A good 50 percent of my recent meals throughout Britain were disappointing, for all the above reasons. The chefs who do manage to offer a good time, and convince you that you ought to return, are those listed here: People who have a sense of who they are, what they're trying to offer and where they're headed.

The general concept that Britain is a food wasteland is hogwash: Recent upgrading in the quality of fish and shellfish, meats, farmhouse cheeses and fruits, a clear dedication to good-quality bread, and a serious sweet tooth all add up to some very honest, decent food. And I've rarely tasted better bacon.

A single British subject probably knows more about French wine than a village full of Frenchmen, and where else can you find such an abundance of good Port with good blue cheese?

Stay clear of the trendmongers, and you should eat very well indeed.

No.1: The Seafood Restaurant, Riverside, Padstow, Cornwall PL28 8BY, England, tel: (841) 532-485. -

No.2: The Walnut Tree Inn, Llandewi Skirrid NP7 8AW, 3 miles northeast of Abergavenny, Wales, tel: (873) 852-797. -

No.3: La Potiniere, Main Street, Gullane EH31 2AA, Scotland, tel: (620) 843-214.

KEEPING it simple is one of life's most difficult lessons to learn. Oh, how we give in to the urge to embellish. One world chef who seems truly to respect the laws of simplicity is the fish and shellfish master Rick Stein, who with his wife, Jill, runs Britain's renowned Seafood Restaurant. A sparkling, straightforward little spot on the Padstow waterfront in Cornwall, this pleasant family restaurant offers some of the true jewels of the sea.

Both cold and hot platters of fruits de mer, alabaster codfish, sprightly oysters, state-of-the-art lobster creations and jaunty dishes such as scallops steamed in their shells and embellished with scallions and ginger are just a few of the eve-changing offerings.

Stein won my heart with a perfect platter of three varied oysters: the delicate and almondy Helfords; sharp, clean, crinkle-shelled Pacific oysters, and the plump, liquor-filled Loch Fynn from Scotland.

As an encore, he presented one of life's true gastronomic glories, a perfectly grilled lobster, dabbed with a rich fish fumet and infused with a festive melange of brilliantly flavored fresh herbs, including tarragon, chervil, parsley, chives and a zesty touch of lemon. One could live a long time simply on the memory of those two dishes, carried along with a nice bottle of Italy's fresh, clean Vernaccia di San Gimignanano 1991, from the house of Terruzzi e Puthod.

But the Seafood Restaurant doesn't stop there: It may be simple, but far from stingy. There's sweet, sweet butter for the extra-crunchy baguettes, along with a rosemary and Parmesan-pepper bread offered with the assortment of cheeses that might inlude Milleens (a raw cow's-milk cheese from County Cork in Ireland); a nicely matured Stilton, or a she's-milk cheese from Rams Hall. All this goes down nicely with a few sips of Graham's 1984 Vintage Port. For dessert, don't miss the extra-crunchy, memorable creme brulee ice cream.

Closed Sunday and late December to early February. Lunch menu, £20.25 ($30); dinner menu, £26.50; a la carte, £28 to £75.

Who would imagine finding a truly great Italian restaurant tucked inside a crisp, white- washed pub on a country road in the bucolic border country where Wales meets England? Some 30 years ago Franco Taruschio (an Italian trained in Italy, Switzerland and France) and his English wife, Ann, transformed a rugged country drinking spot into a lively, popular and now much-publicized trattoria.

The British food writer Elizabeth David made it one of her favorite haunts, and in her introduction to their new cookbook, "Leaves from the Walnut Tree," the writer Jan Morris compares The Walnut Tree Inn to Harry's Bar in Venice. And if the proof's in the tasting - as it must be - all the hoopla is merited, for I'd be happy for Taruschio to cook for me any day.

From his moist and juicy home-cured beef, or bresaola, to his warm salad of crisp artichokes, fennel and dried tomatoes, to his Pantagruelian pasta vincigrassi - a veritable, steaming mound of porcini mushrooms, Parma ham, truffles, bechamel, Parmesan and egg-rich fresh pasta - you know that he has that incomparably Italian touch right down to the core of his bones. And he transmits that joy right to your plate, with a fluffy spinach-and-ricotta tart, warm baby artichokes stuffed with fresh herbs, and a clove- and nutmeg-spiced platter of braised oxtail alla vaccinaria, nicely embellished with soft, boiled celery branches.

