I'm going to have a whinge about restaurant prices this week. I'm sometimes asked how much you need to spend for a good meal. It all depends, of course, on what you mean by a good meal, but let's just say this: a well-made dinner in comfortable surroundings is going to cost you on average about £50. Add a bottle of wine, some mineral water, a coffee or two and £70 is easily reached. Let's be clear, when I say 'dinner' I mean a starter, a main course with some vegetables and then a dessert. If you pay more than £70 for two then you should be getting something exceptional - either wonderful food, brilliant service or a beautiful room to dine in. Or better still, all of three.

Restaurant prices are rising relentlessly, high mark ups on wine lists are becoming so common that I'm beginning to think they're the norm not the exception. You don't need to be an economist to know that more money in the economy chasing the same number of restaurant tables means that prices rise. If you get the chance to eat outside this country at all, you'll be struck by how cheaply you can eat in restaurants elsewhere. In my village in Italy £10 buys you a four-course dinner in the local trattoria, and that includes wine. Alright, the ambience leaves a little to be desired, but the fact is you can eat out in the 'American Bar' almost as cheaply as eating at home. A £10 meal is by no means the average, it's well below, but that's the point I'm making, you can find cheap and good restaurants as well as expensive and good.

There seems to be a void in this area of the market in Ireland. It's almost impossible to find a restaurant where you can eat well and cheaply. I've handed over up to £80 for some pretty mediocre fare, and in case you were wondering, I pay for it, not the Independent. As a consequence I'm as price sensitive as anyone - expensive meals means I get less take-home pay. So with that off my chest, you can see why I'm pleased when I find a restaurant whose food I enjoy and whose prices are reasonable.

Which brings me to 'The Old Mill' in Temple Bar, into which I ran sheltering from torrential rain, entirely by accident. It happened like this. I'd gone to meet my guest, Martina Devlin, near the Independent offices in Abbey Street. I don't need to describe her to you; her photograph is above her column at the front of this magazine, just underneath Peter Cunningham's. I wanted to talk to her about her new book 'Three Wise Men' and how do you get major international publishing houses like Harper Collins to publish them. So we were walking to Temple Bar over the new Millennium bridge in a mild drizzle (who on earth had the bright idea of putting carpet that squelches when wet on the bridge?) chatting about books and bookery when it began to rain in earnest. We scurried past a few places that looked too full or unappealing when Martina stopped in a doorway as I struggled with a broken umbrella. 'What about here?' she asked. Sure enough, stairs led upwards to the aforementioned Old Mill. We got a table and shook off the rain.

Something about the d‚cor reminded me of small provincial French restaurants, where nine times out of ten you eat very well and very reasonably. Nothing memorable, just comfortable and pleasing.

The wine list isn't very long, but it's fairly priced. It begins with two house wines at £12.50 and lists some good clarets, as far as I could see one from every parish, mostly in the £50-£70 range including one Grand Cru, the Chateau Malescot St. Exupery '94. Some Burgundies and Rhones, then the Spanish Crianza, the Caliterra from Chile, a provencal rose, then whites from across France, a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc, the Fleur de Cap Chardonnay from RSA, a Gewurtraminer, a Sancerre, some Champagnes and a Muscat de Beaumes de Venise. I settled on the Chilean Caliterra, which came at £15.50.

Before we began to look at the menus our waiter brought over a small blackboard and went through the day's specials. A few caught my interest; sea bass, monkfish, lambs' kidneys and avocados stuffed with shrimp. Keeping these in mind we turned to the menu. All the starters are in the £5 range and include fish soup, crispy bacon salad, salad nicoise, hot goats' cheese, grilled fresh sardines, coquilles Saint Jacques, cannelloni farcis, moules persillade, salmon stuffed with shrimp, fried calamari, half dozen oysters and chicken wings. Martina is a vegetarian and doesn't eat fish, so she confined herself to the vegetarian corner which listed three dishes; mushrooms a la grecque, leek and lentils gratin, tagliatelle with mushrooms fresh spinach and blue cheese all priced at £7.50. She asked if she could have mushrooms a la grecque as a starter and the leek and lentils as a main course, which our waiter said was no problem. There was fish on offer apart from the specials; fresh sole, swordfish with olive oil and fruits de mer. Then for meats there was breast of Barbary duck, a brace of marinated quail, strips of chicken breast and brochettes of beef fillet all priced around £12 - £13. Side orders were priced at £2.50. I decided on the sardines to start and the quail for my main course.

Starters were good; Martina's mushrooms were tasty, and my sardines - although stronger tasting than I would have liked - were big and well cooked. Martina's main course of leeks and lentils gratin was fine; exactly as plain as the menu description, leeks and lentils with a cheese topping. My brace of quail were excellent, cooked perfectly a point and left me feeling happy. We had a sabayon between us for pudding, which was good. All in all I thought we'd eaten rather well in The Old Mill, although we never did find out how it got its name. However, I found out a bit about 'Three Wise Men', but all I'll tell you is that that the three wise men are girls. 'Nuf said.

The bill came to £58.95, which for the quality of what we'd eaten seemed like good value to me, especially in the wake of some very expensive meals recently. It proved to me, at least, that good food can be found in the city of Dublin without having to spend a fortune. You just have to know where to look.