It may be the place itself, a comfortable, classy basement that makes the reality of surface life seem distant and vaguely uninteresting. Or maybe it's the clientele, throwing caution to the wind and ordering another bottle of wine as they remember their youth when they were radical and impetuous, doing mad things like eating in restaurants on the northside. Imagine.

Gardiner Street is just over there.

Their whole pre-theatre thing is a clever piece of marketing. The implication is that your early arrival can only mean that you have tickets for a play because that's the kind of sophisticated cultural animal you are. Not, God forbid, just someone here for the tastefully lowered prices.

It was busy when we arrived for a nine o'clock booking. We were brought to a table under an exposed stone wall. Very quietly and without anybody being asked, a cushion was given to the pregnant member of our party. Nice touch. The menu is to the point. Tells you what's in the dishes, which is not quite the same as telling you what you're going to get. Open langoustine ravioli had lovely fat Dublin bay prawns on a silky pasta base, the smoky earthiness of aubergine and the sweet sharpness of tomato and basil. Poached scallops had their delicate milkiness cut by the zest of a citrus perfumed sauce. Sauteed foie gras picked up spicy sweetness from a Madeira jus, some freshness from an apple salad and a lingering sharpness from fig vinegar that we thought too bitter. An order from the charcuterie trolley brought a set plate of terrines, pates and a pudding. We didn't actually see the trolley at any stage though we were left with the impression that we had been in its company. A neat trick. Game terrine with celeriac remoulade and a ballotine of foie gras and pigeon were the brightest stars of a selection that demonstrated the real quality of the ingredients involved.

Slow roast lamb shoulder came with an upmarket cassoulet, swede puree and mint sauce, a comforting wintry dish that came together very nicely. Duck was served two ways, a little portion of duck pie being the happier, its rich gamey flavours accentuated by an almost fruity green peppercorn jus. Cod with prawn mousse and clams, tomato and roast pepper was delicately cooked and seasoned. A daily special of roast suckling pig stuffed with a chicken mousse was tender and almost sweet, nicely paired with white turnip in a sticky jus. We drank a clean citrusy Sancerre with the starters and, following helpful advice from the sommelier, a Cotes du Rhone Villages (Cairanne) from Domaine de l'Oratoire St Martin, spicy and nicely balanced.

Delicate slippery lemon creme caramel was surprisingly well offset by a fresh not too sugary mango sorbet. Three flavours of creme brulee came as one portion.

Vanilla and cinnamon were spot on, the spices subtly flavouring the custard, where the coffee version seemed to overpower it.

Four cheeses were chosen from a good selection and were served at room temperature with very nice biscuits and chutney.

It wasn't absolutely flawless. The white wine we'd ordered didn't arrive until after the starters were on the table and the coffee took a long time to come after dessert, more than 20 minutes. But both these incidents were handled very well and quickly remedied. It was a busy night for them but not for us. Climbing the stairs to Parnell Square was as hard as it got for us that night, and that in no way diminished our enjoyment of what was a very impressive meal in a comfortable, relaxed atmosphere.