The Inn is modest, to say the least, and many complain that the simple stainless flatware, the unadorned interior take away any potentially festive air. My response is: When you find great food, go for it, and forget about the silver and glassware. The Taruschios' latest passion is bread, and once again they've hit it right with crusty breads ideal for his seafood bruschetta, a fresh and moist focaccia, and sturdier versions studded with walnuts or olives. Save room for their extra-delicious lonzi di fichi, a dried and cured fig "salami" enriched with walnuts, almonds and dates, and served in slices along with a cheese platter that includes Gorgonzola, a mature cheddar and a smoky sheep's-milk cheese.

Closed Sunday, Monday, and two weeks in February. A la carte, £27 to £68.

It's not often you can go out and have a thoroughly honest home-cooked meal, served up in a tiny dollhouse-size restaurant where a world-class wine list awaits. Amazingly, in this day and age, La Potiniere (a half hour by car from Edinburgh on the main street of Gullane), remains a two-person affair, as Hilary Brown shops, chops, cooks and cleans up, while her husband, David, buys the wine, polishes the glasses, irons the linens, serves, clears and acts as all-around host, as they've done since opening in 1975.

Today they have a single Michelin star, along with a lengthy waiting list, for there is only one sitting a day, and room for just a handful of diners. The food is earnest, homey and traditional, with set menus that might include: an ultra-fresh, pure version of potage Saint-Germain; a crisp-skinned wedge of salmon on a bed of greens; wild wood pigeon in a hearty morel sauce, and a pleasing lemon-surprise pudding, half souffle, half lemon curd, a puckery end to a pleasing meal. With it, we sampled a silken Volnay from the Domaine de la Pousse d'Or.

Lunch only: Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Sunday; dinner only: Friday and Saturday. Closed Wednesday. Set menu: £18.25 and £19.25 (Sunday) at lunch; £28.50 at dinner.

No.1: La Tante Claire, 68 Royal Hospital Road, London SW3 4HP, tel: (71) 352-6045.

No.2: Clarke's, 124 Kensington Church Street, London W8 4BH, tel: (71) 221-9225.

No.3: Bibendum, Michelin House, 81 Fulham Road, South Kensington, London SW3 6RD, tel: (71) 581-5817.

IF you go along with the theory that the best cooks in the world are simply trying to recapture the flavors of their youth, then you have Pierre Koffmann - chef- owner of La Tante Claire in London - in a nutshell.

But Koffmann brings a lot more than his memories of a French farm boyhood in Gascony to his cuisine. There's also a healthy dose of solid culinary training - enhanced by a great endurance and dogged determination.

We're lucky that Koffmann didn't grow up to be the farmer he hoped to be, for what he has done is brought some of the finest peasant cuisine of France's southwest to London.

La Tante Claire is small - room for no more than 45 diners - and crisply decorated in shades of daffodil, royal blue and white. Service is efficient, quietly attentive, with not a drop of pretension. The food seems to satisfy all that Koffmann sets out to achieve.

Two of his finest dishes come straight from the farm, yet somehow taste as though they're brand new, updated, citified. Of course. Why not a pot-au-feu de foie gras?

Take that fat, voluptuous lobe of duck liver, poach it just a bit, then team it up with an avalanche of fresh, faintly crunchy baby vegetables, such as perfectly blanched fava beans, peas, cabbage, carrots, snow peas, green beans in a deep, haunting broth. Try it with a few sips of Zind-Humbrecht 1991 Riesling and your palate will do a little dance.

And while we're at it, let's take a rare, exemplary specimen of wild Scottish salmon and poach it in goose fat. This isn't just some wacky bilingual attempt at surf-and-turf, for Koffmann re-creates a childhood specialty of salmon from the Adour River poached in goose fat, much like duck or goose confit.

The result is sensual, satisfying, totally valid, for the goose fat imposes nothing, doesn't try to compete, only serves to enhance the salmon's silky, smooth virtues. A dollop of mashed potatoes, a tiny salade frisee make it a most agreeable meal. Swirl along with it a glass of Tollot- Beaut's 1986 Corton, and toast Koffmann's thoroughly modern, on-target French cooking.

