I vowed that I would stop eating out for a while, having spent much of the last two months feasting on three course meals on an alarmingly regular basis for someone who isn't actually, you know, rich. But I have been bad at sticking to it. Following on from Sunday's lavish brunch at Odessa, today I lunched en famile at the Unicorn (posh Dublin restaurant), where Ralph Fiennes was one of our fellow diners. And he is quite extraordinarily handsome in person, as I noticed when we ended up together in a sort of traffic jam of punters when I was on my way to the loo and he was on his way to yet more helpings from their spectacular and famous luncheon buffet. He does, however, tuck his napkin into his open necked shirt, which is sensible but not very suave. Anyway, I gorged on three courses of delicious fat-laden grub before waddling rapidly away to meet jane_the_23rd and then glitzfrau, during which time yet more sugary treats were consumed. I fear I may now be heading towards a sugar coma.