Maybe the (richly deserved) success of Chapter One and Pearl Brasserie at this year's Food & Wine Restaurant of the Year Awards will put paid to the absurd notion, common among Dubliners of a certain age and standing, that it's uncool to eat in basements.

There are some chefs, like Michel Bras or Juan Mari Arzak, for whom I'd descend half way to Australia.

We didn't need to go quite that far last Friday. The fair Bunting and I arranged to meet in The Waterloo which, years ago, when I was working around the corner on Herbert Place, I found a convivial watering hole, a decent, old-school pub. Now, to my chagrin, I found the place changed and changed bloody utterly. It's now 'a café bar' for godsakes, with all the glib pretensions the term implies. We fled without stopping for a drink.

Bloom Brasserie, our dining destination, is located in a basement just across the road. The premises used to house one of the branches of Ouzos which now seems to be doing the biz in Dalkey. Was it a wine bar before that? Anyhow, no matter, the room has been really nicely tricked up, with muted colours and atmospheric lighting. There's a small bar at the foot of the stairs, and it's here that we were greeted. Never ones to hang about when there's food in the offing, Bunting and I elected to go straight away to table.

She's been out on reviews with me before and knows the score: we choose different things, I get first pick, I reserve the right to try some of whatever she's eating, and we do our damndest to consume three courses apiece.

I'll admit that sometimes we almost burst in the attempt and end up sharing a dessert. It's my credo that Herald readers are entitled to a comprehensive review, and I have no time for the picky salad-and-a-skinny-latte dining companions that certain other reviewers seem to have as bosom buddies. Of my gustatory chums, Bunting is A-list. No sooner had we sat down than she was requisitioning the carpaccio of beef. I nobbled the foie gras. The carpaccio looked glorious on the white plate, a ring of beautifully-seasoned discs of Angus beef, crowned with a vibrant, crisp green salad. The only false note was struck by the heavily truffle-laced dressing; the beef was perfectly capable of speaking for itself and would have been better served by a simple anointment of good extra virgin. The foie gras, on its tranche of toast made from good bread, was pristine.

I clapped when I saw wing of ray on the menu. I cannot understand why this is not more popular; it's delicate, succulent and easy to eat, once you get the hang of scraping the flesh off the cartilage. I would never pass up ray in favour of the omnipresent farmed sea bass. The accompaniment, a scallion mash, was perfect, although I did steal a few of Bunting's potatoes which were fried in duck fat. The lady's magret of duck was an absolute picture and tasted as good as it looked. Minor quibble: my ray was slightly over-seasoned, which always tells me that either the chef is young ("season, taste and season again" was the mantra at chef school a few years ago) or smokes 60 fags a day. It was the former.

Our divergence when it came to mains led to difficulty choosing the wine. After the caring maitresse d' gave us samples from two bottles, already opened for 'by the glass' diners, we picked a red that would stand up to the duck yet not overwhelm my ray. I have no problem drinking red wine with fish providing it's not too bold or too dour. The Domaine Cros Minervois we chose from the fair-sized winelist, which contained a number of interesting off-piste offerings, was a compromise, but a satisfactory one.

Next, we shared a cheese plate. The proximity of Bloom to cheese wholesaler Matthews provided an assortment of French cheeses, all in peak condition, from which we chose a Morbier, an époisses and a soft goat cheese. Noting our keen interest, they brought us two goat cheeses, one demure, the other full-frontal. These we followed with a chocolate fondant with fresh raspberries, a raspberry coulis and an appropriately delicate milk sorbet. Picture-perfect espresso rounded things off nicely.

All-in-all a super evening and, at €123.60, fine value for money. Special plaudits to the caring staff and to chef Pól O'hEannraich (ex-Dax) who took on board our trivial criticisms with aplomb.

Rating:

Verdict: Bloom could well prove to be the pick of Dublin's 'bistrocracy' when the modish smoke clears.

Bloom Brasserie, Upper Baggot Street, Dublin 4 Tel: 01 668 7170

scoop@dna.com

- Ernie Whalley