One of the responsibilities of a food writer is to search out the new and different in the restaurant world, and relate discoveries to readers. That’s why one line in the Wednesday Food Section of The New York Times sent me scurrying up I-95. It seems that David Cunningham, a chef who had worked at L’Auberge de L’Ill in Alsace, Le Bernardin, Lespinasse and finally, Petrossian in New York, had decamped to set up quarters at the bucolic Yardley Inn.

This is another one of the historic inns of Bucks County. Formerly named the White Swan, the Yardley Inn once was a stopping-off place for farmers from New Jersey on their way to the Philadelphia Front Street Market. Destroyed by a flood in 1955, it was reopened in 1958 as the Yardley Inn. Owners Bob and Robin Freed have restored the inn with flowered wallpapers in the various dining rooms, dark wood paneling and furniture and oil-burning lanterns on every table. The antique decor and tranquil setting on the Delaware give no hint of the sophisticated delights that await the diner within.

We arrived there in a torrential rainstorm, but the restaurant was crowded and warm, and we were eager to try Chef Cunningham's cuisine. A look at the wine list showed the "30 wines at $30" collection that many restaurants have been adapting. It also features a Captain's List, from which you can have a Corton-Charlemagne at $250, or a $150 Tignanello -- not exorbitant for either wine. We drink a Kendall-Jackson Chardonnay that has to complement many different dishes, and manages to do so. A beautiful bread basket appears, holding lavasch, bread sticks and whole grain rolls artfully arranged.

My guests are fascinated by the "Triple Tastings" (from the tavern menu), a $15 appetizer that produces a three-tiered tray holding tiny, meaty dumplings with hoisin sauce, a rough-textured country terrine with black bread croutons and cornichons, silken gravlax of Bay of Fundy salmon and slices of rare tuna, all attractively displayed and decorated. This is a fine starter, and certainly enough for three people. Among other appetizers, everything is perfection -- from a pristine green salad dressed with a champagne vinaigrette to an unusual and delicious salad of beets, tender slivers of Belgian endive, slices of stewed quince, walnuts and Cabrales cheese (a salty Spanish blue). But the highlight is the timbale of tuna tartare, holding in its center a dip of ginger gelato, on a dish painted with wasabi remoulade. The textures and the contrast of cool gelato with the wasabi heat result in a fabulous combination. This is exactly the sort of dish one would expect to find at Petrossian, an extremely luxe Art Deco establishment in New York.

Still dazzled by our appetizers, we move on to seared scallops, bathed in a truffle reduction and tasting of the earth and the sea, which is the dish du jour, and a baked red snapper. (The menu says grouper, but our server informs us that they couldn't get any because of the hurricane down south -- I like that emphasis on freshness.) The snapper is glazed with a tomato-based sauce redolent of saffron and Pernod, on a bed of lightly sautéed, shredded cabbage. Its recipient claims it is the best piece of fish he's ever eaten.

A hefty braised shank of lamb disappears quickly, for it is so tender and the accompanying gnocchi -- sprinkled with pine nuts and summer savory -- are so light, that they both float off the plate. A simple grilled New York strip with a side of baked potato and crisp onion fritters is cloaked in a reduction of Syrah and the juices of the steak. My friend remarks, "I would have eaten the design off the plate, except that the china is all white."

The only harsh note in this parade of successes is the braised oxtail agnolotti. The agnolotti are fine, tender half-moons of pasta filled with fatty, meltingly tender meat, but the dish is not cooked enough. The slivered carrots and celery in the herbal wine sauce are raw, and the sauce is so thin that it reminds me of the ubiquitous oxtail soups of early trips to England.

As the waitress is clearing, I remark to her how competent she has been throughout the meal, and she replies, "I've learned so much since working here that I feel I really know my stuff!" She then plies us with desserts, the handiwork of pastry chef Matt Figueroa, and the favored one is the chocolate tart. On a thin cookie crust, the deep chocolate filling supports caramelized bananas, and there are more of these morsels, with chocolate sauce, on the side. An interesting take on a spicy carrot cake is that it is inside out -- the cream cheese frosting is in the center of the cylinder of cake. We also enjoy a selection of cheddar cheeses, including a goat cheddar with ashes, a Grafton and a Petit Basque, a sheep's milk cheese that is illuminating (I'd never tasted a cheddar from that region). Nuts and fruits of the season come along on the platter, and are just right.

Well, David Cunningham, it looks like you have a success on your hands. Your food is sophisticated, but not too cerebral for the country crowd, and you are using local products as well. Somehow, too, you've managed to keep the prices manageable. It's not Manhattan or Paris, but I believe that once the word gets out about your cooking, I-95 could turn into the Great White Way. And Bucks County gets yet another star, to keep company with places like Blueberry Hill and the Hamilton Grill. I can still taste that ginger gelato.