Theatre of dreams

That and the fact that I found myself bored to tears by the annual barrage of New Year, New You' advice, mostly about the benefits of carrot juice. So I booked a table at Le Manoir, ate all ten courses of the Menu Découverte' and then made some room for cheese.

Let me just say that Le Manoir is outrageously expensive - your bill will equal the GNP of a small country, or a large one if you have wine. But isn't it nice once in a while to get dressed up and make an occasion of it?

Because it is not just about the food. It is about the theatre of the place. Walking up that beautifully lit path to the main house, being seated in the luxurious lounge and served G&Ts while you peruse the menus and the other clientele, being served the delectable amuses gueule' - canapés to you and me - on a little plate and being waited on hand and foot by everyone from the bread waiter to the sommelier.

It is about being led personally into the dining room and seated. It is about the immaculate service, every ingredient being described meticulously before you eat each course. It is about the perfection of the bread and the weight of the cheese trolley.

We decided on the £116 Menu Découverte.

Mr Greedy was silent in his admiration of the plancha seared scallop, cauliflower puree and curry oil, the confit of landais foie gras with rhubarb compôte and toasted sour dough bread, the pan-fried Cornish sea bass, langoustine, smoked mashed potatoes and star anise sauce and the roasted Gressingham duck breast, braised chicory, confit of yuzu fruit, jasmine tea and raisin sauce.

"Exceptional," he managed to stutter between courses.

As for my ten vegetarian dishes, there were moments of brilliance and three dishes that stood out - roasted sweet Romano red pepper filled with taboulé artichoke confit and spiced pepper jus; the Bishop's cheese soufflé with apple and celery salad and walnut dressing; and the fresh tagliatelle pasta, market vegetables with truffles and rosemary cream, which were perfection.

We both agreed that the desserts were lacking in variety and inspiration, although the chestnut streusel surprise - part chestnut créme, part chocolate and part jelly - was surprisingly palatable, a surprise indeed.

The general standard at Le Manoir is over and above anything else you can find in Oxfordshire, and arguably the UK.

What made the whole experience slightly less enjoyable was the clientele. The table next to us were business types who insisted on glorifying their obvious Northern roots - and got quite drunk. They were loud and boring and no-one in the dining room could avoid hearing what they were saying. And it wasn't as amusing as that famous Monty Python sketch, I can tell you.

We eventually asked to be moved, not because we are prudes, but because it was a special occasion and we didn't see why they should spoil the evening for us - and no doubt everyone else in the room.

Our friends from the North lasted two sittings before being enticed away from the dining room, no doubt with expectations of more wine - and the entire room sighed with relief, but by then the damage had been done.

I do believe the staff tried to handle the situation delicately, but it was difficult for them as the loud party were also paying customers.

But they succeeded in ruining the atmosphere and took the edge off the food, simply because you couldn't concentrate hard enough to appreciate it fully.

So, £300 down (after adding four glasses of wine to our bill), we paid up and ate our delicious petit fours, which outshone the dessert, especially the Earl Grey-infused chocolates, before braving the frosty night - breaking a handle off in our efforts to prize open the frozen car door.

Le Manoir remains an incredibly special place, always moving, keeping ahead of the game and making a big dent in your bank balance. But, once in a while, it is definitely worth it!

Le Manoir aux Quat' Saisons, Great Milton, 01844 278881, www.manoir.com