There's a technique that I've developed from thirty years of driving across the continent that takes its inspiration from the divinatory arts such as the Tarot or the I Ching. In this case I leave the choice to geography. Here's how it works: you drive into the town that you're the closest to by dinner time, you drive around it until you find a parking place, then you go to the nearest restaurant. This system has taken me into a couple of execrable restaurants over the years, but it also found me 'La Rondinella', one of the best restaurants in the Emilia-Romagna, as well as countless other fine meals. In short, it's a system that works more often than it doesn't. I used it again this week, because my old friend Antonio Breschi was playing in The Purty Loft and we wanted to be there by 9.30. So my wife, my son and I set off for Sandycove early in the evening to see what we could find to get ourselves fed by 9 o'clock. Driving along the seafront we all three saw it together and a shout in unison went out 'There's a restaurant!' Not only that, but it had a parking place right next to it. Clearly the gods had spoken.

We entered 'Provence', which is a small ground floor room that has a view over the bay, but on the windy and rainy night we were there you couldn't get the full effect of the view. Neatly set up and bright it made a welcome change from the wild night outside. We took a table near the window and read the menu. Now just as its name suggests this is a French restaurant and the maitre who looked after us was French. Clearly this national characteristic runs into the kitchen as well, because there are plenty of French dishes on the menu. We had an a la carte menu as well as a mid-week special menu priced at €25 that I chose from. A compact, but well-chosen wine list of predominantly French wines came too, but perversely I chose an Italian wine, a Pinot Grigio priced at €22 for Susie and me, while Rocco drank beer. Before I leave the subject of drinks, at 'Provence' mineral water costs just €4 for a one-and-a-half litre bottle. If this restaurant can do it, why can't others?

Rocco was determined to choose the best of everything, so he started with the crab claws at €12 and went to a main course of scallops priced at €34. Susie decided on two starters, the warm duck salad and the starter portion of scallops, while I picked a chorizo and chick-pea salad followed by a beef casserole. Most of the starters were in the €7-€10 range, and main courses on the a la carte clustered around the €22 mark, making the mid-week special menu look like very good value indeed.

There are times when a restaurant manages to fulfil your expectations and even surpass them. It's a great feeling when that happens as it did in 'Provence'. The crab claws were perfectly cooked, Susie's duck salad had slices of breast cooked perfectly pink and slivers of duck liver cooked so exactly right that Rocco, who previously had not been a fan of liver, became a convert. My salad, though plain enough, had an excellent dressing with a flavour of good olive oil.

A delicious entremets of passionfruit sorbet followed for all of us before the star turn of the main courses. Scallops are a wonderful food, but they're frequently ruined by over-cooking. The plate placed before Rocco was filled with perfectly cooked and delicious scallops, while a similar, but smaller plateful was placed before Susie. They were so good that persuading either of them to give me a taste was hard.

Although my menu choice allowed me a dessert, like my wife and son I was simply unable to eat one, feeling utterly replete and very contented with my lot. They understand here what a 'short' espresso is, so I had two. We'd just paid the bill when my phone rang. It was Antonio. 'We're just finishing,' I said, 'we'll be at the Purty Kitchen in five minutes.' 'But the concert's tomorrow night', said Antonio. My family looked daggers at me, I could almost hear the unspoken remonstration 'you made us come to Dublin for a concert on the wrong night'. Never was I so pleased that we'd been well fed, even if this was my fault (and I still believe it wasn't). After a meal this good, who could mind enormously if the concert was next day?

So we lingered some more, enjoying the warmth of the dining room and watching the wind blowing the seafront around. We reminisced on little French restaurants that we'd discovered in remote parts of France by exactly this system, and concluded that trusting to the fates can be a successful strategy. A bill for €133 for the three of us seemed like money well spent for food this good.