I wrote at the end of January about The Lamb at Satwell, and within days it had closed, along with three other eating establishments owned by Antony Worrall Thompson, whose business had been placed in administration. A week later, I visited The Plough, in Witney, in order to review it on this page. Two days before the article was to appear, the pub was badly damaged by fire and forced to close. Could I be carrying a jinx fatal to the catering industry?

In fact, in the case of the Plough, it might be thought that owners Guy Ripley and Rob O’Connell bear a jinx enough of their own. In July of 2007, very soon after Guy’s takeover of this once down-at-heel High Street pub, it was overwhelmed during the summer floods by water from the Windrush which flows (very prettily most of the time) at the bottom of its garden. More than eight months passed before it was in business again. It was reopened by the town’s MP, David Cameron. Shortly before, the Tory leader had performed the same service at The Swan in Ascott-under-Wychwood, the subject of my review last week.

The fire, caused by a faulty tumble dryer, was on the first-floor of the building. This still awaits restoration, but the pub was open again within a few weeks, after redecoration and repairs to the ceiling. Time, then, for me to make another lunchtime visit and, in describing it, finally to report on my earlier one which (since it involved more substantial fare) I shall proceed to do first.

Snow (remember that?) blanketed Witney as I headed for the town for my biannual check-up at the dentist. The bus made such good time despite the weather that there was time for a spot of lunch. The Plough, which a colleague had warmly praised a few days earlier, was empty when we arrived at noon and packed to busting by the time I left for the surgery (leaving Rosemarie to complete a delicious sticky toffee pudding all by herself). Witney had stayed at home en masse that day – and most people seemed to want lunch at The Plough. This was bad news for the harassed Guy, since Rob had taken the day off (though he did come in later to help deal with the influx).

The rest of the kitchen team coped admirably with our starters, a bowl of beetroot and carrot soup (interesting mix, and with a citrussy hint) in Rosemarie’s case, and pan-cooked pigeon breast in mine. The meat was a deep purply red, as I hoped it would be, and not oozing livid blood as is often the case when this dish is offered. It had an ideal accompaniment in warm puy lentils in a tasty stock with smoked bacon lardons.

My main course was less satisfactory, however. I chose fresh linguine with crab, parsley, chilli and lemon. I could have forgiven the fact that the crab was in rather short supply but not the congealed, glued-together nature of the pasta. I suspect it had been hanging around, possibly while Rosemarie’s dish, which took rather longer cooking, was completed.

This consisted of lamb served in three ways – a juicy pinkish chop, a tender piece of well-cooked breast and a dollop of shepherd’s pie. It came with a dish of shredded Savoy cabbage, carrot batons and baby turnips. I ordered a side salad, which arrived innocent of dressing (though I was able to ask for some).

Other choices (to give you some idea of what’s available here) included starters of Jerusalem artichoke and bacon salad, gingered sweet potato spring roll and wild rabbit brawn, and main courses of Teriyaki sea bass fillets, wild mushroom risotto, belly of pork with crackling, and goat’s cheese, pine nuts and oven-roasted charlotte with wilted greens and polenta.

My second lunchtime visit to The Plough last Thursday again coincided with a dental appointment, this time an emergency one. An unpitted olive in a side salad served at dinner the previous night shattered one of the teeth I unwisely clamped around it. The repair was only a ten-minute operation, however, and (the wonders of modern dentistry!) was accomplished with a filling agent that hardened instantly. “Let’s go to The Plough again,” I said to Rosemarie, who had come along with me for a ride in the sunshine.

So sunny was it, in fact, that we initially wondered about sitting out in the courtyard, or possibly even on the decking area overlooking the river. In the end, though, a warning blast of wind reminded us that this was still mid-March. Back inside, we found barmaid Liz busy lighting fires in the two seating areas. We settled next to one, at a table looking out on the sunny street.

My food choice today was taken from the pub’s ‘pick ‘n’ mix’ menu, which is served from 11am to 10pm Monday to Saturday and on Sundays between noon and 6pm.

This features an appealing assortment of nibbles, salads, dips and hot dishes. Rather daringly in the circumstances I began with Manzinello marinated olives – big and small, green and black, pitted and not – in olive oil and herbs. Then came mini-fishcakes (with poached salmon, smoked salmon and whiting) and excellent home-made tartare sauce with capers and chopped gherkins. Third choice was succulent lamb meatballs, with a surprising kick of chilli, in a tomato and wine sauce deliciously flavoured with coriander and cumin.

Rosemarie had one of the bar menu choices, first-class faggots in a rich gravy, with mashed potatoes and peas. Though the portion was large, not a bit of it was left.

Afterwards I was pleased to compliment Rob on the meal, learning as I did so of his abrupt decision to switch to a life in catering (assisted by a year of study with Prue Leith) after 13 years in banking in his native South London. But that’s a tale for another time . . .