Why is it that Northern Ireland's seaside towns have been among the last to join the culinary dash for quality seen inland?

Apart from the Ramore in Portrush or the Seasalt in Newcastle, can anyone tell me about any restaurant memorable for its food rather than the sea view?

It must be to do with traditional holiday values. When we used to go to Portrush — or Newcastle for that matter — two decades ago, it was chips from the chippy or funereal carveries in a hotel. There were never any decent restaurants like there were inland. Belfast had the Skandia, Armagh had the Rainbow Cafe and Enniskillen had Frank's, all well known for their cheerful atmospheres, well-priced and reliable staples of fries, pizzas and steaks. There was none of these once you ventured to the seaside.

And this was particularly the case for Bangor. Despite the town's pretensions to greater things (I swear some of the residents of Bangor still believe they have recreated the charms of a Sussex coast town), the hotel carveries and take-aways ruled.

But fast forward to Bangor's seafront near Pickie Fun Pool, within eyeshot of Brian Meharg's quirky boat-trips jetty, and step into the Victorian town house painted bright blue and which is home to Jeffers by the Marina.

Bright but not brash, Jeffers is a cheerful-looking place all right. Small and modern on the inside, its cosiness and high-backed banquettes promise comfort and sanctuary from the blustery, briney breeze outside.

A peek behind the bar into the exposed kitchen tells you something else as well — here are cooks proud to do their stuff in full view — which I always find reassuring as well as entertaining.

Jeffers by the Marina may be informal and the short menu accessible to even the youngest in the family, but the quality of what was being delivered to diners around us before we had ordered was plain to see. Ulster fries served in large flat white bowls looked like a cartoon version where the food is bright, juicy and always appetising.

Waiters and waitresses quietly and swiftly flew around the 14 or so tables carrying dishes of sea bream and venison in generous portions, steaming and beautifully presented on various beds of mash or crushed peas.

For those of you who cannot resist a fry, by the way, the Jeffers big breakfast includes baked free-range eggs, back bacon, sausage, soda bread, potato bread, breakfast mushroom and tomato. In Ulster parlance, that's a seven-piecer and no messing. And because it's Bangor-North-Down, Jeffers also offers a continental breakfast of freshly squeezed orange, fresh fruit, cinnamon French toast, pancakes and maple syrup. Those two alone are enough to justify a permanent move to Bangor.

It was 2pm on a Sunday when we went in for a late lunch and the breakfasts were still coming out of the kitchen. That's the other big attraction. Jeffers is open every day except Monday from 10 in the morning and from 11 on a Sunday, so you can drag on after breakfast, do lunch and if you've just lost your job in the financial sector, stick around and spend your redundancy on dinner too.

The children's menu included chicken sticks, which turned out to be succulent pieces of white breast meat on little skewers served with a pot of thick golden and crispy chips and a side salad the likes of which you won't see this side of Deane's.

You see a lot of risotto on menus these days but when it's a risotto of Irish crab it's time to celebrate. You'd think this risotto, creamy and warm with rich cheesiness and delightful fresh peas, would be too powerful for subtle crab flavours but they were there loud and clear. The risotto was so good I found myself slowing down to make it last as long as possible.

Meanwhile, the salt and pepper squid had brought a wide smile to my wife, who had never been back to Bangor since the Back Street Cafe had closed down 15 years ago. The tender squid pieces coated in the lightest possible dusting of salt and pepper came with a little pot of chilli sauce and coriander-flavoured oil. The coriander was a bit of a shoulder shrug but the chilli sauce defied the norm. No gloopy sweetness here. This was a thin and spicy little sauce perfectly matched to the subtle taste and texture of the squid.

While the small princess worked her way through the chicken sticks, the five-hour cooked beef and crisp sea bream (that's what they're called in the menu) arrived almost without us noticing. Effortless and friendly, the floor staff were as busy as they were self-effacing. Many restaurants serve sea bream because it's easy enough to get a hold of as it's widely farmed. The two fillets that appeared on a bed of crushed peas and oregano were large and therefore possibly not farmed at all and while they were indeed crispy to the touch, they were also moist and firm on the inside.

The five-hour beef was a triumph. Lying on its bed of parsnip and port jus, this was the dish that had my wife reaching for the estate agent's catalogue. Falling into tender little strips under the knife, the beef blended into the mash and port gravy providing unctuous pleasure and unparalleled depth of flavour.

We might have stopped at this stage but who could resist Armagh apple trifle or Dundonald Farm ice cream? Not me. Served with sable biscuits that tasted like super-fine shortbread, the apple trifle lived up to expectations. Cool custard on top with filings of nuts, a layer of cold Bramleys underneath and at the bottom, a treasure of blackberries.

This was quite fabulous and almost overshadowed the Dundonald Farm ice cream. The intensity of taste might have been more powerful but this was very good ice cream.

The now sated princess was offered a Coke float for dessert. Coke floats were the highlight of our summer and I thought they had disappeared for ever. She loved it.

Now that Jeffers by the Marina has made it safe to go to the seaside you'd be missing out if you didn't.