Perhaps it was the post-Yule come-down, that general depletion of seratonin resulting from excess intake, a feeling that could be described simply as 'partied out', that had left the city streets almost devoid of people and cars. Or maybe it was europhobia, that fear of long queues of people waiting to change their obsolescent punts into sparkling new and still to be understood euros. Either way the city seemed oddly empty, even the clampers seemed to be taking a rest. Like a city of dreams this was a town where there were parking places, some of them were even near to where you wanted to go.

It's been seven years since I spent the holiday period in Ireland and I'd forgotten what an intensive experience it is. By day ten I found myself fantasising about evenings spent in front of fire followed by an early bedtime. Alas, like so many of my fantasies, this one was not to be. Pity then your poor reviewer, who after more late nights in a row than any sensible person would do, found himself walking the streets of Dublin for just one more night out. It's time I introduced you to another sister-in-law, Gilly, who hasn't been slow in reminding me that we haven't been out to dinner together. The only thing that we needed was to find somewhere that a vegetarian like her could feel happy in.

Because we'd been slow to notice how empty the streets were, we'd parked on Stephen's Green and decided to walk to George's Street. This is easy for Gilly, who thinks little of running mini-marathons, but perhaps a tad harder for an unfit me. Still, I was gung-ho enough until I discovered my overcoat wasn't on the back seat where I thought it was, and this was a cold night. 'You can wear my hat,' suggested Gilly helpfully, proffering a knitted thing of many colours. You know what? I declined. Trotting to keep up with the long-legged Gilly, we made our way down a strangely deserted Grafton Street. And as I trotted (it's a good way to keep warm) I noticed the chewing gum glowing almost phosphorescently in the glare of the street lights. The streets are actually paved with the stuff - pinkish when newly discarded, then turning gradually to a slate black. I counted twenty pieces on one paving stone. 'Keep up,' said Gilly.

Our goal was Yamamori Noodles, which serves the kind of food that my health-conscious sister-in-law likes. It has those large communal tables with church pews abutting them, but there are a few individual tables and she had thoughtfully booked us one of these. My first thought on entering was 'so this is where everyone is'. Two large dining rooms, one for smokers and the other for non-smokers, were both full of happy people and noise. Service is brisk and friendly and we had menus in our hands in no time. Lots to choose from and all of it reasonably priced, there are starters for under €8 and main courses for under €13. I don't know about you, but I'm still thinking in punts and doing conversions.

There's a reasonably priced wine list on the back of the menu, quite short, but with enough wines to allow for choice. I picked the Chilean Trio Chardonnay in deference to my guest's taste for white, which was fruity and scented and came at a modest €22.22. I wondered briefly if prices like these will soon become €21.99 or €22.99, but I won't bore you with my predictable guess.
The menu is divided into sections like sushi, sashimi, teriyaki, tempura and noodles so you can find what you're looking for easily enough. We decided on a sashimi platter of eight pieces and a norimaki roll to start with and then a tofu steak for Gilly and a beef teriyaki for me. We decided to share the starters, but with me on beef and Gilly a vegetarian who eats fish, not the main courses.

Within moments the starters arrived and for the first time I found myself unintimidated by the fact there was no cutlery as we know it. My god, I was very nearly deft with the knitting needles - I swear it's true, I was even picking up individual grains of rice. Okay, I was trying to get a mouthful at the time, but you can put an optimist's gloss on anything. The norimaki roll was very good, but the tuna pieces and the prawns of the sashimi were really excellent. Very fresh, simply presented and easy on the digestion. Perfect.

I'll confess to a prejudice; I've always believed tofu to epitomise the health-food that I loathe. Soya milk curds? Gimme a break. What's wrong with a healthy tub of lard like my grandmother used to make? So it was with surprise and pleasure that I tasted a piece of Gilly's. I really liked it, but since I couldn't offer anything by way of trade I made do with just a couple of her pieces. No surprises with my beef, it arrived sizzling on a cast iron platter, tender and tasty. Perhaps the stir-fried vegetables that surrounded it were not as delicately cut as they might have been in Japan, but it was a good dish.

Desserts are on a blackboard, and from the day's list we picked the Turtle cheesecake, mainly because of its name. We had just the one between us and it made a sweet and pleasing end to meal. An espresso fortified me for the trot back to the car, after settling up a bill for €74.39, which didn't include service.