There's one thing that I'm certain of: the quality of restaurants in Ireland has improved beyond recognition in the past twenty years. What I'm not certain of is why that should be so. In part the skills of our chefs are constantly improving, in part our increasing affluence has meant more restaurants have opened and the our choices have increased. Each new restaurant brings new competition to the others, each new wave brings the standards ever upwards. Levels of service and levels of comfort have gone up too, in parallel with the improvements in cuisine, making Irish cooking no longer the poor relation of Europe.

This continual search for improvement takes many forms; there are bistros with reasonably priced menus that produce good food, and all up the price scale standards are constantly being raised. But it's at the top end of the range that the improvements are most obvious. Now there are two restaurants in Dublin with two Michelin stars, and there are more single stars than ever before. There's no doubt that the accolade of a Michelin star is one that many restaurants aspire to, because it's respected by customers and trade alike. But the search for a Michelin star does tend to produce a particular style of restaurant - one that is styled in such a manner as to appeal to the Michelin inspectors.

If I think of the two and three-starred restaurants that I've eaten in, there are similarities. It's not just the excellent food and service, there's a reverence for food and in many cases, the more the stars, that reverence for food takes on a formal air. There have been times in France that I've felt I've been in a cathedral rather than a restaurant. Hushed murmurs from the customers, waiters gliding silently by, and food produced at the table with all the veneration normally reserved for religious icons. It's a feeling close to the one I experienced at One Pico.

I arrived there in the company of Miriam Kelly without a reservation early one mid-week night. Just inside the door there's a small bar area, but the first thing you come to is a counter where a man with a reservation book eyes you coldly. When I explain that we have no reservation, he studies the book and that's followed by the slow intake of breath between pursed lips that's the universal signal of a refusal to follow. I was running through my mental database of where we could go next when we were saved. I was recognised by another man, who immediately found us a table. I don't often enjoy being recognised, but on this occasion it meant no further peripatetic wanderings and we were able to relax. Not only did we get a table, but since both Miriam and I smoke, we got the last of the smokers' tables.

The restaurant is the new incarnation of One Pico, which used to be in Camden Street. It's moved to the corner of Molesworth Lane and Schoolhouse Lane where it's now much smarter and larger. The dining room is a large oblong with gilded pillars along the centre line. Windows are on two sides, the lighting is discreet, the room evokes a quiet elegance. The tables are set with fine glassware and napery, there are comfortable chairs and red plush banquettes against the walls, and the whole creates an ambience of subdued finesse.

The menu tells you at once that you're in a serious restaurant. It's not the prices - they're a little above average, starters ranging from £5-£10 - but rather the interesting combinations of ingredients and flavours. If I were to pick one epithet it would be 'imaginative'. Miriam had been to dinner here a couple of weeks earlier and suggested that I choose the risotto. 'It's wonderful,' she said. There were two on the menu, one as a starter and one as a main course, but it was the main course to which she referred. She chose the crispy duck to start and sole off the bone next, and I chose a tempura of smoked haddock to start followed by the risotto. Main courses are priced in the increasingly common £15-£20 range, but you have to add vegetables to this at £3.50 a pop.

There's a fairly extensive wine list here, but it's heavily marked up - closer to 200% than to 100% - so the wines are expensive. This is one of my pet hates, and in truth, I'm still to be convinced that it makes commercial sense. I suspect that like most people, it doesn't result in me spending £30 for a £20 bottle, it results in me still buying a £20 bottle but not getting the quality I'm used to. My first choice of Chilean Chardonnay was unavailable, so I chose the Klein Constantia Sauvignon at £20.

As in many good restaurants we were brought an amuse bouche before the starters, a demitasse of the pumpkin and roast cumin soup, which was perfectly delicious. Then came the starters; for Miriam the crispy duck, which wasn't so much crispy as spicy, served in a filo pastry basket and far more generous in size than Miriam could cope with. My haddock, too, was a large piece, but very tasty. The bread on table was also a big hit with Miriam, a dark brown Guinness bread that she liked so much she took some home.

Before the main courses came we got yet another tasty morsel, in this case a sorbet, to refresh the palate for the main event. Miriam had a large sole placed before her, presented as four fillets. She doesn't keep her size 8 figure by eating a lot, but she ate more of the sole than I'd have guessed she would. And as for my risotto, I'm stuck for superlatives. Served with asparagus tips, wild mushrooms and topped with a poached egg this was as fine a dish as I've eaten anywhere. A real signature dish.

We finished with a dessert between us, then coffee for me and a fine Alsatian dessert wine for Miriam. A bill for £103.83 not including service was, I thought, good value for this wonderful food, excellent service and pleasing room.