A couple of weeks ago I took part in a forum to discuss the state of Irish cuisine. The discussion was lively, interesting, and covered everything from restaurants to home cooking. There was a general agreement that things have improved enormously in Ireland over the past couple of decades, especially in the restaurant sector. I suggested that with the increase in the number of restaurants, more and more chefs would find work here rather than abroad and that as the good restaurants trained more young chefs, sooner or later that growth in the talent base would be manifested in exciting new restaurants.

I've believed that to be true for some years, but finding actual evidence to back it the theory hasn't been too easy. It's a rare event that I come out of a restaurant so excited by what I've had that I can't wait to get the word processor to write about it. This week was one of those occasions.

The Belfry is not on the beaten track - it's on the road between Mullingar and Castlepollard. By any standards it's remote; passing trade and casual droppers-in are going to be few and being outside the capital makes it harder to get yourself known: word of mouth spreads between fewer people and reviewers don't often venture outside the capital.

I met up with my friend Gill Hall in Dublin's Blackrock at 6.30, our plan being to miss the traffic on the M50 and get to Mullingar by 8.30. Incredibly, at 7.45 we pulled in The Belfy's car park, amazed at how quick the journey had been. Before I get carried away with descriptions of the food, I'll tell you a bit about the building. The evening light made The Belfry look beautiful: it's an old church with a fine spire and the cut stone gleamed prettily in the gloaming. It wasn't always so. The church had fallen into disuse and by 1970 it had lost its roof. By the Millennium it had large trees growing inside it when the decision was made to renovate it. A new roof, underfloor heating, subtle lighting, a mezzanine which acts as a lounge, new floors, fine furniture and a cookery school alongside completed the restoration.

Oddly it doesn't feel like a church inside. Yes, there's the huge stained-glass window at one end and the gothic-arched side windows, but the feel is more that of a comfortable refectory. What does strike you at once is the quality of everything you see; the workmanship of the restoration, the quality of the materials, the careful choices of the interior decoration. It's all extremely well done, even the loos are tiled with polished marble.

Reading the menu makes it clear that there's a chef with imagination in the kitchen. Here's a few of the starters: a butternut squash risotto with Parmesan shavings, squash foam and squash fondant; goats' cheese wontons with a red onion, beetroot and chilli compote, artichoke salad and split beans; terrine of foie gras, mango and apricot chutney, port syrup, brioche tuille and salad. The main courses are in a similar vein: seared sea bass with a crushed potato salad, fricassee of girolles, broad beans, glazed shallots and a sauce vierge or a rump of lamb with puy lentils, rosti potatoes, Viennoise crust and Provençal sauce.

Sounding good on the menu is one thing, but watching those descriptions turn into flawlessly executed reality is what really makes me happy. The first dish to arrive was an amuse bouche, a tartlette of cep mushroom Duxelle, which was really good and set the tone for the meal. To start Gill had chosen the butternut squash dish and I'd picked the gallantine of quail, which was stuffed with chicken mousse and came with galette potatoes, golden raisins and a vanilla syrup. These were also just perfect.

It's not often that Gill goes silent, but her main course of roasted cod with a citrus emulsion, served with asparagus tips, broad beans, saffron potatoes and confit tomatoes made her mute but for the odd groan of pleasure. My main course - the pork assiette - was composed of confit belly of pork and seared fillet, accompanied by buttered cabbage and an extraordinary black pudding gnocchi, which was essentially mashed potatoes and egg yolks with pieces of black pudding rolled into a five-inch length and browned in a pan. This had much the same effect me as the cod had on Gill, and this part of the meal passed in reverential silence.

After the cheese came we reflected on an extraordinary meal. The last time I had an unexpected experience like this was also with Gill, when we first ate in Mint in Ranelagh. Seriously good food made with all-encompassing passion, care in the selection of the ingredients and skill in their preparation. If the Belfry can keep up this kind of standard then it should make its way easily into the first division of Irish restaurants.

From the well-chosen and well-priced wine list we had chosen the Glazebrook Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand which was listed at €26. This, a couple of bottles of mineral water and coffees brought the bill up to €126.80. The Belfry is also open during the day, when a two-course lunch is on offer for €15.95 or a three-course one for €20.

From here it was a short drive to Mornington House, one of Hidden Ireland's gems, in Multyfarnham. Its warm welcome and gracious setting made a fine end to a memorable evening.