It was, I think, the sunniest day of the year so far. An uninterrupted blue filled the sky and the air was verging on the balmy. I was thinking about working outside when the phone rang. It was Chris-the-brother-in-law. 'Doing anything special today?' he asked. 'Not really, why?' 'Fancy a game of golf and then a bite to eat?' 'Yeah, sounds good.' We arranged to meet in Enniskerry at two, and when I got there I remembered to ask the obvious question. 'What course are we playing?' 'Galway Bay,' said Chris.

I'm not going to show off and tell you how we got there, but fifty minutes later we were landing alongside the club house of the Galway Bay Golf Club. Now that's got to be the way to travel. Obviously I forgot to bring a camera, so I've no pictorial record of the journey, but I do remember just how many vast Bord na Mona bogs there are all across the midlands. I'm a very infrequent and a very bad golfer, but this was a beautiful day, a beautiful course and Chris had organised me a set of good clubs. With all this going for me I managed what I think is my best score ever of 51 for nine holes. We weren't too strict with the scoring - lost balls counting as a nuisance only - but even so my dream of a round of golf in under 100 still eludes me.

It's amazing how an appetite can build up in the brisk Atlantic air, so on finishing we made a brief detour to Clarinbridge to eat oysters in Morans of the Weir. You could call all that golfing 'swinging for your supper'. I showed Chris my calendar which includes the months Mayr, Jurne, Jurly and Augurst, which allows you to eat oysters twelve months of year. A half dozen rock oysters each with a pint of plain left us feeling just fine, so we went back to the Hotel Quality in Oranmore where we were staying, to freshen up before our evening meal. It was Paul, our driver, who suggested Ronnie's Bistro, a newly opened eaterie in Oranmore's mainstreet.

There were four of us for dinner; Chris Andrews who works with Chris, Pilot John, Chris and me - a real lads' night out. We are all members of an informal and occasional dining club called the 'Eurodiners' who travel around Europe dining whenever possible at the expense of a promoter. We even have a motto: 'One for all and all for free', which pretty much encapsulates the ethos. Once inside Ronnie's we were shown to a cosy little corner table near the window. All the tables in Ronnie's are divided from one another by planters which have fairly realistic plastic plants in them, giving a lot of privacy. They also ensured that I could only see the faces of the three lads at our table and not the table of beautiful young women that Chris kept assuring me was at the other end of the restaurant and that only he could see. I still don't believe him.

Ronnie's is a bistro by name and a bistro by menu. It's a big menu, that's to say it comes on a very big piece of card, and the starters are all reasonably priced ranging from £2.50 to £5.50. There's a vol au vent of seafood, chef's seafood salad, deep fried mushrooms with garlic mayonnaise, and summer salad of walnuts and prawns. For main courses there's the bistro steak - a t-bone that weighs in at fourteen ounces - tournedos of fillet, beef strogonov, roast rack of lamb all betweeen £12 and £14, there's three chicken dishes at £8.95 and there's fish like salmon, monkfish and catch of the day. Two pastas at £9 and a couple of vegetarian dishes at £7.95 give you the sort of idea of what's on offer. All good, simple dishes that are very much main stream cuisine.

Chris took charge of the wine list, and like the menu, it's a proof-reader's bad dream, full of mis-prints and some real jewels of description. Chateau Coucheroy from the Graves is described as having 'the unmistakeable flavour and bouquet of the Graves region' - as well it might. It is also very fairly priced and has wines from most of the wine-producing countries to choose from. Chris chose the fine Spanish Navarre wine, Ochoa 1994, as our red and a white Chenin Blanc from Argentina called Balbi, which was new to me and rather nice.

Our starters were good and very generous - that modern affectation of tiny portions has not infected Ronnie's. Two large pasta salads, one big plate of deep fried mushrooms and a seafood vol au vent came to the table. My vol au vent, which was not a small, dainty pastry shell filled with a hint of seafood, was rather a plateful of all kinds of fruits de mer with two blind pastry cases hidden beneath a mound of crab claws, clams, mussels and scallops.

This generosity continued with our main courses. Chris had chosen the tournedos and three large rounds of fillet steak appeared on his plate. Pilot John and other Chris both had fish - salmon and monkfish, while I chose the bistro steak. This was a piece of meat that very nearly covered the plate, about half an inch thick and cooked exactly as I like it, almost raw. Less Gargantuan appetites might have blanched at the sight of it, but I was not to be put off. Chris had only just begun his second tournedo when he looked at my plate in awe. 'Where's it gone?' he asked in surprise. All that was left was a solitary bone. Yes, it was a fine piece of red meat.

Only two of us had desserts, the ice-cream wrapped in pancakes which I tasted and liked. Well-made, thin crepes and a good ice-cream inside. It was around then that we were introduced to one of the two French chefs, a charming young man from Brittany, who had made the fine crepes that we'd just enjoyed. I finished off the meal with something called an 'expresso' which tasted quite unlike anything I've ever had in a coffee cup before. Not unpleasant, but not even remotely resembling an espresso. In a curious sort of way, I'd quite like to know what it was. Anyway, the bill came to just over £100, which really is inexpensive these days.

Back to the Hotel Quality for a last one before bed, and then an early rise for Chris to see off some young people who were walking donkeys to Manchester in aid of charity. Feeling still rather full, I wished them well.