It's not always the food that attracts me to restaurants. That's not to say I don't care about the cooking, it's just that there are other parts of the equation of eating out that appeal to me, like a buzzy atmosphere and a sense of fun. I'd expect the food to be good no matter where I go, but my expectations vary. In happy-go-lucky bistros I expect decent food at reasonable prices, in a two-star Michelin I expect to pay a lot of money and get excellent food. Sometimes all I want is a pizza, and again I'd expect to find one good enough to eat at price that doesn't hurt. These expectations affect how I enjoy a meal; if the expectations aren't at least partly met, then the experience of eating out has been a failure.

Expectations and pre-conceptions are part and parcel of restaurant-going, especially ethnic restaurants. There are certain things that I expect to find and in the case of this week's review I expected to find a Mediterranean feel and unappetising food. I'll confess a prejudice; I've been unsatisfied in Greek restaurants more often than I've been satisfied, both in Greece and in other countries. Apart from the excellent restaurant 'Polyphemus' in the north of Ithaca, I can't recall being served an exceptional meal either in the islands or on the mainland. It's always been a puzzle to me; 500 years before anyone else in Europe had an inkling of civilisation the Greeks were producing art and literature that has rarely been equalled. The land and the climate are similar to southern Italy, so why is the food so generally awful and the wine almost undrinkable? It could be a case of peaking too early.

The Greek Vine is a restaurant in Avoca, which is also known as Ballykissangel. It's a picturesque village, and that's presumably why it became the series' location. A large stone bridge spans the Avonmore and the restaurant is at the bridge's end. A steep laneway leads off the road down to the front door and on entering you find yourself in a long room, one wall of which is made up of windows overlooking the river. Some classical friezes hang on the wall, as well a Cypriot and Greek flag, so there are visual cues to remind you of its ethnicity.

We sat by the window, my wife Susie looking in at the restaurant and me looking out at the sun setting over the river, making it look like a silver ribbon in the crepuscular light. Now there are certain things that I find inelegant, that offend my sense of taste, things like ruched pelmets, plasticised aluminium windows, plastic flowers and plastic table cloths. You get all of these in the Greek Vine Bistro, so before you can begin to enjoy yourself you have to put any ideas you may have about tasteful décor out of your mind. This is helped enormously by the host and owner, a Greek-Cypriot of immense charm and professionalism who has that rare knack of making everyone feel at ease. He gave us the menus and wine list, explained some of the dishes in detail, and left us to make up our minds.

The wine list is short but reasonably priced - seven reds and seven whites with two Greek wines of each colour. It's rare that I meet a Greek wine that I like, so we ordered a quarter bottle of Australian Chardonnay for Susie, a half-litre of mineral water and beer for me. The menu has all the classic dishes that you'd expect to find, dolamades, souvlaki, kleftico, moussaka, tadziki and taramousalata to name a few. There is an option of a set meal for two that gives you a taste of all the dishes, both hot and cold, but we decided to choose something simpler off the menu. Starters are all around €5 and main courses average under €15.

Susie began with the tadziki, a dish which contains cucumber, yoghurt and garlic. Two of these ingredients, cucumber and yoghurt, rank very low on my list of likes, yet the dish tasted very good indeed. I had the dip made of cod's roe, the taramousalata, which was less tangy than I've had it before, but good none the less. We followed these with the chicken souvlaki - marinated breasts that are charcoal cooked - for Susie and the lamb kleftico for me, a dish that is cooked very slowly until the meat is tender enough to cut with a fork. The portions are big enough to ensure that even the hungriest man would be satiated and each main course came with a huge array of vegetables and potatoes.

While we were wondering if dessert or coffees would come next, the PA sprung to life. It was Stephen's birthday at the next table. While the music played and the disco lights flashed the whole restaurant applauded the cake and I found a big smile spreading over my face. There was such a sense of fun that I almost felt impelled to indulge in the ancient Greek practice of plate-smashing to express joy unconfined. At this point the background music, which had been unrelentingly Greek, changed to Elvis so we had our coffees to the finger-tapping of 'Jail House Rock.'

I'll go back to The Greek Vine Bistro, especially now that I know there's a belly-dancer on Saturday nights. The PA and disco lights make more sense once you know that. This was Greek food above the average coupled with great service. We settled the bill for a modest €73.85 and left wishing that all restaurants could be as much fun.