Trevor White - Writer, Food Critic and Publisher of 'The Dubliner'

There are 37 new entries in the guide this year, which means it's goodbye to the same number of places that don't make the grade – for instance, Dobbins, Darwin's and Dali's. I suppose the most peculiar new entry is Deke's, a diner in the docks that is housed in a converted cargo container. If you're in the market for a chip butty it's not a bad spot. And you won't meet Patrick Guilbaud. Which is nice.


I'm tired of seeing goat's cheese, pesto and sundried tomatoes on menus. Sometimes I feel like we're stuck in a moment we can't get out of. And that moment is 1987.


We're about to witness a massive culling. Frankly that is good news. The survivors will be those places that offer a combination of quality and value for money. And please don't ask me to shed a tear for restaurateurs who go broke. Even the rotten ones cleaned up during the boom.


People are sick of frou frou cooking. We want quality and value. That's why places like Bentley's have made such an impact.


Dylan mcgrath is the best Irish chef working in Dublin at the moment. However, I don't know how long Mint will remain in business. Last week McGrath told me that he has debts of over €250,000. It's difficult to sustain losses like that in a market as tight as this right now. Go and see what all the fuss is about. And excuse the pokey dining room.


Why don't Irish customers complain more? Our meekness in restaurants is in inverse proportion to the amount of whinging we do to friends, family – anyone who will listen – as soon as we leave the place. That's pathetic, really, but it's changing, thank goodness.


With the possible exception of Kojak's barber, restaurant critics have the easiest job in the history of the world. On a daily basis we disprove the theory that there is no such thing as a free lunch. And most of us are vastly under-qualified. But glamorous? No, we're not a particularly glamorous bunch. The average critic is a fat dipsomaniac, with gout, diabetes and an oversize ego. How glamorous is that?