Telephone: 01242 222200
Address: Clarence Parade, Cheltenham, Gloucestershire
Rating: 16/20

The other day, I was walking through my local town when a chap dashed up to me and said, "You should try Lumière in Cheltenham. We went there the other night and had a really good dinner." And then he vanished. I checked the Good Food Guide and the AA Restaurant Guide and Harden's guide to UK restaurants. Nothing. There was a cryptic note in Michelin, and that was it. Could it be that all the inspectors for these admirable publications have missed out on a gem? Well, yes, it seems that they could.

Mr and Mrs Frobisher, my daughter and I sailed into Lumière one evening. It's a small place, not more than 40 covers, I'd guess, and toned up in soothing shades (as opposed to colours) of cream and mushroom. It's all quite suave, but not damagingly chic. And the welcome from Mrs Chapman, co-prop with her husband, Mr Chapman, was warm and charming and downright cheering.

The Chapmans are Canadian, but they have spent a good many years over here. This might account for a menu that, you might say, covers the waterfront, in terms of inspiration and technique. The daughter started on a Thai-style soup with a large chunk of roasted salmon in it. Mrs Frobisher had foie gras wrapped in Parma ham with herbed potatoes, balsamic vinegar and quince jelly. Mr Frobisher had red mullet fillet on saffron risotto with watercress oil and crisp carrot, while I had warm salad of boned grilled quail with cider herb dressing.

While I'm at it, I might as well deal with the main courses, too. Two of us had chargrilled springbok fillet with thyme-roasted mushrooms and truffle-scented sauce. Mrs F had roasted sea bass with sweet chilli tiger prawns and lightly curried coriander rice, and the daughter had braised breast of poulet noir with a red wine sauce infused with foie gras.

Looking at, and indeed eating that lot, two things, at least, are clear. One, Mr Chapman is fond of herbs. There was hardly a dish on the menu, including the puddings, that didn't have a herb of some description worked into it. Two, that he is not one to steer clear of big, strong flavours. Neither of these is easy to handle. Herbs in excess have a habit of throwing a dish out of kilter. One strong flavour can flatten everything else on the plate, making the food monochrome in effect. But Mr Chapman lets neither of these things happen. For the most part, he keeps things admirably in balance, so that you can taste the range of the ingredients.

The foie gras wrapped in Parma ham was a star dish. There was a lot going on in it - unctuous liver, salty ham, sweet quince, sweet/sour vinegar - and it could have been an unholy muddle. But it wasn't. It was salty, sweet, sour by turns, andunctuous all the way through.

The chargrilled springbok fillet, not an ingredient you come across every day, was another case in point. The meat had a coarser grain than beef or even venison, but it had been prepared to a remarkable tenderness. Its delicate gaminess came through the robust sauce and the even more robust roasted mushrooms. I was aware of the parts, but was pleased by the sum.

Mrs Frobisher made a lyrical case for the sea bass, too. It had, she said, that refined flakiness of a very fresh fish very well cooked, and its flavour was framed by the restrained spice and herb elements. Meanwhile, the daughter demolished everything that came in her path with a relish that she hasn't always shown in the past.

And so we came to puddings, lemon herb and maple yoghurt sorbets for the daughter, pecan tartlet with bourbon ice cream for Mr Frobisher, pure dark chocolate torte and raspberry chocolate sorbet for Mrs F, and "one perfect cheese" for me. That was how it was described in the menu. How sensible, I thought. Better one good anything than a multitude of imperfect everythings. And it was perfect, a dollop of creamy Gorgonzola, with just the right amount of rustic blueing. And the puds were fine, too, although the daughter was not convinced that maple yoghurt sorbet was the best idea in the world - "It tastes like off milk," she said.

Dinner - there is no lunch - is set at £30 for three courses. We managed to rack up a bill of £204.75. It was swollen by three glasses of champagne, a brace of lemonades and lime, a bottle of delicious Pinot Grigio and another of Synthesi, a full-throated red from southern Italy, from a very respectably priced wine list which was as interesting as it was idiosyncratic. So, £50 a head, give or take pence. It occurs to me that there is not much differential between restaurant bills in London and outside it these days.

· Open Mon-Sat, 7pm-10.30pm. Menu: £30 for 3 courses. Wheelchair access (no WC).