Luckily word of mouth recommendation over the last 18 years of ownership by Bob and Cynthia Emery, with latterly their son Elliott, means this picturesque pub at Leadmill Bridge doesn't lack customers.

The food guides, however, seem to be slow in registering the excellence here. Head chefs slaving at hot stoves are like the rest of us and crave a little recognition.

"I think we are the forgotten place," says Robert Navarro, in charge for the last six years, "We are not on the trendy map," adds his boss Bob, wondering whether a retired butcher running a pub doesn't cut the mustard with restaurant critics.

Well, it cuts it with me. My starter, a 'Scotch egg' of black pudding rolled around a cube of foie gras, should have people queuing out the door.
It's the best black pudding I've ever eaten in all its peppery glory.

This is enhanced with finely minced chicken and cream, breadcrumbed, fried, then cut open to reveal the runny yellow-bronze goose liver. A lick of apple puree adds contrast.

"It was one of the other chefs who suggested the puree," says Robert, keen to give credit where it is due. It works but I wonder at the broccoli florets as decoration.

There have been changes at the Plough. The bar has been turned around 90 degrees and where once you snuck through it to the restaurant, now it's been opened up. It's now the same menu all the way through and the blackboards have gone.

Outside is a smart courtyard with tables for sunny days and a beer garden slopes down to a stream.

The menu mixes traditional pub grub with gastropub dishes, so if you want lasagne, fish and chips or beef and Guinness pie it's here. But there's also a gammon and blue cheese terrine or muffin with smoked salmon and a poached egg on the starters and gallantine of rabbit and pigeon or salmon with asparaqgus and buerre blanc on the mains. It also has a section headed 'Farinaceous Dishes,' that is pasta, a description which is undoubtedly accurate but I have never before seen on a menu.

The Plough's kitchen has serious intentions. Breads are lovely, with particularly crisp crusts, and you get little amusés, here crostinis topped with game terrine and green tomato chutney.

We'd hardly swallowed them when the starters arrived. My Scotch egg was £6.95, my wife's red pepper and red onion tart is £6. It's a generous portion, a disc of pastry with a luxurious topping. "Everything has just been cooked right down and caramelised beautifully," says my wife appreciatively. A sharpish piece of goats cheese on a crostini adds contrastThe low-ceilinged restaurant is full of old beams and we enjoy watching one of the waitresses, Melissa, take charge by her sheer personality.

She's back, she says, after a lay-off caused by a skiing accident.

Now Melissa is an absolute treasure but she misleads by saying there is no potato with my duck main. So we order some new potatoes because my wife definitely doesn't get them with her lemon sole.

In fact, this is my only grump about the Plough. Order side- plated vegetables and you can add another £4.50 or so to the bill, which make it a little pricy for a pub.

My duck (£15) is a spin on that old classic, with cherries. It is beautifully cooked and sliced, the skin still crisp (this crispness tends to get lost sometimes), served with a duck 'ham' fritter, cherries, roast baby pear nestling in a tiny croustade (think crisp mini Yorkshire pudding) and a rich fruity cherry sauce - I'm trying to avoid the chefspeak 'jus.'

This is cleverly done. The duck is tender and relaxed, still bloody as requested. The meat rests on a heap of mashed potato (take note Melissa). The duck ham is intriguing.

"It's a duck leg which has been brined, inspired by Heston Blumenthal's Spam fritter," says Robert afterwards, who takes care to tell me that my duck was cooked by trainne chef Adam Harper, who recently came second in a national competition.

The lemon sole (£15.95) comes with four large fillets, pleasant without being remarkable (flavour needs to be coaxed from this fish) , with a tangle of refreshing fennel, orange and tarragon salad.

We round off with a ginger tiramusu, notable for how the stem ginger flavour creeps up on you, and a creditable egg custard (the pastry needed to be crisper) and lovely honey roasted peach.

We paid £60.30 for food. Good wines are available by the glass. It's about time the guides took note.