Where There's Smoke, Masham: Ex Tate Modern head chef cooking over hot coals in former Vennels restaurant

Chef-owner Jon Atashroo and his wife Arlette have taken over the once revered Vennels restaurant, and may I say, Jon Vennels and his wife's legacy was going to take some beating. However, the new chef Jon -the old and new having the same name is somewhat confusing, sorry – does come with an impeccable CV.

Names such as Aubergine in Chelsea, where he started, two-star Hibiscus, and La Trompette and Arbutus, both one star, trip off the tongue. He was also head chef at Tate Modern. It was, however, at Elliots in London, with its delicious food cooked on wood grills, where Jon veered to this form of direct cooking, so I think I can see where his inspiration in Masham may be coming from.

But let's put the food aside for a moment. Where There's Smoke is also a smart-looking place after some much-needed TLC was poured into it and a very stylish eye cast over it. Everything from the small bar tucked back from the main dining room to the wide shop-front out onto Silver Street was also stylishly decorated for the passers-by and, like us, those sat next to it.

The place felt so personable; someone cares very much about it, and I am told that Arlette has a big hand in that side.

The staff too are warm and welcoming and nothing, it seems, is too much trouble. I suspect one or two were new and still finding their feet a little, but under the watchful direction from manager John Goodyear, this was a finely tuned, polished operation without pretension or fuss.

That's that side sorted, but there's still the coals to deal with, and this is a tasting menu-only place, so, no choice, just veggie or meat. We chose one of each. Jon feels very passionate about sourcing sustainable British produce, and I also read, specifically, about Mashamshire – as he called it, too.

His menu is constantly evolving and changing, so apologies now, as what I write about here will most likely not be available by the time you read this.

We start with teeny tiny snacks, and as the menus are both meat and non-meat, there is some cross-over, but the mushroom cup is on both and, coincidentally, is our favourite: a tiny cup with an oomph of flavour. We are still together with crusty treacle bread and a rich, tangy buttermilk butter.

The bread is soft and squishy in the middle; we argue over whether there is fruit in there as we wolf down huge chunks and give up caring about whatever is in this bread or not; it is superb.

We are again on the same dish with a lovely thick cauliflower soup with raisins, cashew and coriander. Again, I can wax lyrical on the taste, the texture and the delicate flavours from the garnish. Still, I want to mention the bowl it is served in as it is so pretty and handmade by, unbelievably, Jon, who is also a potter and has made most of the bowls and crockery for the restaurant.

Jon wanted to be 100 per cent home-produced pottery, but given the amount needed to set up the restaurant, he called on his friend and great potter Owen Wall to help, so the bowl was either from him or Jon. That's what I call a USP. In all my years doing this job, I have never met a chef-potter, and fiddling about with ceramics as I do in my spare time, I am hugely impressed.

At this part in the tasting menu, we part company on our table. Me with grilled white asparagus, flavour-packed chanterelles, little dots of black garlic, and crunchy crumb, which I believe may be sourdough and though this is neither a seasonal nor particularly local plate of food, I care not, it is good and only my second meeting with the hot coals so far in this meal.

From the carnivore menu comes a fresh, bright, palette-pleasing plate of ceviche of striped bass, seasonal blood orange and wild garlic mayo.

Hogget, a much under-used meat from two-year-old sheep, is not the prettiest arrangement on the plate but a real hit on intense, well-developed flavours of great meat that doesn't need the Dukka sprinkled over it. However, I am slightly disappointed in my egg yolk ravioli with grilled broccoli and its hefty grating of Grana Padano.

Nevertheless, I appreciate the technical prowess of producing the perfectly cooked soft yolk between thick pasta sheets. Still, after the delicacy of the previous courses, I felt this was too heavy for my appetite.

The joy of joys with the dessert because as someone who does not care much about a traditional cheesecake with its crunchy base, you can give me the precariously wobbly Basque version, baked without any crust, any time.

Here it is gloriously good. We finally finish with a tiny peanut chocolate, then sit back and discuss our dinner.

We agree it was superb, and any misgivings about blackened this or that, wafts of smokiness from the coals deadening anything in its wake do not exist here.

Working out what had been near the coals or not was betrayed only by scorch marks or a whisper of smoke now and again. How clever.

This place is good and the menu at £60 per head a steal for the quality. Thank you, Jon and Arlette, for bringing this special place to Masham. We all keenly felt the void left by the Vennels, but you have filled their boots admirably. I can't wait to return.

Where There’s Smoke

7 Silver Street, Masham, North Yorkshire, HG4 4DX, Tel: 01765 689000

Open: Thurs – Sat, 7pm – 10pm