I've had a long-term love affair with Mayo, and in particular Clew Bay. For many years I've visited friends in Westport and Louisburgh and have delighted in all that it offers; boating, fishing and diving. There's a sense when you cross the Shannon that somehow time-frames have changed, there's ease in the air, a feeling that life is for living and not for rushing. It could well be that that's no more than my sense of being on holiday, but I suspect it's more than that. Once again were staying with my friends the Slevins just outside Westport, where their house overlooks the Bay and from where you can see Croach Patrick. For the two days we were there the sun shone in a cloudless sky and the countryside looked wonderful, so enticing in fact, that even I was persuaded to go walking. It was as a result of this kind of physical exertion that we all had a fine appetite on Sunday evening.

Some years ago, before I started reviewing restaurants, I'd had a fine meal in Castlebar in a restaurant called the Castle Bistro. I persuaded a slightly reluctant group ensconced in front of a blazing fire that a meal there would make a gentle outing, so off we set. Now if you don't know the one-way street system in Castlebar you can find yourself in some difficulty. We circled the town centre a few times until we found ourselves in Tucker Street, where four or five restaurants are close to one another. Uncomfortable and hungry passengers (there were seven of us in the car) demanded instant access to any of these, so after a brief committee meeting we walked into Cox's and stopped looking for the Castle Bistro.

Cox's has a old-world feel to it; there's stonework and beams and the kind of knick-knacks that re-create that world; elderly books on shelves, copper and brass things and lots of dark woodwork. The bars are downstairs and you reach the restaurant by its own entrance up a flight of stairs. Although we were seven and had no reservation we were found a large table in the non-smoking area, since the smoking are was full to capacity. We sat at a large dark wooden table with simple padded spoke-backed chairs surrounding it. Looking around, you could have been in one of the seventies Berni Inns. The menu here is big, both in size and in length, with nearly a hundred items to choose from. In the unlikely event that you can't find something to please in that, there's a suggestion on the menu that you can ask for what you want, and if it's possible they'll make it for you. Most accommodating.

There was no sign of a wine list, but as it happened this was definitely a night for beer, since wine had been rather too much in evidence on the previous night. The menu is divided into sections; starters, soups, burgers and sandwiches, pizzas, Mexican, salads, pastas, steaks, chicken, seafood and side-orders. It really does take a while to read through it all. While we were doing so both Vincent and I had the same thought - a menu this long is often a sign of mediocre food to come, but we put the thought to one side. Between us for starters we chose deep-fried salmon balls, a prawn cocktail, corn on the cob, a fresh game pate and Clew Bay oysters.

Although none of these dishes sound exciting, when they came there were surprises. Firstly the prawn cocktail wasn't the usual coupe filled with shredded lettuce and topped with the odd prawn, this one came on a plate, was well-presented and had a generous portion of prawns. The salmon balls were well-cooked and nicely flavoured, the pate was well-made and the oysters fat and fresh. As an aside on oysters, these were almost certainly farmed in Clew Bay, but were of course the American cousin of the native smooth-shelled oyster, which is becoming increasingly rare.

The main courses held up the same high standard, a Mexican Taco that was both tasty and huge, completely defeating my daughter; a slab of ribs, which just as its name suggests is only for the very hungry; fillets of brill which were very fresh but marginally over-cooked for my taste, excellent monkfish pieces, and lastly two sirloin steaks, one of which was mine. I'd chosen a Béarnaise sauce to go with it, a sauce I practised a lot in my youth. Truth to tell, this was one of the best Bearnaise sauces I've tasted, very subtly flavoured with tarragon. Chips, jacket potatoes and green salads made up the rest of our order.

Only three desserts came to the table, a banoffi and two portions of profiteroles with a hot chocolate sauce, which we all had tastes of. Both were competently made and they finished off a meal that had been a great deal better than I expected. It was also nice to see that this menu was priced only in euros, and that many of the prices ended with 15, 20, 35 and 65 cents, making it clear that the transition from punts has been an honest one.

You could probably best describe the food here as middle of the road; there are plenty of dishes that fit that bill, and yet there are also dishes that could tempt the more adventurous. Although my eye has still to accustom itself to prices in euros, it's none the less clear that the menu is very reasonably priced. If you subtract the €18 we'd spent on beer from the total bill of €157, the meal worked out at a modest €20 a head.