If you found something unusual twice in the same week you might fleetingly wonder what strange forces govern our universe. You might call it a coincidence and leave it that, or you might take Carl Jung's view and call it synchronicity. He explained this by likening it to a vortex, or a whirlpool effect created by the human mind when it focuses on something. This week I found myself focused on prices and the synchronicity, or if you prefer, coincidence, is that twice in the same week I found myself confronted by restaurant menus with main courses priced at over twenty pounds.

Prices like these aren't very common, so I would take twice in the same week to be a good case of synchronicity. The first time was in Berney's in Kilcullen where a main course of scampi was £23.50. The second time was in Peacock Alley in Dublin, where both main courses were £24. The similarities however, end there. In Berney's the service was friendly and homely, in Peacock Alley it's very French and very professional. The food, too, differs in much the same way: solid and competent in Berney's, innovative and very chic in Peacock Alley. And just to labour the point, one is a cosy country room annexed to a pub, the other is cuttingedge modern designed by Terence Conran. I make these comparisons to illustrate a point: no restaurant can be all things to all men. What is smart to one man might be simply smart-assed to another. Interesting and carefully presented food might be no more than 'fancy Frenchified food' to still another. Chacun a son gout, but for that kind of money my personal preference would be the ambience of Peacock Alley - it feels like better value for money.

My companion for my meal in Peacock Alley was Rebecca Robertson, who is tall, blonde and very striking, which is great for eliciting envious glances from all the men in the room. It's been nearly a year since we last ate out together, so there was a lot of catching up to be done. The restaurant's entrance is alongside that of the Fitzwilliam Hotel. A doorman is there to open it for you and there's valet parking if you want it. Up the thickly carpeted stairs and you arrive at the dining room. It's a large room in three main sections. To the right as you enter there are two sections which look over St. Stephen's Green, the smoking and the non smoking, and to your left there's a bar, some tables for two, a large table for private parties, and a big, shiny kitchen on view to the diners, peopled by a small army of chefs. We sat at the bar to look at the menus and wine list, where we had two glasses of champagne by way of an aperitif. Let me say this right away, this is not a cheap restaurant. Starters range from just under £10 to £15 and most of the main courses are over £20. The wine list too, is heavily marked up, although you can drink house wine reasonably enough. So the question that was going through my mind was can the quality justify the price? After all, it's true for almost everything, you get what you pay for.

Rebecca chose the goat's cheese as a starter and I couldn't resist the autumn truffle risotto, mainly because I can be pedantic and I've never heard of autumn truffles. Winter and summer yes, autumn never. Rebecca was enthused by the description of the mallard and chose that for her main course while I felt adventurous and picked the marinated, braised cheek of beef which is described on the menu as 'daube'. Game and beef meant a good, robust red so I chose the South African Stellenzicht, which is a merlot/cabernet franc mix from Stellenbosch and which costs £28. After we'd ordered we were shown to our table.

I liked the feel of the room: there's a silvered ceiling with recessed lighting; thick carpet; stark, geometric art on the walls; big linen-covered tables with soft, upholstered chairs and large windows overlooking the Green. Beautiful crockery and fine cutlery completes the setting. I noted rather smugly that the smokers got the better part of the division of the room, which makes a change. A huge array of different breads and some amuse bouches kept us busy until the starters arrived. Their presentation was superb; both our starters looked wonderful on the plate. A small goats' cheese tartlet on a bed of polenta was decorated with pumpkin seeds, asparagus, tomato and basil; the risotto was perfectly cooked Arborio rice flavoured with truffle shavings and surrounded with wild mushrooms, which probably explains the 'autumn' in the description.

Next came the intercourse: a passionfruit sorbet that had just a hint of tartness with a natural yoghurt topping - very good indeed. And after that the main courses, served as you might expect in the fashionable way: stacked. I'm not sure that I have any strong feelings one way or the other about this way of presenting food, but it makes a change from having your food spread about the plate. Rebecca's mallard was presented as slices of breast around a cake of garlic cream mash potato with a leg placed vertically in the centre, surrounded by goats' cheese wontons. My daube of beef was a slightly higher stack: the base was a basil mash potato bed upon which was the daube, on top of that spinach, then a thick slice of tomato and then a mushroom cap - the whole covered with a sauce bearnaise, surrounded with caramelised leeks and carrots.

This was very good food, beautifully presented and carefully cooked. My only quibble with it was that it's almost too rich in flavours - the sheer variety of tastes in each course can tire the palate. We finished our meal with a lemon tart and an arteryblocking chocolate mortal sin, which I devoured shamelessly.

The service throughout our meal accomplished that rare feat of being extraordinarily attentive without ever being obtrusive. It's exactly the kind of service that allows a conversation or a mood to continue throughout a meal without interruption; ideal for business people striking a deal or for lovers. It's definitely a restaurant for a special occasion when the cost is not the major factor. By the end of the meal I'd answered my own question: this kind of quality comes at a price because there are so many people involved, from the kitchen to the waiting staff. It's another level of eating out, and if you're a hedonist like me, it's one that's worth trying if the pocket can afford it.