Another year is approaching its end and it seems as good a time as any for a little reflection on the last twelve months of dining. As the old Irish adage goes, 'bread that's eaten is soon forgotten' - most of those meals have gone into that particular black hole that is the remnant of my memory. If I don't have my archive in front of me I can remember only a few, which leads me to suspect that they were the really good ones. The bulk, the majority, were perfectly agreeable meals that neither offended nor stimulated, they were simply eaten and forgotten. Surprisingly only a couple really failed to please. This could be because standards are rising, and it could also be because I tend to avoid anywhere that I've heard bad reports of. After all, it's a night out for me too, and I'd rather spend it somewhere pleasing than somewhere disagreeable.

There's another point which needs occasional reiteration and it's this: a restaurant review is like a snap-shot of just one meal in a restaurant's life. There's no way of knowing how representative it is. It could be the best, or the worst meal, that's left the kitchen in the restaurant's entire life. This is partly why I'm slow to draw damning conclusions. The other reason is perhaps more personal; having owned and run restaurants for many years I know exactly how hard it is and how many things can go unintentionally wrong. But that said, it's none the less true that the very good and the very bad are easy to spot. Restaurant reviewers tend to agree most at the extremes; the differences tend to occur in the amorphous space in between, when a small change can make the difference between acceptable and not.

Which is why, whenever I've criticised a restaurant harshly, it's been for those things that are easily within the control of the management - things like greedy mark-ups on mineral water; tiny tables or tables crushed together; under-staffing and bad service; over-priced food or using second-rate ingredients. All of these things are different manifestations of greed - a desire to take from the customer as much as possible while giving as little as possible in return. The kind of pricing policy that makes vegetables and bread extras fits the pattern, as does adding a service charge and then leaving a box open on your credit card slip for a tip. Probably my single most common gripe is overpriced wine lists. I'm happy enough to pay the norm of a 100% mark up, after all I'm getting a table, glasses and service. But more than that is hard to justify - I've yet to get a response from a restaurateur explaining why their mark up is 200% or more. When exposed they simply keep their heads down and hope that you'll forget.

To end this year's dining out I went to a new Italian restaurant in Sandycove called 'Toscana'. My guest was my friend Gay Brabazon, and the last time we'd reviewed a restaurant together I'd made her go with me on the Dart from Bray to Howth and back again. This time I relented and chauffeured her instead. Apart from having a fine view across the Bay, Toscana is fortunate enough to have the public car park just across the street from it, making it a doddle to park before eating there.

It's on two storeys, the downstairs has a counter and tables, but all the people were upstairs. Inside it looks brand, spanking new with handsome black marble topped tables and simple, black padded chairs. The lighting is welcoming and well adjusted; enough to read a menu easily, but kind to faces and there are big windows that emphasise its view. We were shown directly upstairs to our table, which was in the centre of the room flanked by a Yucca plant. A wooden floor ensures that the decibel level is very high and the room was filled almost to capacity with people noisily enjoying themselves. The tables are fairly small and close together, but despite this I never did get to overhear the conversation at the next table, even though they were very close.

All this gives 'Toscana' a real trattoria feel. While Gay and I were there, people arrived, ate a plateful or two and then left. When you pick up the menu you can see why; everything here, from the food to the wine is very reasonably priced. There are house wines at £10.50 a bottle, starters are mostly less than £4 and you can have a main course for under £10. Through the general hubbub I could make out the songs of Gianni Morandi and Bobby Solo on the sound system, bringing back memories of teenage summers spent on the lido at San Felice Circeo. I even sang along to 'Sapore di Sale,' to serenade Gay.

She started her meal with prawns, which came with a spicy tomato sauce to dip them into. I had the suppli, rice croquettes stuffed with mozzarella which in Italy are often called 'al telefono', because the mozzarella strings like telephone wires. Mine didn't, either because there wasn't enough mozzarella, or it wasn't the right kind. Still, we were both happy enough with our choices. For main courses Gay had picked the chicken Milanese, described on the menu as crumbed and stuffed with ham and cheese, rather like a cordon bleu. It tasted nice too, but somehow we'd both imagined this as a crispy dish, rather than a moist one. I'd chosen the veal escalopes Sienese, which were pleasant but unremarkable.

We finished with two excellent desserts, a fruit sorbet and profiteroles, and then a couple of espressos. With a bottle of Wolf Blass Shiraz at £15.25 the bill came to £58.30 not including service. By Dublin standards that's not expensive, which is probably why Toscana was so full. Not the best Italian food I've eaten, but good service and a lively atmosphere made for a fun evening.