Closed Saturday, Sunday, Christmas and New Year's Day. Set lunch, £25 ($37); £45 minimum charge at dinner.

If I ever ran a restaurant, I would want it very much to resemble Clarke's, for Sally Clarke's neat-as-a-pin, cheery and ultimately satisfying restaurant offers much of what we go out to eat for.

She makes it all look so easy, that appealing menu that somehow knew we were in the mood for familiar fare with a bit of a twist: So why not combine a few slices of creamy, moist mozzarella, add some flawless, oil-cured anchovies, capers, huge leaves of flat, fresh parsley, olives and - here's the surprise - halves of purple-black grapes. Sweet and almost squishy, they play at trompe l'oeil, teasing us into thinking they're salty black olives.

The capers are just a whisper, the bed of parsley leaves as salad a welcome refreshment. It's a casual place in a way, but one that doesn't take itself casually. No airs, yet those lean and smiling waiters and waitresses in shirts and slacks and crisp striped aprons, could just as well be serving in an upscale spot, decked out in tuxedos, all polish and poise.

This time of year, you're likely to walk in with the rain and out with the sunshine, and that warm platter of baby leeks and hops, showered with chervil, chives and truffle butter (that actually hints of the rare black tuber), lets you put the raindrops behind you. While the menu might make it sound like this is just another Mediterranean-trendy spot, the overall result is quite cerebral, and fully pleasing.

So when Sally Clarke tucks fresh herbs beneath the skin of a moist, flavorful chicken breast, or combines mint and balsamic vinegar for a sauce to pour atop new-season grilled lamb, you don't go "ho, hum," but quite the reverse. I adored her choice of cheeses - a subtle and nutty village-made sheep's-milk Spenwood, and a mushroomy Cooleeney Irish farmhouse cow's-milk offering - served with delectable, crumbly oatmeal crackers and tiny radishes spread with butter.

A fruit-on-fruit dessert, Bramley apple fritters with rhubarb sauce, offered a fine play of textures, a sweet and homey close to a meal worth repeating. There's not much choice at lunchtime (just two first courses, two mains, a dessert or a cheese) and none at dinner time, though one could do much worse than put your palate in the hands of Sally Clarke.

Closed Saturday, Sunday, two weeks at Christmas, one week at Easter, two weeks in summer, and bank holidays. Fixed price meals: £22 and £26 at lunch, £37 at dinner.

Over the past few years, each visit to London has necessarily included a trip to Bibendum, to sample Simon Hopkinson's able, ample cuisine, and rarely does he disappoint. How could one not be uplifted in such bright, good-times surroundings, with the light streaming through the brilliant stained-glass windows and the jaunty Michelin man egging you on?

In this successfully restored turn-of-the-century Michelin garage on Fulham Road, Hopkinson tinkers with a touch of French, a hint of Mediterranean, a nod to British culinary history. On my most recent visit, I fell thoroughly in love with his simple artichoke vinaigrette, a stunning platter of baby artichokes stuffed with a finely diced mixture of parsley, garlic, capers and black olives, a play on the traditional tapenade, but one with greater crunch and vitality.

He served it with a spiced-up version of the Middle Eastern chick-pea spread, or hummus. While he's perfectly content to offer a totally traditional Caesar salad, he'll be sure to add a touch of spice to a traditional pea soup, or put you in the mood for a warming tart of ham, gruyere and sage. Even when a dish sounds wacky - such as the duck with artichoke and pear salad he offered a few months back - he wins you over with his talent for making it all agreeable to the palate.

In this case, the duck had a haunting smoke to it, playing well with the pale, understated flavors and textures of its companions. Clients are ever complaining about the prices of the wine list, but if they were looking for bargains, they wouldn't be here in the first place. On my most recent lunch, I reveled in the discovery of two delightful Italian reds from Sardinia: garnet-hued and pleasingly scented, the Rocca Rubia Carignano del Sulcis 1990 and the Terre Brune 1989 seemed right at home with Hopkinson's roast rump of lamb with whites beans spiced with a hint of paprika. Open daily. Closed

Christmas and Easter Monday. Set lunch menu: £25. A la carte, £24 to £81, including service but not wine.