The Greyhound is not a Russian doll or a tardis, but like them it offers endless surprises.
It is unassuming from the outside, another pretty whitewashed pub in the calm of one of those genteel market towns that form the skeleton of the Home Counties. But inside, though it is cosseting in an old world, wood-beamed way, what appears to be a pub dissolves into a restaurant that Michelin surely must have missed on their jollies this way.
Married owners Margriet Vandezande-Crump and Daniel Crump (one this country’s very few Master of Culinary Arts) offer an extraordinary and too often elusive thing: fine dining that is thoroughly enjoyable, and free from faff, fuss and pretension.
Not cheap, but not fretfully expensive either. It is half an hour from London; there might be no better evening out of town than this. It might even form the centrepiece of a perfect weekend.
33 Windsor End, Beaconsfield, HP9 2JN; greyhoundbeaconsfield.co.uk
