The drive from my house to Arklow is a particularly pretty one. The road follows the Avonmore valley the whole way, through Clara, the Vale of Avoca, past the Meetings of the Waters, and lastly, just before Arklow, the visual delights of the Net Nitrate factory come into view. But what distinguishes this road at the moment, though, is its wonderful surface - as smooth as any German autobahn and not a pothole in sight. You may think that this is one of those promised benefits of EU membership, but it's not: this section of road is part of the Tour de France route, hence the perfect tarmac. Pity the tour doesn't circle all the Wicklow roads I use.

My wife and I were on our way to Arklow to go to Kitty's, a restaurant that has won itself a good name in the county. It's in Arklow's main street and is above a nicely decorated pub; lots of wood panelling, books on shelves, knickknacks like old wind-up gramophones, brasses and figurines - in short plenty to look at. Wide wooden stairs lined with bookshelves on one side lead up to the restaurant which is decorated in the same style as the bar downstairs. It's very big, but is in three distinct sections so that when only one or two are in use you don't feel lost in space. The section in which we were sat was panelled, had a aged paint effect on the ceiling - in the centre of which was a large fan - Victorian style sconces on the wall for lighting, and simple wooden tables with Windsor chairs around them.

As soon as we looked at the menus it was evident that this is a restaurant that takes itself seriously. There are four pages of 'Loft' menu with chef specials and suggestions, and one page of Bistro menu which is somewhat cheaper. We ate from the 'Loft' menu, which had some unusual and innovative dishes. Warm foie gras and quail parfait with warm shitake salad, braised bison, tenderloin of ostrich, swordfish with turned mushrooms, the obligatory roast goats' cheese, bubble and squeak, medallions of monkfish wrapped in Parma ham - all of which looked interesting and inventive. There was also Steak Diane, a grand old dish which once filled the space on menus between prawn cocktail and crepes Suzette, which looked like something of an anachronism amid the nage and jus. Still, it was nice to see an old favourite being rescued from culinary oblivion.

The starters are all priced between £5.25 and £6.95 and the main courses are in the £13 and £16 range. Eventually Susie settled on the Goat's cheese starter followed by the monkfish, while I chose the parfait of quail to start and the bison to follow. The bison was not available that night so still feeling adventurous, I chose the ostrich.

The wine list is fairly long - some sixty or so wines including some half and even quarter bottles - with a fair mark-up. The list is spread evenly across the price range, from house wines to expensive champagnes. It's the kind of list that I find often enough, but it occurs to me that wine lists ought not to be so well-spread across the price range. I'm prepared to be corrected on this, but I suspect that most diners in this country are happy to pay between £10-20 per bottle of wine. If I'm right, then it would seem logical that the majority of a list ought to fall into this range, with the house wines and wines over £20 being very much the minority. Susie was happy enough with red, so I chose the Penfold's Coonawara Shiraz at £21.80.

There are touches in restaurants these days that give you clues as to what their aspirations are. Someone who arrives at your table with a wicker tray of four different home-made breads is making the point that this isn't the sort of place where sliced white pan makes an appearance. We're aiming high here. The breads were very good, and I decided that Kitty's was trying hard. I was glad of the bread because there was a long wait for the starters. When they arrived Susie's was very good, the goat's cheese well-cooked and the salad that accompanied it nicely dressed. Mine had two very good things, the quail parfait which is served fridge-cold, and the warm foie gras. The trouble was that the wedges of parfait were served on top of the foie gras, and being cold, had turned the warm foie gras into cold foie gras. Nothing much to complain about, but it took the edge off what was a very good dish.

Our main courses were also presented well, the monkfish in four pieces wrapped in Parma ham with a little pile of vegetables in the middle of the plate, and my ostrich tenderloin served on a mashed potato bed. Despite main courses being priced at £15, vegetables are extra so Susie had ordered a side-salad. Her monkfish was overcooked to the point that the ham had become like crispy bacon and the fish almost tough enough to warrant sending back to the kitchen. This is simple carelessness, a good dish spoiled by not paying attention. Susie's side-salad was a good example of what I mean. It had no discernible dressing, and whereas we could argue whether unpeeled apple, unpeeled kiwi and unpeeled orange slices have a place in a salad, there is one thing about which there can be no argument: iceberg lettuce that has turned brown at the edges should not be in it. Somebody really ought to have their eyes on the details.

At this kind of money it's the details that make the difference between a gourmet meal and an expensive mediocrity. When it came to the dessert menu my inner child demanded the nursery comfort of bread and butter pudding - which is what I ordered. It came with caramelised bananas which were fine, but the pudding was heavy and stodgy. At this point we decided to make friends with the young Italian couple at the next table, and so we ordered three glasses of Beaumes de Venise to welcome them to our table. We ended our meal laughing and happy.

It's possible that I was unlucky and hit Kitty's on a bad night, but the fact remains that when you pay over £25 a head for a meal excluding wine you have a right to expect the best; after all we're talking London prices here. What could have been a good meal was spoiled by carelessness.