Le Metro Café & Brasserie, Halifax

I have special dispensation to say this because it's my home town. But the textile industry gave Halifax some magnificent architecture, and the newly facelifted Georgian Somerset House is perhaps the grandest example. It's the location for an all-dancing, all-singing brasserie which will put a smile on your face as well as a good dinner in your stomach.

Built in 1766 for merchant banker John Royd, Somerset House was designed by Wakefield architect John Carr, probably most famous for his work on Harewood House. On his return from the Grand Tour, Royd commissioned the York-based Italian Rococo artist, Guiseppe Cortese, to decorate the ceilings Tuscan-style, and the beautiful, intricate stucco carvings have survived.

For decades, the tired faade lurked behind a row of tatty shops; if you looked up (who looks up?) you could catch a tantalising glimpse of something historic and grand rising above them. It all seemed a bit hopeless, what with the windows falling out and no cash in the coffers to give it the makeover it deserved.

Then up jumped the Halifax Civic Trust, and together with local entrepreneur Chris Turczak, renovation began in 1998. With a number of "leisure" ventures under his belt, including Flashmans,

Ma Baker's and the legendary Acapulco nightclub (only in Halifax...) Turczak's latest vision came to fruition last November when the newly licensed stucco-ceilinged Grand Salon opened for wedding business, while on the ground floor Le Metro's much anticipated opening took place with no small fanfare.

As you push open the floor-to-ceiling glass doors and pass the seven-foot bronze statues of deco girls in varying degrees of undress, the low, background rumble you hear as you enter is John Royd revolving in his grave. A gaudy, ersatz-French tribute to continental kitsch, it's all black and orange tiles, leopard print banquettes and faux-deco posters hung so tightly together, it's impossible to know what colour the walls are.

It's a bold, blowsy affair with bells, whistles and then some more bells. The floor is black marble. The huge opaque glass wall lights are direct lifts from someone's wild vision of what the inside of the Moulin Rouge might have looked like in the 1920s. Gallic balladeers warble predictably and too loudly.

But – and it's a big but – service is exemplary, cheerful and efficient without being irritating and local. From the open kitchen, keen young chefs send out well-executed, quintessentially French rustic dishes; fritots de camembert, rillettes de porc, cassoulet and charcuterie. Flavours are deep, robust and satisfying.

Delamaine moules with tomato, chilli and lemon had me unapologetically slurping the broth at the end. Scallops with merguez sausage was another moreish and gutsy dish. I'm not sure how they do it for the money, but we counted 15 scallops.

We had to stop ourselves from alerting Joe, our wise (of more later) waiter, to tell him we'd mistakenly got a main course instead of a starter.

Steak frites was perfectly cooked and arrived with nothing but a green salad, just as it should, while two of the fattest chunks of flawless sea bass I've seen this century for under a tenner arrived on top of creamy, perfectly judged pea risotto laced with wild mushrooms.

It's as if they're off-setting the fussy dcor by serving up classically simple food.

An early-bird menu includes two courses for 20 and free wine. I know! We should shudder in fear for our livers – but free wine! And it's good stuff, a very respectable McGuigan Black Label Sauvignon (only 11.30 a bottle if you arrive after seven in the evening). And it just keeps coming.

The only wrong note of the evening was a couple of underdone prawns; once pointed out, the plate was whisked away and removed from the bill without quibble. Nice work, Joe.

A plate of Yorkshire and French cheeses with walnut bread and those delicious little square black water biscuits completed the spirit of dtente.

They're open all day; breakfast is served from 11am and an innovative egg menu stretches till 4pm. There's nothing subtle about any of it. The dcor, the music, the menu – it's pure Panavision with glorious Technicolor wrapped up in Surround Sound, and all the better for it.

As an antidote to the hushed temples of gastro-worship (which have their place, of course) it's perfect.

So, huge fun, good food, great value. What's not to like? And on a good day with your eyes shut, you might mistake Halifax for Honfleur. On a good day.

Le Metro Caf & Brasserie, Halifax, Somerset House, Royds Mansion, Rawson Street, Halifax HX1 1HA. Tel 01422 300175; www.lemetrohalifax.co.uk

YP MAG 12/6/10