Very occasionally I leave a restaurant with a feeling that borders on elation. That's something that the dining-out experience can generate in me, if all goes well. It's what's supposed to happen, but frequently doesn't. It all harks back to the French word 'restaurer', which means 'to refresh'. A restaurateur's job description then, isn't just to feed you - snout in the trough style - but to refresh you. The object is to leave you feeling better than when you went in; the <it>weltschmertz gone, a sense of well-being established, you leave with a trip to the step and a song in the heart. No small task, but it can be done.

Eamonn O'Reilly seems to have pulled off the near impossible, he's now got three restaurants up and running in Dublin: One Pico, Pacific, and Bleu. The last person to try this trick failed quite spectacularly, and is awaiting extradition to Ireland as I write. But if you think there are comparisons to be made, shift them from your mind set. Eamonn O'Reilly is a grafter. His original One Pico was in the less fashionable end of Camden Street, but like Ross Lewis in Chapter One, he never let the location stop him from making fine food, relying on that old principle 'build a better mouse-trap and they'll beat a path to your door'.

People have beaten a path to his doors; his move to Schoolhouse Lane with One Pico has been a success and the cavernously large Pacific still fills. But if he'd asked my opinion a year ago on whether to take on a third restaurant, I'd have advised him not to. The problem with spreading yourself thinly is that you have to rely enormously on other people who may or may not share your passion for perfection. It's a good thing he didn't ask for my advice, because my analysis was clearly wrong. Bleu doesn't just work well, it works very well.

My guest on the night was Virginia Fortune, who was the front of house manager in The Commons for years, and therefore a knowledgeable guest to have for company. Bleu has already had a high degree of exposure, so the night we went, we got one of the last tables after nine o'clock. Inside the newly built restaurant was filled with Dublin's bright young things, who seemed sparklier than ever in the spare, modernist interior. The dining room is essentially a square, with lots of glass, lots of wood and much attention to detail. This is the first room that I've seen that makes the wheelchair access into a feature. A long, gently raked ramp runs up the dining room leading to the loos, acting as a visual break in a square room and separating two levels of tables. It also serves as the main walkway from the kitchen, of which I had an unimpeded view.

There's something compelling about restaurant kitchens, maybe because we've seen them so often on TV. I couldn't stop watching the young chefs at work with their panoply of brand new stainless steel catering stuff all around them; calm, collected and composed. That same sense of competence was in the front of house as well, two restaurant managers worked the floor ceaselessly, with waiting staff that were clearly on the ball.

Bleu describes itself as a bistro, which is largely exact. It has the casual informality of a bistro, bistro prices and the sense of speed that bistro meals engender, but there the similarities end. The menu listings include some unusual and interesting dishes which you might expect to find in a more traditional up-market restaurant. It's clear that this menu's pedigree is coming from an inventive and innovative chef. A few dishes caught my eye; in the starters oysters tempura, crab spring roll, scallops and boudin noir and salmon crème brulee. Amongst the main courses were a smoked haddock omelette, a wild mushroom risotto and coq au vin in a cocotte. Starters were priced around €8 and €9, while main courses start from as little as €14.95, with none over €20.

Virginia began with the scallops and black pudding, which looked perfect on the plate - three scallops interspersed with the most mouth-watering black pudding I've ever tasted. They lay on a bed of horseradish flavoured mousseline mash and made one the finest starters of the year. And my oysters tempura was almost as wonderful - a really light batter and a gribiche sauce in a ramekin into which to dunk them. This level of skill and excellence continued uninterruptedly into our main courses - the coq au vin for Virginia and the mushroom risotto for me. Virginia's dish came served in its own cast iron cocotte in which it had been cooked, leaving it tender and lightly flavoured with tarragon. My risotto seemed to be the same good dish that I'd eaten in One Pico, a difficult dish to do well, but consummately done here.

We did manage to share a starter after this <it>grande bouffe, a baked goats cheesecake, but we were only able to manage tiny morsels of it. We'd accompanied the meal with a big bottle of mineral water and a bottle of the newly-born and excellent 'Neonato' from the Marques de Murrieta. The wine list is short enough, some thirty wines, but they're well chosen and the sommelier really knows his way around this list, so ask for help if you need it.

But the most remarkable thing about this restaurant is the price. Here in the very centre of the capital, with high rates and rents, we had one of year's best meals with a bill for just over €100. When I think of some of the mediocre meals I've eaten for more money than this, I'm convinced that Bleu really has found a winning formula. I wish it all success.