Last week I was reviewing a restaurant that had just gained a Michelin star. It's an accolade most chefs aspire to: it's an affirmation, a recognition of their art and skill. Think of it as an Academy Award Oscar for cuisine. You could reasonably ask 'just how are these gongs decided?' and if some of the recent reports regarding the guide are accurate, then the answer seems to be 'not very scientifically'. Still, whatever inherent faults the guide may have, it remains none the less a benchmark for serious foodies.

What you get in these starred restaurants is cooking taken to its heights. The ultimate accolade is three stars, and it's given to very few. Three stars is great food in great luxury. A few weeks ago I was in Alain Ducasse's 'Louis XV' restaurant in Monte Carlo, his showcase three-star restaurant. It's a swirling, turbulent extravaganza of rococo, all marble and gilt, plush velvet and expensive drapes in the equally dramatic Hotel de Paris. The food is totally wonderful, but even here there's a need for constant re-invention. It was my second visit, so I was watching to see what had changed. The food was as consummate as before, the wines exquisite. It was after the desserts that latest addition was manifested, when one of us chose a tisane rather than a coffee after the meal. A mirrored door opened and a shrubbery on wheels was rolled to the table. A waiter put on white gloves and picked up a pair of scissors. He approached the pots on the trolley with delicacy. He snipped a little verbena from one, a little mint from another, a sprig of thyme from another. Some boiling water from a silver samovar, and voila! - a tisane for monsieur. You can't help but smile when confronted with pure theatre like this.

But back to the more prosaic. To gain a single star you have to be committed. Every detail is studied and carefully replicated. There are rarely mistakes. The menu should be inventive, innovative and expertly presented to the table. These are not meals that you come across often, they're the occasional pearl that you find amid hundreds of common oysters. And that's the fun of restaurant reviewing - every now and then you find a pearl.

I found one this week in Waterford, in Faithlegg House to be precise. Faithlegg House is a grand manor set in rolling grassland that has been turned into a golf course and you can see the Suir estuary from the bedrooms. It's a country house hotel of the type that I like; sensitively restored with much of the original fittings intact. It manages to combine style with comfort and ease, but the food is the star. The dining room is redolent of the style of times gone by. If it wasn't for the mineral water bottles on the tables it could have been a scene from the sixties, perhaps the dining room of the old Russell Hotel.

I sat with my guest, Isobel Smith, studying the menu. 'It looks old-fashioned', she said, just as I was thinking it was rather cutting edge. But then that's the thing with fashion, it comes and goes, ever repeating itself. It's a set dinner with six starters and six main courses, and from a chef's point of view it represents a huge amount of work. Lack of space stops me from listing all the dishes, but to start we chose the pan-fried foie gras and the mosaic of langoustine and vegetables in a light gelee. Expertly cooked, the foie gras had me in heaven.

Before the main courses we had a taste of the field mushroom soup, flavoured with walnut oil. Spectacularly good, we finished it all. For main courses Isobel chose the Dover sole while I couldn't resist the saddle of rabbit. Both of these dishes confirmed what we'd been thinking - the Roseville Rooms produces very fine food. We finished with a divine crème brulee for Isobel and a perfectly executed baba for me. A rich, lush, Carmen Camenere Cabernet Sauvignon made a silky accompaniment to this feast. If a gastronomic treat is what you like, take a trip to Faithlegg, where the Michelin star quality set dinner is a bargain at €45.

Next day I went to Waterford town for lunch with Master of Wine Alan Crowley in the Tuk Tuk Thai. Just off the road to Dunmore East, it's a pleasingly decorated restaurant. Pastel shades adorn the walls and the tables are screened from one another. Well-made and well-flavoured Thai food is on offer here, and between us we managed a Thai salad and a chicken Satay as starters and we followed with a Khao Pad for me (fried rice, pork and vegetables) and a Pad Priew Wan for Alan (chicken in a sweet and sour sauce).

Naturally the MW choose the wine and he picked a delicious New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc by Joe Babich, crisp and clean-tasting, it complimented our food well and was listed at €21.25. What I liked best about our meal here was that the food had precise and clear flavouring, the Thai salad and my stir-fry were particularly good. The prices in the Tuk Tuk Thai are very modest; starters are all around €6 and €7, main courses come at around €10 - our bill was €46.56.

Do you know a restaurant manager - under 35 - who you'd like to nominate for the Rosemount Young Restaurant Manager award? If your nominee wins, you win as well - a weekend for two at Ashford Castle. Phone Grants's of Ireland at 01 630 4100 to get a nomination form, the deadline for nominations is the 30th of April.