Every now and then I get pinned down at a party and asked a question that ought to be easily answered: 'What's your favourite restaurant?' I mean, it ought to be a doddle; there ought to be a restaurant somewhere that's my favourite without any ifs or buts. And yet it's a question I have no answer for. My favourite restaurant depends on my mood, who I'm with, whether I'm hungry or not, what sort of food I want, how much money I have to spend - all these factors play a part in the choice. But when I think about all the restaurants that I really like, here in Ireland and elsewhere on the planet, there is a common thread other than good food. There's an owner out front or a chef proprietor in the kitchen.

There's an old adage in my part of Italy: 'l'occhio del padrone ingrasso il cavallo' - an owner's beady eye keeps the horse in condition. It's true of restaurants as well as horses; someone with an interest makes sure everything works as well as it can. And when I think about the converse it only confirms this suspicion. Some of the worse meals I've had is when the owners weren't present. That's not to say you can't eat well without an onsite owner, only that it's less likely.

I'd arranged to go to dinner with Isobel Smith, an artist's agent and owner of Gallery 22, who I was shamelessly schmoozing on behalf of my budding artist son. As I often do, I said 'you pick the restaurant - the only proviso is that it has to be somewhere I haven't reviewed in the past couple of years.' A while later she called me back and said, 'I know exactly the place; the Indian restaurant on Merrion Row.' It says something for my total lack of observational powers that I've walked along and driven by Merrion Row a thousand times, but I've never noticed an Indian restaurant. Still, she assured me there was one, and what's more, said it was where she wanted to go. We met up in the Horseshoe and then ran through the rain, brollyless, to Saffron 2000, which was exactly where she said it was and exactly where my eye had never fallen.

Inside it's small and cosy, plenty of Indian artefacts to theme it, a bar counter at the far end and tables lining the two sides. But back to my opening paragraph: the moment we walked in we were greeted warmly and shown to our table, our wet coats taken, menus produced and drinks instantly offered. I discovered later that it was a husband and wife team who run Saffron 2000, which once again confirmed my prejudice that there's no substitute for having the most interested party present to ensure a restaurant's success.

The menu and wine list come in the same folder and the short wine list section is not for wine-lovers. I can't think when I last saw Liebfraumilch and Mateus Rose listed, but here they were. I'm not a wine snob; I'd drink these wines if there was nothing else, but from preference I wouldn't. If this had been a longer list it would have been easier to find something that I liked. I was looking through the short list again in the hope that I might have missed something when our host came over to us. 'I have another wine that's not on the list that you might like - a Chilean Andes Peak Cabernet Sauvignon.' Perfect: just what we wanted - a decent wine for £14.95 and yet another example of the value of having an owner on hand.

The menu is long and there's a big range of dishes to choose from. Nearly all the starters are priced between £3.50 and £4.50 and include classics like onion bhajees, lentil soup, tandoori sheesh kebab, as well as Kachuri, which are pastry parcels filled with spinach, cashews and coconuts and are a house speciality. There's a large section of tandoori; chicken dishes like tikka and bhuna; lamb dishes like rogan gosht, lamb Madras and curried lamb; eleven vegetable specialities including aloo gobi, aloo sag and dahl taka, and for those who aren't feeling adventurous there are a few European dishes as well. In the end we chose far more food than we could eat, mainly because the portions are generous. To start we had the a marinated chicken Shashlick and the house speciality of Kachuri, then we ordered fried rice, Pilau rice, a taste of aloo sag, a chicken Bhindi, lamb Rogan and a dahl taka. Although we'd worked our way through a large basket of poppadoms before ordering, I couldn't resist ordering the Naan bread as well. The poppadoms came with three ramekins, one with a yoghurt dip, one with a spicy dip and one with spicy chopped onions.

I liked both of our choices of starters, but the marinated chicken was a real star - tender and well-cooked, the mix of flavours was extraordinary. I also rather like the pick'n'mix table where the main courses arrive on heated flats and you can taste a bit of everything without disturbing anyone else's plate. After the starters neither of had a raging appetite any more, but we tasted it all, slowing up to almost a standstill before much more than half of the food was eaten. It was a pity, there was enough left to have fed another person. Still, I got enough tastes of different dishes to get a representative sample of the menu and I enjoyed every part of what I had. Everything I ate had that unmistakable freshly cooked taste and throughout the meal we were thoughtfully and attentively served.

A trip to the loo elicited an interesting discovery. The walls are covered with diplomas of excellence awarded to our hostess for her sculptures in sugar. Unfortunately no examples of her delicate work are in the restaurant, but the number of awards is impressive. Back at the table, despite having eaten ourselves almost to a standstill, we were persuaded to try the home made dessert, like an ice-cream, which came in three flavours, yoghurt, mint and chocolate, of which the chocolate was sensational.

We finished with a couple of coffees and sipped the rest of our wine. A good meal, in pleasant surroundings at a very moderate price - less than £60. I'm still puzzled as to why I never spotted Saffron 2000 before, but I'm glad that Isobel introduced me to it.