It was the wedding of an old friend that took us to Kilkenny; specifically to Inistioge for the church, Thomastown for the reception and Graiguenamanagh to stay. Although I've passed through Thomastown before, the other two places were new to me. I have to tell you right away that I was entranced with this little triangle of Kilkenny. The well-kept houses, the manicured farms, the broad, slowflowing rivers spanned by beautiful and venerable stonearched bridges all impressed me. I had a strong sense that here artistic communities flourish, that there's a pride in the place and a pride in its history.

We'd been booked into The Waterside, a stone-built building in Graiguenamanagh that overlooks the Barrow and the fine bridge that spans it. It looks as though it might once have been a warehouse servicing the passing traffic on the river. Now its a guest house and a restaurant and it still retains much of its original features. Since we were staying the night there, it seemed intelligent to book a table for lunch the next day. A couple of guides that I was using for reference told me to expect good food.

And so it was that a showery and intermittently sunny Sunday morning had us reading the papers by the banks of the Nore, waiting for one o'clock to come so that we could go and have lunch. I didn't particularly want to arrive on the dot of one, but a heavy shower propelled us inside to look for our table. There were already tables taken, I suspect by people whose cabin cruisers were moored just outside alongside the dock. There's a clean, spare, almost Spartan look to the place with its exposed beams and painted walls. It gives the impression of cleanliness and efficiency at the same time. There are simple wooden chairs and tables covered in patterned plastic table cloths.

We took a corner tables and spread ourselves and our newspapers out. Some home-made scones came in a basket, a nutty one I wasn't mad about and a herby one that I liked. We were handed our menus and set about the task of choosing our rehabilitating lunch. Starters offered a vegetable soup, a frisee salad and egg mayonnaise, all around £2.50, while main courses listed roast rib of beef, baked ham, fillet of chicken, baked salmon and a vegetarian pasta. The main courses were priced at just under £8. Susie chose the salad followed by the salmon while I picked the egg mayonnaise with the beef to follow.

The wine list is short enough and has a spread of wines from around the world with a reasonable mark up. We weren't feeling up to a full bottle, so in deference to Susie's fish I picked a half bottle of white - an Italian Rocca della Querce which was listed at £8. A bottle of mineral water completed the drinks order.

Our starters came and Susie was pleased with her salad, nicely dressed with a good oil and crisp croutons. I'd been wondering about my egg mayonnaise. I kept thinking of Basil Fawlty being asked by an American 'So what exactly is a grapefruit salad?' 'Well,' fumbled Fawlty,' it's a grapefruit, cut in half, and there's a cherry in the middle.' 'That's it?' thundered the American, 'You call that a starter?' And what, I wondered, would he have said about an egg mayonnaise? Well, it's a boiled egg cut in half and there's mayonnaise on it. Which was exactly what I had before me. Beside the egg, on a big, generous plate there was some salad, which gave it what marketing people call, I think, added value. It's such a simple dish that it needs something to make it work. A home-made mayonnaise rather than a commercial one would be a good start, I thought, as I ate my way through my cholesterol bomb.

We sipped the wine and watched the Nore flow gently past outside the window. It was the same view that we'd had from our bedroom on the first floor, which, like the restaurant, was clean, comfortable and simple. The dining room was filling up and it seemed to me that this is just the sort of place you'd be happy find if you were pottering down the river or motoring around exploring this end of Kilkenny.

When our waitress brought us our main courses she was at pains to tell us to be careful of the plates: 'They're hot,' she said. But somehow 'hot' doesn't convey the sort of heat they were still radiating. It was the sort of heat you might get from a kiln - I actually checked to see if it was melting the plastic table cloth. The sauce on my beef had that unmistakable glaze that comes from being under a grill for too long. It's common practice in some restaurant kitchens to put a prepared plate under a grill to keep it hot until a waitress is ready to take it to the table, and if it's just for a moment or two there's no problem. If it stays there too long however, you end up with what I got: not unpleasant, not bad - just not as fresh and crisp a dish as it could have been. Susie's salmon, being baked, didn't suffer like my beef and although it was plain, it was, said Susie, tasty.

The dessert list was made up of profiteroles, pear and almond tart, home-made ice-cream, and pancakes with apples. Susie chose the profiteroles and I thought I'd just have a taste of hers. They came, sliced in half and squirted with cream and had a chocolate sauce on them - just as they should - but somehow they were a little clumsy. Almost right, but not quite. And when I think about it, that's pretty much the story of the Waterside; it's very close to being good. It has a wonderful location, a pleasing dining room and friendly and efficient service - all these elements are firmly in place - it would only need a little more attention to the details of the food and this restaurant could move from the realms of the ordinary.

No espresso was available to finish my meal so I tried a cup of filter coffee, which was acceptable enough. Despite my quibbles, our lunch left us sufficiently restored to enjoy a leisurely drive home across the hills of Carlow and Wicklow. The bill came to £34.35 which didn't include service.