There are two things that preoccupy me more than most. The first is my continuing quest to find good Italian food in Ireland and the second is the relentless rise in restaurant prices. Let me be clear, I'm not one of those who think that high prices in Irish restaurants are purely because of rip-offs: no, I believe that high prices in Ireland are across the board. Everything costs more here than it does elsewhere. That's not to say rip-offs don't exist: they do, and some are so great that they verge on theft.

When I heard about a new Italian restaurant in Bray I had the same reaction that I normally have: I got hopeful. Could this be my Shangri La? Could this finally be the place where I could find Italian food as I know it? My friend Michael Lowsley lives in Bray, so we decided to meet there. If you know Bray sea-front at all, then you'll know that Campo de Fiori ( Field of Flowers) lives in the space that used to be the quirky vegetarian restaurant called 'Escape'.

The interior has barely changed since Escape; a coat of paint, some new prints on the wall. The tables are plain wood; some match, some don't, some are old Singer sewing tables. The chairs are simple bentwood, the place mats are plastic. First impressions are of a simple, unpretentious bistro-style eating house. While Michael studied his menu, I began with the wine list, which is a well-chosen list of good Italian wines. Obviously the old favourites are here - the Barolos and the Chiantis - but there are also three white wines from Mastroberardino, probably the best winery in the Campania. One of these was the Fiano di Avellino, a wine that Michael had enjoyed recently in Sorrento, so we picked that.

I asked for a big bottle of mineral bottle and was told that they only served quarter bottles. Now I've complained often enough that water in Irish restaurants is overpriced to the point of lunacy, but when it comes only in quarter bottles the cost of a litre can easily reach €10, which is clearly insane. You should be suspicious of restaurants that want to sell you tiny bottles of water one at a time. It's a form of greed, a means of extracting even more money from you for simple water. This time I bucked, 'In that case, I'll have a jug of tap water, please.'

The menu is quite long and there are long lists of antipasti, pastas and main courses. Michael decided on an antipasto, which was good and varied. Prosciutto, salami and mortadella as well as small plates of other savouries - including a close approximation to an Italian 'salsiccia' (a sausage) - made him happy. I'd picked the gnocchi alla Gorgonzola, which was also good, though with a rich cream and cheese sauce, it was more than a little filling.

And so we come to the main courses and the substance of my discontent. Michael had picked the 'grigliata mista' or mixed grill, which, according to the menu, consisted of pork, lamb and beef and cost €23. I'd chosen the 'agnello scotadito', which literally means lamb-burn-your-fingers at €19. You might reasonably suppose that when - as in Michael's case - you're paying €23 for a main course, that it might come to you complete. Not here it doesn't. Anything else - right down to a potato - is extra. So when Michael ordered potatoes, leaf spinach and mushrooms, each of these 'side orders' added a further €3.50, bringing the cost of his main course €33.50. I had deliberately not asked for any side order, just to see exactly how bald a plate the kitchen was prepared to send me for €19. I got three lamb chops on my plate, with a tiny spray of shredded lettuce as the garnish and bugger all else. It does make you wonder what exactly a 'side order' is. I have always understood it to mean an 'extra', a little something that you fancy over and above what you're getting with your main course - not the bare essentials needed to complete it.

There was absolutely nothing wrong with my lamb chops, but then how wrong can you go with three plain chops untouched by any culinary technique other than grilling? Michael got a nice lamb chop, a piece of beef, another couple of salsiccie and a pork chop that appeared to consist of little other than bone, fat and gristle. For €33.50 this dish represented a rip-off of such jaw-dropping proportions that even by Irish standards it takes the prize. To put the price of this single dish into perspective, last week I had a five-course dinner in Parknasilla in Kerry - a grand hotel with a grand dining room - for €38. An early-bird set dinner in the award-winning Chapter One will cost you €30. The trouble with an experience like this, is that people reason that if a small restaurant in Bray costs this much, then a top-class restaurant must cost much more. But they don't. Serious professionals producing high quality food are charging far less than Campo de Fiori is for its plain fare.

We ordered another bottle of wine, a Chianti Reserva 'Lamole di Lamole' 2000, which Michael had visited in Tuscany - a delicious wine that mellowed my mood a little. After we'd finished our main courses our waiter gave us a long list of the desserts that were 'off', while handing us the menus. Frankly by this point I was bilious with a sense of profound injustice; another great hope for Italian food in Dublin dashed not by a bad meal, but rather by excessive over-pricing. No desserts, we had a couple of coffees and settled the bill, which came to €144.30 before adding a tip. Very rarely in my life have I left a restaurant feeling that I'd been mugged, but this was one of those occasions. I thought of my lamb. Yes, I'd had my fingers burned.