It was a beautiful sight: I was looking out of my bedroom window over Belfast Lough from the plush Hastings Culloden Hotel. Curiously the hotel takes its name from two famous battles and even its telephone number ends in 1066. On the other side of the Lough, in the early evening dusk, the lights of Carrickfergus had begun to twinkle. At that moment I realised I was watching a line from a movie title; trains and boats and planes. Below me a train rolled by towards Bangor, an aeroplane was making its approach to Belfast airport and a ferry was sailing majestically up the Lough. I was looking forward to the evening, I was going to Northern Ireland's newest Michelin-starred restaurant, called Oriel.

My guests for the evening were an old friend who resolutely insists on anonymity, and Julia Kennedy, who works for the BBC in Belfast. We travelled together to Gilford, which is where Oriel is, and the man who wasn't there was able to fill me in during the drive with a bit of local history as went. You could argue that Gilford is in the very heartland of Ulster, both geographically and culturally. As a town it doesn't immediately catch the eye, there are no architectural splendours, no grand urban lay-out, just a small town that sits sleepily minding its own business. Oddly, it's here, in an unprepossessing house, that you'll find Oriel. From outside it looks like any one of the other houses lining the streets - a little porch of PVC windows leads you in to a small sitting room where a couple of arm chairs and sofas are placed. A small brick surrounded fireplace burned a welcome and my first impressions were of a comfy and unpretentious rural tea-room.

We went straight through into the dining room, which had a kind of Tardis effect. Apparently there's a lot more of the house out the back than there is at the front, because the dining room is spacious, with tables far enough apart for privacy. The décor is simple, but refined. Pleasing lighting, large tables and comfortable chairs, good napery and glassware make it plain that despite initial impressions, you're in an elegant restaurant.

Whatever you may feel about the inadequacies of the Michelin Guide, a star rating rarely lets you down. You know from the outset that the cuisine will be of standard that is hard to fault and Oriel is no exception to this rule. What might surprise southern diners are the prices. Starters average around £7, main courses around £17 and desserts £6, so when you convert to euros you're paying about €45 a head for the food, which by the standards of the Republic, is remarkable. I spent that much last week for a simple lunch in Dublin that wasn't Michelin starred. If you really want to push the boat out, they also have a tasting menu at £50, which comprises eight courses.

There's a long and well chosen wine list, which I handed to the man who wasn't there to choose a wine for us. He picked out a beautiful white burgundy, a 1999 Meursault, which was honeyed and creamy and was a perfect accompaniment to our meal. I should explain at this point that when it comes to food and wine, Julia knows her stuff. She worked for years with Jancis Robinson where she developed a taste for good burgundies, and recently produced a cookery series with American chef Tyler Florence - in short, for a reviewer she's a perfect guest.

Our meal began with an <it>amuse bouche, a veloute of Jerusalem artichokes with truffle oil, which was divine. So good, that Julia finished mine for me when I wasn't looking. Next came the carpaccio and here's Julia's take on it. "Our first course was carpaccio of Aberdeen Angus beef, confit of foie gras, wild organic rocket, horseradish and truffle aioli. The beef was melt-in-your-mouth tender and the rocket crunchy and peppery, a testament to the restaurant's mission to buy the best. It came from the Rungis market in Paris and I'd drive to Gilford again just for a taste of that."

Next Julia picked a starter for her main course, a fricassee of cockles and mussels, fresh linguini, seared scallops, cucumber and ginger veloute. The combination of home made pasta and lightly cooked fresh scallops and mussels and hint of ginger was a winner. Mystery man had a perfectly produced breast of Lincolnshire duckling with a shallot tarte tatin, and I chose the light and delicate pan-seared turbot, which came with creamed celeriac and sautéed spinach. At this point the three diners couldn't have been happier.

It's impossible to leave a table like this without a dessert, but I'll let Julia tell you about it. "In time-honoured girlie style I declined the dessert menu but encouraged Paolo to have one so that I could eat his and not feel guilty. Paolo watched in silence as I enjoyed every last mouthful of his pudding. It was a study of Valrhona chocolate and pistachio, hot and cold, with a hot chocolate soufflé, raspberry sorbet and the piece de resistance, a tiny glass of raspberry milkshake which we fought over. This was a chocoholic's dream. During dinner I found myself contemplating the faultlessly cooked dishes in front of me and realising that we were not in not in London, Paris, or New York . Barry Smyth has a world-class restaurant in Oriel. Attention to detail is flawless and the staff are attentive with a natural warmth sadly lacking in many Dublin establishments these days."

All I can add to that is to remind you that Gilford's not really that far away. A determined foodie could get there from Dublin and back in a night, although an overnight stay would really make an evening of it.