Its main feature is a railway bridge and in years gone by, its main attraction was Geary's antique shop, close by and embedded in a slope so that you entered at one level, went up a flight of stairs and could exit at another.

The lower level of this long, ancient-looking property which might, at one time have been a row of cottages, consisted of a series of low-ceilinged showrooms connected by a passage and filled with the sort of furniture which has to be wiped because of people coming in and drooling over it.

Upstairs, presided over by ancient Mrs Geary Senior who, with her deceased husband, had run a second-hand furniture business and junk shop on the same site, was the run-of-the mill stuff of house clearances, except that Tony could never bring himself to throw anything away, however dilapidated or unfashionable. Consequently, among the hundreds of chairs, desks, tables and huge old wardrobes which were stacked to the ceiling, all sorts of strange treasures could be found.

I have one at home – a curved-sided cast-iron cooking pot of the sort that would be seen on a Yorkshire range, and in which, for many years, I have made my morning porridge. Beyond the furniture store on the upper floor was where Tony's expert cabinet maker and restorer had his workshop. Tony's love of beautifully-made pieces made his shop a Mecca for those who shared it. And it is pleasing, therefore, to be able to report that the restaurant which it has been turned into following his retirement continues that same ethos of excellence.

It is run by award-winning Stephen Thompson, formerly head chef at Pudsey's Tiberio Restaurant. He describes the food he serves as "modern British with a Continental twist," and everything served there, including the bread and ice cream, is prepared in his kitchen.

The series of small rooms gives the place intimacy, even when well-filled, as it was on the Tuesday night we went. The first impression is homely but tasteful, and it is clear that someone has taken a lot of care to get things right, with the result that there is much that's pleasing, including the lighting, the paintings that are hung and the red and white carnations sitting in dinky little vases
on the tables.

The waitresses, dressed in black, are smart, efficient and professional and while having the wine uncorked at the table (ours was an Italian Linteo Chardonnay at £11.95, described as one of the "house" whites, and undistinguished) is a small thing, it is often overlooked.

The menu is old-fashioned to the extent that it is huge, with 16 starters and 17 mains. I'd normally worry about that, wondering how ingredients for such a range could possibly all be fresh, but if 114 The Arch is pretty well filled on a late April Tuesday night, I suppose freshness isn't likely to be a problem. But perhaps our choices would not have exposed it, if it had been. The impression I got by the time we left is that this restaurant is not in the business of doing things by half measures. Helpings are large and flavours robust and unapologetic. A starter of home-made chicken and smoked bacon sausage with bubble and squeak was a meal in itself, with a big bold baron of a sausage packed full of interest that remained enticing to the end. And the bubble and squeak was as good as I've ever had.

Our other starter, a luscious hot-smoked salmon and crab terrine with wholegrain toasted muffin was equally generous and equally pleasing.

Ordering the "duo of French duck, pan roasted breast and confit of home-made duck sausage with rosemary and spring onion mash" invited the question: "How would you like the duck?" which, like wine being opened at the table, is often omitted even where standards are supposed to be high. A very large serving arrived, but was that a fault? It would have been if its size had been a substitute for the quality of its preparation, but that wasn't the case. Braised venison shoulder with spiced celeriac purée, French black pudding fritter and Port and juniper sauce, was less successful. I thought the meat far too soft and putting black pudding into a fritter robbed the black pudding of everything I like about black pudding. On the other hand, the celeriac purée, on which the venison sat and the accompanying sauce helped make up the deficit.

The "proper" chips we ordered made up for it even more. But the kitchen managed to do that mysterious "restaurant thing" to the carrots, in this case the sweet little Chantery variety, which makes them absolutely tasteless.

So to the puddings. A raspberry and Grande Marnier Eton Mess (apparently based on a Pavlova which got dropped at Eton) and a dark chocolate tart and Mascarpone ice cream sent us home feeling we had eaten extremely well in Stanningley. And not only well, but at a remarkably reasonable cost.


114 The Arch: Between Tuesdays and Fridays you can choose two courses for £14.50 or three for £16.95, although certain dishes carry a supplement and on Saturdays the prices go up by £2. Sunday lunch is £12.50 and £15.00.

The restaurant has its own car park. 114 The Arch, Richardshaw Lane, Stanningley, Pudsey.

Tel: 0113 236 3964. Booking is advisable.