EVERY year I have enjoyed a little flutter on the gee-gees, in league with the sainted Mrs FM, whose surprisingly broad life experiences do not quite stretch to the inner workings of turf accountancy.

Naturally, this solitary gamble takes place in conjunction with the Grand National. I have to say that I feel some kind of Catholic guilt and a distinct shortage of knowledge of 'form'.

Actually my scant knowledge of this arena even extends to a complete inability to work out how to enter the aforementioned den of iniquity or what to do once inside.

Although there is the remotest chance that the annual FM family gamble might have lost our wager, I seem to recall that I have never funded the bookies' next holiday trip to Mauritius by seldom placing much more than a 'tenner' on proceedings.

Naturally, the task of placing the aforementioned bet on the Aintree race has always been the duty of the man-of-the-house but, for some reason, we completely missed the opportunity this year.

I think that it may have had something to with The Boy summonsing me to join him in the lounge, at a god-forsaken hour, to view the Grand Prix.

Carrying out the noble act of reviewing eateries can be a gamble sometimes, especially where fish dishes are concerned.

Should there be the remotest hint of anything awry about the shellfish, having visited a supposedly fine restaurant in the French city of Dijon, where I consumed a dozen oysters, only to discover that at least two of them were 'off' that led to my subsequent near-death illness, I shall dispatch them to the kitchen post-haste.

The same applies to salmon, trout and any breed of fish you care to nominate, which brings me rather neatly to dinner, in which my dear friend Swiss Tony, and me participated.

It was our usual 'chaps' night out, as permitted under the terms of my current marital arrangement. Mrs FM was spending a typical evening out at her ladies' coven while Swiss and me headed into the countryside due east of Lincoln to a public house, the White Hart, that I had spotted at the quaint hamlet of Lissington on a recent trip to Market Rasen.

As it is less than 15 minutes from the centre of town, it was entirely suitable for both of us. We parked up and strolled towards the lounge/dining-room access door.

Swiss pointed out that the place bore all of the hallmarks of a traditional pub of the late-1960s and, to be honest, much of the décor did look as if it originated from that period.

When Mein Host appeared and disinterestedly handed us a menu apiece, we knew that little had altered in the intervening 40 years.

From a fairly straight-forward menu we selected our courses, starting with home-made soup for me (which was promised as roast chicken broth, but actually became mixed vegetable) and a prawn cocktail for Swiss.

The first courses would be followed by a salmon steak and chicken breast and we would order our desserts later.

As we nattered, a chunk of fresh French stick and a butter patty each had been placed alongside our table settings. A piping hot bowl of rusty coloured broth, with a swirl of fresh cream and a sprinkling of chives had been placed in front of me.

The prawn cocktail for Swiss was served on a quarter-plate, rather than in a parfait dish, accompanied by fresh crispy green salad leaves and topped by Marie Rose sauce.

To begin with I was surprised at the non-chickeny flavour of my soup, although it was delicious enough and I did finish it, but Swiss asked me to taste his prawns, which he described as tasting a bit 'sweaty'.

We both concurred that, while the prawns tasted perfectly fine, they may have been slightly freezer-burnt.

Our settings were cleared and the mains brought to us. As it happened, Swiss had requested chips as an accompaniment to his chicken, while I had ordered new potatoes.

There were no separate serving bowls, as the vegetables were served alongside on our plates and included identical portions of cheesey-flavoured leeks (a gooey but tasty mix), fresh petit pois and fresh green beans.

The chips on Tony's dinner plate were golden brown, crunchy and delicious while the halved new potatoes on my plate were equally perfect, with lovely waxy flesh and a well-rounded taste.

My salmon steak was golden brown on the skin and the flesh was moist and a deep orangey-pink beneath.

It tasted very good and possessed a pleasant consistency, although it was slightly over-cooked. Tony's chicken breast was also moist, with a nice fleshy consistency and it tasted superb.

To be fair, there is very little that can go wrong with pub grub at this level. It was fairly honest and uncomplicated, while lacking any attempts to stray into fine dining territory, although the pricing was up with the local average.

However, a lot of the customers visiting on same evening also partook of the menu choices, so it is clear that the White Hart has a moderate reputation with its local trade.

For dessert, we were shown the single sheet menu containing around eight desserts, cheese and biscuits and a choice of after-dinner beverages including tea and coffee. We forewent the drinks but ordered a lemon and sultana cheesecake with vanilla ice-cream for Swiss, while I chose the apple pie with custard. When they arrived I was absolutely certain that the cheesecake was not produced on the premises, although the apple pie was clearly home-made.

Tony did not finish his dessert, declaring that he had eaten enough, although my apple pie was so good and the custard so nicely balanced that I consumed it all.

I settled the bill for £46.15 which I thought was a little steep for a pub meal for two, although I had no intrinsic complaints to make, apart from the confusing soup, which I am sure may have been a minor error on the part of Mein Host, as it was only described as 'Soup of the Day' on the menu.

While it is true that eating in pubs can be something akin to a gamble in the Lincolnshire area, as some establishments have a different slant to others in terms of produce quality, portion quantities and serving styles and even value for money, local people vote with their feet and, if the place is just not good enough, I doubt that we would have witnessed so many happy customers.

Were this pub to undergo a little splash of paint and a minor updating, I am sure that it might satisfy many more people.