Summer is over and a fortuitous combination of circumstances sees us in Kenmare at lunchtime with two hungry teenagers whom we've sprung from their bootcamp of an Irish college for the day. No better place, as it transpires, than the pretty Kerry town, which manages to cater for coach-loads of tourists whilst retaining its dignity and without the juggling act appearing to take a feather out of it. There is some good shopping, an outpost of Sarah Walker's eponymous Castletownbere gallery, a wonderful wine shop, Vanilla Grape, and a host of good places to eat.

Kenmare goes from strength to strength in foodie terms – the fact that the streets of the town are coming down with Bridgestone plaques bears testament to the very real evolution that has happened in these parts. I came to the area on holidays as a child and then a teenager but I don't remember anything about the food, bar the whole wild salmon that were delivered by generous cousins on an almost daily basis (we ate it for breakfast, lunch and dinner and did not question where it came from) and the mackerel that we'd catch in their dozens. I don't think that we ate out at all – and, of course, why would we have done with such bounty on the table of our holiday rental?

The night before we'd eaten in the sumptuous surroundings of Sheen Falls, where chef Heiko Riebandt is making his mark with the creative use of the excellent raw materials of his terroir (I'm still dreaming about the Castletownbere lobster with truffle mayonnaise and asparagus) and must surely be in pursuit of Michelin recognition. And we had a booking for dinner at Mulcahy's, which I last visited (and reviewed positively) a couple of years back – having failed to secure a table at the legendary Packie's, despite making three separate calls from three separate numbers with three very convincing reasons (not including the fact that I wanted to review the place) why they should make room for us. Mulcahy's turns out to be as good as we remembered it – the food confident and assured, the atmosphere buzzing.

But for lunch, we like the look of The Truffle Pig – a place that started life as a shop and traiteur at the other end of town and has expanded to incorporate a café – the kind of place that every small town needs. It's busy and, by the time we land a table, having spent five or more minutes perusing the offering of salads, lasagnes, tarts etc on display, we are ready to eat our hands. It's a good thing that service is speedy as well as charming. Cajun Chicken Salad (€7.95) for Esme, a Spinach and Goat's Cheese Tart (€5.75) for Meera and Open Crab Sandwiches (€8.95) for Felim and myself. This is not complicated food, but there is proper care and attention here and each dish is excellent. The portions are generous, the homemade bread is moist and flavoursome, the pastry is impeccable. We like that the tart has no egg in it and that the crab is sweet and spanking fresh. The only quibble is that the chicken isn't free-range – or, if it is, it isn't stated to be. It still tastes pretty good, though, says Esme.

We share a huge portion of Apple Pie (€4.50) which is as simple and delicious as everything else that preceded it. Our wholly enjoyable lunch for four costs €49.35, including soft drinks and excellent coffees all round but before service. Terrific value, we think, for food of such high quality. Next morning we have a late breakfast at another Kenmare hotspot, Jam, where the sausage rolls are a force to be reckoned with and the bacon sarnies on batch are just the ticket to set the girls up for their final week at the grindstone.

Our only gripe is that it seems a tad unfair that one small town should have so many great places to eat when there are towns all over the country that don't even have one.

The Truffle Pig
Henry Street,
Kenmare,
Co. Kerry
Tel: (064) 6642953
★★★★