Formerly known as the Mason's Arms, Jonathan's at the Angel is a handsome 16th century coaching inn turned nosher, styled as 'a bresserie with rooms' . It's got the lot: Cotswold stone, window boxes, and all that stuff and is situated in the main street in Burford, a beautiful old town ruined by tourists and their crap. Being one of these people, I popped in for lunch during a few days by the Thames with the Missus and Junior, and, lo, they served a delicious bottle of Adnams. They waved the lunch menu at us and I went for some seafood cassolet-type thing, and the lady wife had a 'tapas'. Junior had 'chicken strips'. Mine was very good indeed, with pieces of orange, lots of delicious fish and so on. Also it arrived hot, adding ten points to the score at a stroke, although they were a bit stingey with the spuds. (I had asked for boiled, was told we have 'crushed', I asked is that the same as mashed?, she said 'almost'. When they came they were 'boiled'). Junior's chicken was so sweet, he abandoned it, and the Missus was hugely disappointed by her tapas: I did warn her against it in this sort of place! Also service - initially good, from a girl who cared and knew her stuff - went downhill to the point where some oikish fellow tried to chat to us about the purpose of wasps while clearing the plates.

When I came to pay, I found the chef in his grubby apron hanging over the internet at the front bar, quizzing colleagues about websites: all wrong! The prices were expensiveish and drinks were especially gorblimey, but with a bit more attention to staff training/customer relations, I would recommend this place. Certainly worth popping in for a beer in the cosy armchairs if your wallet is overflowing. Approved (just) PERRY STALSIS, 2004