Telephone: 01564 795666
Address: 64 High Street, Henley-in-Arden, Warwickshire
Rating: 15.5/20

Henley-in-Arden is not cheap. Old is not cheap. Daub and wattle, black beam and white plaster and small windows is not cheap. Pretty as a picture, neat and tidy, British Tourist Authority-approved, is not cheap. Lunch at Edmunds, on the other hand, was cheap: £5 per course - £5 for tian of Cornish crab and prawns served with harissa dressing; £5 for roast breast of Gressingham duck with damson and onion confit and port and thyme gravy; £5 for deep-fried banana with peanut butter ice cream and almond biscuits. That's £15 all in. I'd almost have paid £15 for the pudding alone - and I don't even like peanut butter.

You'll find Henley-in-Arden, if you don't already know it, in that pleasant, bosky, well-cultivated stretch of country south of Birmingham, north of Stratford, and between the pincers formed by the M40 and M5. It's a strategic spot, with a class-A catchment area. I suppose that's why property prices challenge those of Henley-on-Thames. In this context, in any context, Edmunds offers pretty cheering value for money.

The restaurant is one of those timber-and-plaster numbers, appealing, tasteful and cheerful, with a cosy jumble of rooms. The white has been turned a warm, Mediterranean terracotta, the floors are tiled and there are no tablecloths on the tables. In spite of the odd kitsch detail, this makes it all unfancy, unpretentious, hospitable and relaxing. To put it another way, I felt welcome, relaxed and generally tickety-boo, in spite of eating alone.

I don't mind being a solitary saddo from time to time. The high drama on other tables always provides interest and distraction, but, truthfully, what is a meal without someone with whom to jabber away? Still, being alone meant that I studied the food with more than usual care, and the food repaid the attention. I'm not going to say that the cooking of Andy Waters, who worked at Simpson's in Kenilworth for several years, is as individual as that of, say, Paul Kitching, Michael Macdonald or our own Heston Blumenthal. It isn't - nor, I am sure, would Waters claim it to be. Its character, and quality, lies in its limitations. It aspires to pleasure, not wonder, and it delivers that with aplomb. It concentrates on letting high-class raw materials speak their piece without fancy business getting in the way.

The tian of crab - a tower of white meat fleshed out with plump, pink prawns - was simplicity itself, with all the juicy virtues of very fresh crab and prawns, pointed up by the mildly piquant harissa dressing. The duck breast was a full-bosomed affair, with the fat cooked out of it and the flesh carrying just the faintest blush of pink. The onion and damson confit sat beautifully with the richness of the meat, the port and thyme sauce picking up the flavour continuum.

But while these dishes were exemplary, it was the deep-fried banana and the peanut butter ice cream that sent my sense of hedonistic indulgence into top gear. The banana had been cooked in its skin, which had been slashed open along part of its length, which made it look really sexy. The skin had protected the flesh, except for the exposed section, so it was warm and soft without being mushy. Even I will admit that banana and peanut is one of those pairings like bacon and tomatoes, Torvill and Dean, and Ant and Dec. Making the peanut into an ice cream was an inspired move because, aside from the marriage of flavours, I got a contrast in temperatures and a creamy slather to coat the warm fruit.

This particular dish seemed pretty popular with my fellow lunchers, too, a nice, polite, well-behaved, quietly spoken lot. Edmunds wasn't exactly full to bursting that Thursday, but it was doing very nicely, a tribute to the intelligently priced menu. There have been quite a few restaurants that I have visited recently that would like to be doing the same level of business. Even with a kir, half a bottle of classic claret at £14.50 off a short but well-formed list, and a cup of coffee, I couldn't get the bill above £34.25. OK, so that's more than a Big Mac, but if you're on your own, there's no one to tell you to mind your extravagance.

· Open Lunch, Tues-Fri, 12 noon-2pm; dinner, Tues-Sat, 7-9.45pm. Menus: Lunch, £5 per course; dinner, £17.50 for two courses, £19.50 for three. Wheelchair access.