THE credentials of these three are impressive. Jane has worked with Barbara Windsor at her former restaurant, co-run a jazz restaurant and spent two years in PR at Cliveden.

Jenny has served Arab princes, film stars and royalty at Le Gavroche, the leisurely rich on the QE2, pop stars and footballers at Sugar Reef.

Andrew has cooked at L'Escargot, at Anton Mosimann's, at two-Michelin-star restaurants, his last post being head chef serving 500 covers a night at Sugar Reef in central London.

Now these three have pooled their talent. And where can you find the result? In a modest little pub tucked away off the beaten track near Farnham Common: The Emperor of India.

The first surprise is mine host, Jane Ilott, a pretty 25-year-old who you'd think might be more at home on the catwalk than pulling pints. She's in charge surely the youngest landlady for miles around.

She says: "My family bought the Emperor of India and we opened on January 11 after a complete refurbishment. I hold the license with my grandad. He tells me I'm the fifth generation to own a pub."

Jane and her team are not daunted by the prospect of building a reputation for good food from scratch in an out-of-the-way spot. She says: "We have a brilliant team and want to create a gastro pub. You only find these good pubs by word of mouth.

"The food is modern English with a traditional edge. There's a fantastic bar menu, and a restaurant menu. I want to be able to offer something for everyone, from cod and chips to foie gras, and each will be the best.

"We want to be known for the quality of the food, value for money, and fantastic service and ambience."

Nothing new here then. All new pub-restaurant owners say the same. The proof's in the eating.

So in we went to the very attractive restaurant area at the back of the bar and met the second member of the team, Jenny Reid. Her experience as waitiress in top quality restaurants soon becomes apparent. There's something indefinable that develops, combining courtesy, charm, deft efficiency and panache.

Then it's her husband Andrew's turn to prove his worth with a shortish, classy menu. There are relatively plain items if you wish, and plenty of scope to trumpet his skills.

We chose pea and ham soup (£4.50) served in the trendy cappuccino style rich and creamy, with a subtle pea flavour and frothy top. For my husband, rich and creamy goat's cheese atop beautifully roasted Mediterranean vegetables, drizzled with olive oil and balsamic vinegar.

Those two words, rich and creamy, are going to crop up again. Here they come. R & C risotto enlivened with crab and coriander made a sublime base for a judiciously roasted fillet of seabass, lying in a pool of chive sauce (£15.95). It really was gorgeous.

For him, calves liver with mash and red wine sauce (£11.50), very tender, cooked just past pink, and with deeply savoury wine sauce.

As I've remarked before, you can tell the restaurants that are trying to position themselves at the top, because you get exquisite meat and zilch veg. None of the main courses come with vegetables, nor is there a side dish on the menu, which I find a shame. (There are of course vegetarian options.) A few carrots or courgettes would complement all that R & C just fine. That's just a personal gripe.

We'd heard all the desserts (£4.50) are home made, so I tried lemon tart, one of my favourites. This one, very R & C of course, was excellent, especially as it came with a crispy basket containing a scoop of the most luscious raspberry sorbet imaginable. The flavours exploded on the tastebuds. My husband's dish of icecreams included vanilla, the sorbet, and a pretty amazing prune and armagnac icecream, all home made.

The Emperor is aiming high, and I wish it well.

If you're interested in the history of pub names, this one is fascinating. It goes back 300 years and was once called the Brickmakers Arms.

At the end of the 19th century this was changed to The King of Prussia. But who wants the name of the enemy when the country is going through World War I?

So in 1917, by special royal permission, it became The Emperor of India (then George V).

So many people mistake it for an Indian restaurant that Jane now plans to change the name to The Emperor at Farnham Royal.

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