For some commentators it represents a gaudy apotheosis of Celtic Tiger flashiness, for others it is a glittering symbol of New Ireland in all its whitetoothed, slick-haired glory. Whatever your take is on the bar that spawned a thousand bitchy quips, you'll have to admit . . . if you've ever graced its interior that is . . . that it is an impressive space.

Cool, white marble walls reflect warm, perma-tan-enhancing lighting; glass and chrome fittings lend the room a refined, sophisticated elegance. Surroundings such as these don't come cheap though, even by our rip-off republic standards. The prices might even be described as outrageous, a pint of Guinness warrants the immodest price tag of 6, not that a lot of pint drinkers hang out here, it's more of a champagne and cocktails kind of place, sweetie.

The custom ICE attracts is usually wellheeled and not shy about letting you know exactly how flush they are. Diamonds and designer garb compete with morbidly obese wallets and nip/tucked faces for attention.

Some of the 'dynamic Irish artwork' on display is a little corporately bland but we're not really here to look at the walls.

The Four Seasons being a bastion of the charity ball too, it's not uncommon for ball guys and gals to sashay through the bar on their way in or out to the smoking area. In and out they parade, 500 hairstyles wilting and gowns becoming more dishevelled as the evening wears on, charity ball attendees are unusual creatures.

The first time I dined in the main restaurant at the Four Seasons, I spotted one such lady saunter through the dining room oblivious to the fact that one of her clearly reconstructed breasts had escaped the carriage of her halter neck. When she realised this, she calmly put it back in place as casually as if she were putting her purse in her pocket, gave a little giggle and blew the other diners a kiss. Welcome to the Four Seasons.

I had arrived alone as my companion had been delayed by her own wardrobe malfunctions. Oh well, I ordered a gin and tonic and sank into a sofa by the back wall and took in the human cabaret being performed around me. The women looked expensive and all of the men seeped serious financial clout.

An air of unbridled, smug confidence pervaded. A young waitress came over and asked if I'd like a newspaper to read and I said yes. A nice touch. Service is impeccable in here, I've said this many times before but it really is, a great many other restaurants and bars could do a lot worse than take a leaf out of the Seasons' staff training book.

Eventually my sushi pal arrived and we settled in to some witty commentary about everyone else in the room before getting stuck into the menu.

Aya has had a branch on Clarendon Street for a number of years and, to be honest, I've never really been a fan. Sushi conveyor belts just make me dizzy, so I usually get my Japanese fix from either Yamamori or the excellent Uki Yo on Exchequer Street.

Thankfully they haven't installed a conveyor belt in ICE. Food is served from a custom made bar at the back of the room. In the spirit of this latest endeavour, two new Japanese inspired cocktails have been added to the cocktail list, a saki mojito and a cucumber martini. The Saki mojito works a treat and is dangerously quaffable. The cucumber one, not so much.

We ordered a selection of sushi pieces:

tuna, yellow tail, salmon, all ubiquitous sushi reliables. The menu is fairly tame, so a good spot if you're a sushi virgin/beginner. Our table was set up with chopsticks, soy bowls and sushi trays. Most of it was so-so, the yellow tail was superb. I love the ritual of eating sushi, I love the way it looks and I love how it tastes. It's a social food, not really substantial, but satisfying in its own way. We got through the 10 pieces fairly rapidly, dipping slivers of pink pickled ginger in soy, draping it over a piece, adding just a touch of wasabi and then wolfing our creations down.

Time passes quickly in ICE, and there is no need for a watch as you can tell exactly what stage of the night it is from the music: chilled ambient for early evening, cheesy house music around 11 o'clock culminating in some appalling bleepy rubbish come chucking out time.

We finished our sushi and had a few more cocktails, feeling more and more like we belonged as time wore on. I even caught myself considering doing sunbeds for a moment, not good.

Aya at ICE was a hit for me, the cool aesthetic of the decor is well complimented by the cool aesthetic of the sushi.

It's not going to wow you if you are a sushi fanatic but do go and enjoy the experience as a whole.

Bring a well-fed wallet and try not to get too intimidated by the wonderful people. You never know, you might actually like us. . .

TTHE BILL 2 Yellow Tail Nigiri 7.00 2 Unagi 6.00 2 Spicy Kani 6.00 2 Ikura 7.00 2 Salmon 4.00 1 Ninja Martini 12.50 3 Saki Mojito 25.00 1 G&T 8.50 TOTAL 76