Do you pay attention to how much of your restaurant bill is taken up by booze? Restaurant owners are defensive about this. How else are they supposed to make money? Margins are tight, wages are high. True for them, but times are tough for all of us at the moment.

The zeitgeist calls for frugality. Bill-boosting aperitifs and digestivos are out. Early Bird menus and BYO are in.

Until recently, I knew of only one restaurant in Dublin that allowed you to bring your own drinks, which was appropriate considering how drunk you'd need to be to eat there. But then along came Keshk Café, an unassuming Mediterranean place that doesn't charge corkage and is, by happy coincidence, located a couple of doorways down from the Louis Albrouze wine shop on Upper Leeson Street.

Armed with a bottle of Domaine Cros Minervois 2007, and another of Costieres de Nimes Cuvee Cimel 2005, the Cartoonist and I swooped upon a very busy Keshk Café last Friday night. The place is tiny and has been furnished on a shoestring. Jesus and Seabiscuit were both born in a stable -- proof that humble beginnings are no hurdle to achieving greatness. Keshk, however, fell down the moment we were handed the menus: the variety of dishes on offer is insurmountably dull.

"Mediterranean Cuisine" is a very baggy term. Technically, we could be talking about anywhere from France to Greece to Turkey. Maybe the term Middle Eastern is politically loaded, but that is how I would have described any menu that includes hummus, falafel, grilled lamb and chicken kebabs, not to mention non-alcoholic Laziza beer, which hails from Lebanon.

When I go to a "Mediterranean Café" I expect to be offered a mezze plate, piled high with olives and haloumi. This wasn't an option at Keshk. Nor was there any kibbe or kofta to be had, never mind side bowls of smoky babaganoush and fragrant tabouleh salad. There was basic pita bread all right, but no sign of baked specialites like manakeesh pastry, or crispy fried sambousek.

Ignoring the starters that were clearly there by popular demand (chicken wings and prawns in filo), I tried the falafel and was sorely disappointed. Marks & Spencer sells a tray of falafel tastier than those at Keshk. They were distinctly dry and had been made from a mould rather than hand-rolled. The flecks of parsley and coriander leaves didn't seem to add any flavour, while the "secret spices", presumably cumin and coriander seeds, also tasted flat. A rather watery and insipid tahini dressing offered little by way of lubrication.

The Cartoonist stretched Mediterraneanism to its limits, and chose goats cheese melted on toast -- or crostini as they're called en Italia. Crostini should be bite-size, but this single piece of toast was too large in diameter to be considered true "crostini". Still, it was good and crunchy, with a nice slick of herb-infused olive oil, the goats cheese was pungent, creamy and warm. Attractively presented with a bail of mixed leaves and ribbons of carrot, it was a generic but likeable opening act.

The rest of our meal was undemanding. The chef didn't go to any trouble and we were biologically satisfied, but in no way convinced that we'd eaten anything authentic, never mind exotic. The main courses mostly comprised lamb, chicken, prawns, or steak cooked on a charcoal grill, and served with a choice of rice or potatoes.

Shishtaouk, or cubes of chicken breast, were marinated in yogurt and grilled. The meat was moist, the portion was kind, but it lacked intention -- something you might haphazardly assemble yourself at a bank holiday barbecue.

The Cartoonist's lamb chops were good, meaty cutlets, very juicy and nicely caramelised. They were coated in creamy garlic butter and accompanied by a ramekin of harissa-based relish, which didn't seem appropriate for the lamb.

We finished up with a tea and a cup of muddy Arabian coffee, but once again were stymied by news that the traditional baclava had sold out. And so we settled for a chunk of good, but geographically misplaced, carrot cake. Notwithstanding the excellent service, Keshk Café is frustratingly bereft of Middle Eastern promise.

Keshk Cafe Tel: 01 6689793 129 Leeson Street Upper, Dublin 4

- Aingeala Flannigan