Someone, somewhere, will accuse me of being a culinary heathen for this — and had I known I was wandering into one of a chain of 80+ restaurants expecting a decent meal, the admonishment would probably have been to myself in the mirror — but a visit to Côte in Chiswick on Tuesday night, following the aroma of tomatoes and garlic, proved a surprising find indeed.

I’ve blundered badly in the past by choosing to eat at places exuding enticing aromas — a visit to a pizza joint in Victor Harbor in South Australia many years ago is a particularly vivid example that sticks in my mind, even now — but always a sucker for French food, the smells emanating from Côte as I walked to Turnham Green train station the other day were irresistibly persuasive, and I determined to return for dinner that evening.

The concept of chain restaurants offering a decent meal sits awkwardly with me at the best of times, however; and the previous evening — soon after arriving in the UK — I had a deeply unsatisfactory experience at nearby Franco Manca on the Chiswick High Road, which I’ve since learned is yet another multi-site operation, and had I been aware of this I might not have ventured into Côte at all.

In any event, such concerns would have proven unfounded.

I started with French Onion Soup (£6.50) which reliably upheld the tradition of this fine starter; while it could have been served hotter (and the molten Gruyere was so stringy it needed to be twirled like spaghetti to avoid embarrassment), it was fresh, vibrant and delicious, with croutons that retained an element of crunch despite their immersion in the soup.

What followed was a revelation: Breton Stew (£15.75), a tomato-y, onion-y, garlicky bowl of oceanic goodness; packed with prawns, squid rings, a delicate fillet of sea bass and a dozen little mussels in a thick tomato broth which offered the faintest hint of chilli warmth, this was one of those dishes one rues eating the final mouthful of.

Dessert came in the form of a Tarte Au Citron (£6.75) — something I am rarely able to resist ordering whenever it appears on a menu — which was rich, crisp and sharply lemony, served with a “blueberry salad” (in truth, a little cluster of blueberries atop the tart), a layer of brûléed sugar that was perfectly caramelised just to the point further heat would have turned it acrid, and a generous dollop of vanilla crème fraîche.

Two beers — a French lager called Meteor (£4.75 apiece), which goes on my must-find list for when I return to Australia — rounded out the meal. The service was pleasant, professional, and adequately attentive.

If there’s one criticism I’d make, it’s that portion sizes could have been slightly larger, although I know from past experience this is quite a common observation to make about dining out in Britain.

Still, for a grand total of £42.35 ($A71.80 at today’s rates) — including the ubiquitous 10% “service charge” — this was a good meal at a very reasonable price, and not least when it’s remembered the same three courses in Melbourne would almost certainly have cost as much as 50% more. The beers alone would have left little change from $30 in an Australian restaurant.

And in doing a little reading on Côte after my visit, it came as no surprise at all to discover well-known food critic Jay Rayner — a tough marker if ever there was one — has given rave reviews to the company’s offer to market.

Should Côte ever decide to open restaurants in Melbourne, I’ll enthusiastically spruik its merits. This was a dining choice to some extent inadvertently made, but well worth it.