's exhausted my possibilities," she says, slightly miffed.

After this, I crack my head on a low beam and have to lie down, enervated also by the lack of shopping opportunities in the village. There isn't even a Spar to wander around in. Outside, rumbling clouds roll across Exmoor and the rain beats down without mercy. Inside, spiders swing from the ceiling on gossamer trapezes. Sometimes, you know, you have got to wonder about this countryside lark. What is the point of it all? "The point of life," says S, pulling on his hat, "is lunch."

The Mason's Arms is a splendid 13th-century cob and thatch inn, just along the road from Gossip Cottage in the tiny village of Knowstone in north Devon. Even on the murkiest of days, the eggy yellow exterior glows in a welcoming way and the white sunshade fluttering in the chill wind suggests hospitality and civilisation, even a crazy kind of bravura.

In the bar, there is a huge fireplace, complete with bread oven, and a few wooden tables and benches. As if supplied by Central Casting, a local codger puffs on his reeking pipe and bellows on about two-prong pitchforks, while behind me a woman tells her companion: "Well, he couldn't do anything because he was up to his armpit in cow at the time."

There is delicious Tawny beer on tap and two menus: one featuring four daily specials; the other an à la carte with a selection of 15 dishes, including pan-fried foie gras, pork belly with braised red cabbage, sea bass with sweet peppers, and fresh Devon crab bound with crème fraîche. The specials include a plate of Somerset smoked salmon; scallops with fennel and orange salad; and a lemon marscapone mousse. For some people, though, nothing is ever enough.

"Haven't you got any crisps?" asks a peeved customer.

"I'm sorry," says the nice woman behind the bar, "but we don't do bar snacks. This is a restaurant, you see."

It certainly is. After 12 years as the head chef at Michel Roux's Waterside Inn and then a short stint at the beleaguered Cliveden, Mark Dodson and his wife, Sarah, took the entrepreneurial plunge and bought this pub. Two days after moving in, Dodson was serving meals. He is a pro. He just rolled up his sleeves and got on with it. Sod the redecorating or the sourcing of alluring crockery from France - let's get the business rolling. Sarah has never worked in catering before, but she's getting on with it, too.

Crisps. Crisps. It is a miracle that Sarah Dodson doesn't bang her head on the Tawny tap when someone asks for crisps.

The dining-room at the back looks on to a particularly lush, rolling fold of Devon and there is a pretty terrace where meals are served on fine days. The tables are scrubbed oak, the service is friendly and, despite the chef's three-star Michelin training, the atmosphere is relaxed. Not surprisingly, the food is of an incredibly high standard, with dishes that have clarity and self-confidence, lifting them beyond everyday pub grub.

For example, a simple ham hock terrine is made with real care and served with a graceful grain-mustard dressing. Fillet of Devon beef - delicious - shows how excellent produce can be brought to another level by skilled practices.

The cooked beef is tender and lightly caramelised, with a nice grain and a texture that remains firm. It has been simply garnished with lovely onion marmalade and light meat juices, with some sautéed spinach nestling underneath the meat - timeless English food, done with restraint and style.

The duck foie gras is perhaps a little more indulgent - an extremely generous lobe that has been perfectly seared, with the whisper of crispness around the edges and a melting, velvety interior.

The soft and spicy cinnamon pears and plump sultanas alongside provide the right note of sweetness and, if this dish alone doesn't get them stampeding across the moors, then the price surely will: £9.50.

The wine list is fair, too. Among the pricier bottles is a nicely perfumed Margaux - a Château Deyrem-Valentin 1999 Cru Bourgeois - for £46.

Elsewhere, there is a starter of rich mushroom risotto speared with home-made vegetable crisps and, while you don't need me to tell you that ordering chicken is perhaps not a good idea in many places, have no fear here, where the fowl is richly flavoured in a proper, old-fashioned way and lightly anointed with a delicate dressing of cream and wild mushrooms, alongside some nicely turned potato cocottes. The only dud note is a plate of pan-fried duck, which is curiously flavourless, despite the immaculate shallot and honey sauce.

As you might expect from someone who trained with Albert Roux, the puddings are fabulous. I particularly adore the rhubarb and sweet wine trifle, topped with a pool of cool, vanilla-flecked custard. A chocolate parfait is served with a crisp wafer of caramelised pistachio nuts and attention to detail is everywhere.

After dinner that evening, I am just admiring the white chocolate fudge studded with cherries when the châtelaine of Gossip Cottage appears.

"Are you down here for a christening?" she asks. No. "What time do you want breakfast tomorrow?" I don't. "Did you enjoy your dinner?" Incredibly so.

The countryside is indeed another country, but as long as there are restaurants like the Mason's Arms somewhere in it, I don't mind it too much.

http://www.telegraph.co.uk/