True, it was about as far from appetising as you can get, but spotting this as we crossed a stream and turned off the winding road into the Devonshire Arms' car park was undeniable proof that we were indeed in the countryside proper.

In fact, after passing Ilkley, the surroundings steadily became more and more idyllic – by the time we got out of the car, I'd fallen in love with this beautiful county all over again. So you could say our evening got off to a good start.

It's perhaps unfair on other restaurants to allow such factors to affect our verdict – not every restaurateur benefits from such a magnificent backdrop, nor do many chefs have a rambling estate on their doorstep. In which case we should also pointedly ignore the charm of the building itself, and the sense of luxury afforded by the interior.

The hotel has a decent brasserie, but it's the top-end we've come to experience tonight: The Burlington. A large space that's divided into three sections to lend it more intimacy, The Burlington is really very special. Quietly and confidently, it has remained one of the region's best restaurants for over half a decade now. This was down to a variety of factors: the setting, the standards of service and the wine list in particular, but first and foremost it was because of executive chef Michael Wignall, whose food was never short of spectacularly good. Sadly, Wignall upped sticks and moved to the five-star Pennyhill Park hotel in Surrey at the end of last year, and The Burlington subsequently lost its Michelin star.

Though its four AA rosettes look safe, it's evident that the Burlington's owners, the Chatsworth Settlement Trust, have the Gallic award in their sights. The new guy, Steve Smith, is no stranger to stars. He's held one at every restaurant he's worked at for the last 10 years, a list that includes Holbeck Ghyll in the Lake District, Guellers in Leeds, and Seaham Hall in County Durham.

Hoping for greatness, then, we opt for the tasting menu, which, at £70 a head, consists of so many courses I keep losing count before I reach the bottom of the list. If Smith is out to impress, then it's this menu that will allow him to really prove himself as a worthy successor to Wignall.

It bodes well that the canapés we're given in the comfy lounge are jaw-droppingly good – surprise favourite being the plump balls of mushroom risotto, which are buttery and cockle-warming. When we move in to The Burlington itself, fortunately seated in the middle of its most elegant section, I'm a little crestfallen at the sight of our first course. It looks like a cocktail shooter. In a sense it is. It's a cocktail of watercress, lemon and fermented ginger, served in what appears to be a shot glass.

It doesn't look like much, but the taste stops any doubts I had in their tracks – it's got real power, without being overpowering. And depth, too. It disappears in a flash but the taste lingers and develops until the next course hits the table.

Described as a tomato cocktail, we might be forgiven for expecting a highball filled with some sort of Bloody Mary to be the next thing on our table. Thankfully, we have returned to a world where food comes in dishes and on plates. Combined with yoghurt and caviar, it is light and very small, but with enough moments of intensity to carry this off.

The same applies to the smoked salmon that follows with cauliflower and langoustine foam – in fact, virtually every dish that follows is small, but the number of courses and the flavours on offer makes these modest portions rather necessary.

A plate of seared scallop (diver-caught of course) with celeriac, apple, smoked eel and truffle follows. Every single element shines through, and Smith's appointment is starting to seem like a very good thing indeed. So far, everything has been exceptional – though the best is yet to come.

The next dish is foie gras dominated, with marinated foie gras and some odd, but marvellously so, frozen foie gras paired with ham hock, pork cheek and pea purée. Obviously, it's that highly-prized liver that's supposed to provide the wow-factor, which it does. But for me it's outshone by what might have been the humblest part of the dish, the pea purée. I am genuinely gobsmacked by its intensity.

This becomes a recurring theme. A beautiful piece of halibut, perfectly cooked, with broad beans and asparagus is rendered heavenly by more of that pea purée, while the following course of "lamb textures" (for this read "various, and to some extent unidentifiable, bits of lamb") is boosted by a similarly miraculous broccoli purée.

By this point, the pleasurable onslaught of eclectic-shaped plates, each hosting something that looks almost too beautiful to eat, is beginning to cause me to lose my grip somewhat.

I've only had two glasses of wine in two hours – a fantastic Château de Puligny-Montrachet Bourgogne blanc and an equally good German pinot gris, Villa Wolf, both chosen from the 2000 bottle list with the help of the charming sommelier – but I am seemingly drunk on food.

As a result, the carrot sorbet with liquorice served in a martini glass seems so lovely I may have dreamt it. The same is true of the tiramisu, unfortunately now a rather downtrodden pud, but in Smith's hands, as with everything tonight, it is simply wonderful.

Back in the lounge for coffee, where a very generous plate bedecked with impeccable looking petits fours awaited, we agree that it's one of the best meals we've ever had. Of course, it really ought to be, at about £185 for a dinner for two that only featured a couple of glasses of wine – although you could shave off about another £25, if you choose the à la carte option.

Whatever you go for, thanks to Smith's spectacular food and a setting that exemplifies Yorkshire at its best, you'll feel you got your money's worth.

The Devonshire Arms Country House and Hotel, Bolton Abbey, Skipton, BD23 6AJ, 01756 718111.