No special celebration would be complete without a feast - which is why chef Joe McCorry and Martin Range, the proprietors of The Plough Inn, Finstock, recreated a 20th-century feast for the villagers last weekend. But it wasn't a feast of gargantuan proportions and the dishes weren't elaborately garnished. In fact, as feasts go, the food - though well prepared - was composed of very basic fare.

What Joe cooked was a meal of roast mutton, potatoes, cabbage and cheese, served with bread and copious amounts of beer, just as it would have been in the early 1900s on a Club Day.

The Plough is known for serving superb traditional fare, sourced locally, and Joe has cooked mutton from time to time as it is becoming quite popular now (in part, thanks to the Prince of Wales). But the meals that normally come out of his kitchen are far more lavish than those he served last Saturday. Dishes that rate as favourites with his regular customers include succulent portions of roast fillet of venison served with a red wine and juniper sauce on a bed of rösti potatoes and garnished with a julienne of leek and carrots.

There was no such garnish on the roast mutton, though he did some rather magic things with the cabbage. To have served this humble vegetable in the manner in which it would have been served in the 1900s - boiled to death - was taking authenticity just a step too far. So Joe used his considerable culinary skills and perked the cabbage up a little. Everything else, however, was as it would have been 100 years ago.

So what is a Club Day? As Christopher Keonig explained in his excellent article that appeared in The Oxford Times last month, the club in question was the Finstock Benefit Society, formed to provide mutual help and support to its members. Friendly Societies such as this flourished during the 1800s when times were hard.

The Club Day was the society's 'once a year day'. It was indeed one of the great days of the village year and a key element of rural life which was eagerly awaited by many. The Club Day was so important that many who had left the village would return annually to be re-acquainted with family and friends.

Naturally, such an important day called for music and a feast. The standard pattern of celebration seldom changed. Members would meet at the club house and at the arrival of a local band, would march to the Anglican church for a short service before marching round the village calling at the big houses on the way round. The brass band would be hired at the cost of £2 or £3, the minister would be paid about a pound for his services and the meal would cost the members about three shillings (15p) each.

Joe was able to show me a copy of the costings for a Club Day feast of 100 years ago, which made fascinating reading. The mutton for 100 guests cost £5 13s 10d and the 121 loaves, and flour used in cooking the dinners cost 8/5d. A loaf of bread today costs more than a pound, but if you compare the average wages the agriculture workers would have received then with the wage they receive now, these figures make more sense. Forty-five eggs were costed at 3s, 96 cabbage cost 8s, 12lb of cheese was listed at 8/6d and 54 gallons of beer cost £3 14s.

When Joe and I examined this list our interest lay more in the quantities that were ordered for 100 participants, than the prices. We concluded that either more than 100 attended the feast, or that appetites in those days were keener. Were they so fond of cabbage they were able to eat almost one each? Joe decided that the cook may have followed Mrs Beaton's advice and boiled it for so long, that cabbage leaves reduced to almost nothing.

The 54 gallons of beer consumed sounds a massive amount, but when we realised it would provide all those attending with half a gallon each - which is four pints - we concluded they were not exactly binge drinking, though the events were often marred by "unseemly behaviour".

Naturally, any price comparisons gave way to a concerned discussion about the sudden rise of world food prices and the high price of fuel today, which are beginning to make their mark on menu pricing throughout the country.

Joe and Martin admit it's becoming difficult to maintain menu prices at their current level. They say that the secret to maintaining their current price structure is by paying attention to detail and their careful consumption of fuel. Joe no longer turns the fat fryers on at the beginning of service, preferring to turn them on when needed, for although this will add a few more minutes to the delivery of the food, it saves a huge amount on fuel costs. They have also replaced every light bulb in the pub with energy-efficient bulbs, with the exception of the fitting over the bar for which no low-energy bulb has yet been designed.

They also make much of their glorious open fire, as local wood at £60 a load is far cheaper than electricity.

As for rising food costs, they are trying to absorb them by careful ordering and buying local produce when possible. Kitchen waste is kept to the minimum as they never order more than they need.

"It's not easy for any of us," admitted Matthew, who hated having to put 10p on to a pint of beer after the last budget. He admitted they had backed an Internet campaign to get the Chancellor, Alistair Darling, banned from every pub in the country. Campaigners felt that Mr Darling failed to recognise that well-run community pubs are the solution to Britain's binge-drinking problems.

The Plough is certainly a well-run community pub and it is definitely there for the Finstock community as Saturday's feast proved. And, yes, beer was served during the re-enactment of Club Day, but there was no 'unseemly behaviour'.