Remember that thing about childhood when Christmas seemed to take an eternity to arrive? Like long car journeys when you'd be bouncing up and down on the back seat asking excitedly 'Are we there yet?' until parents could bear it no more? Some waits just seem to go on and on, like waiting for the roadworks in Kilmacanogue to finish. I can still remember the sign that went up five years ago that said 'Expect to be delayed until 2003' and I thought they were joking. Well they really did take five years to do it, a span that per mile must go into the Guinness Book of Records for the longest time ever taken per mile of motorway. Worth bearing in mind that back in the 1930s Herr Hitler was building a kilometre per day of autobahn. But like all waits it too eventually came to end - presumably because everyone concerned was too embarrassed to milk it any further - and this week they took away the bollards.

What this has done is make Wicklow town as much as ten minutes closer to Dublin, and when the rest of the road is finished - I'm guessing here some time around 2016 - it'll be even closer. That makes it a commutable distance and it makes a visit to Wicklow town to dine a real possibility even coming from Dublin. This new ease of driving persuaded me to go to Wicklow town with my wife for a meal in a restaurant that my friend Max McGuinness had recommended to me, an Italian restaurant called 'Vesuvius'. As is the way in these things it seemed appropriate. I'd just finished reading Robert Harris's 'Pompeii' where Vesuvius figures largely, plus I'm watching the first series of 'The Sopranos' where Artie Buco's restaurant is also called 'Vesuvius'.

Church Street is a nice bit of Wicklow town and Vesuvius is right next to the municipal car park, which is a bit of a bonus. It's in a new building and it's upstairs, on the first and on the second floor. We were shown right to the top, the first floor already full of diners. The upstairs dining room had a feel of Italy to it, like a trattoria in a newly built building. The walls were a shade of Pompeian red, the roof was covered with the mats made of thin bamboo rods used in Italy to create shade. What looked like vines, stripped of bark and bleached, threaded their way across the ceiling, the windows were decorated with wrought iron and the curtain poles too gave me the sensation that they'd come from Italy. The simple chairs with raffia-work seats and the simple linen covered tables all created the trattoria look. Nightlights cast their dim flickers from each table, making me long for real candles.

The wine list carries plenty of Italian wines, mostly at the economical end of the spectrum. There's a couple of big reds, a Barolo and an Amarone, but for the most part it's mid-range. The whites are even more weighted towards €20 and I chose a Verdicchio, a white wine from the Adriatic coast at €19.45. Mineral water comes in half-litres, so we ordered two.

The menu has plenty of choices from starters to main courses to pastas. I'll admit now that mentally I do apply higher standards to Italian restaurants than others, simply because when it's done right Italian food is hard to beat. With that in mind Susie and I decided to choose accordingly. Because you can see Capri very well from the bayside slopes of Vesuvius, a Caprese salad seemed a good choice for Susie and I had a starter portion of penne all'Amatriciana. So now I'm going to be fussy and pedantic. A Caprese salad is the Italian flag: it's red, white and green. Red for the tomatoes that come from the slopes of Sorrento, white for the mozzarella and green for the basil leaves. That's it, just a little good olive oil to garnish. What it doesn't need added to it is grated carrot, olives and Iceberg lettuce, which is what Susie got. My sauce, named after the town of Amatrice in the Roman Campagna, needed more reduction. Tasty enough, but too much water at the bottom of my plate. I found myself thinking 'Here's another one. Italian in name only, purveying ersatz Italian food to an easily pleased Irish palate.'

But then came the main courses and I had to re-assess. Susie had picked the sea-food risotto and it was really very good. Arborio rice properly cooked, and a seafood flavour that comes this rich and unctuous only when you take the trouble to make a stock from the shells and off-cuts. Meanwhile on my side of the table a portion of pork escalopes cooked in a lemon sauce was making me very happy indeed. Throughout our meal, even though the restaurant was very busy on two floors, no one seemed to be waiting for long. Clearly there were enough staff - and all very charming - to do the job properly.

Neither Susie nor I had enough of an appetite for desserts, but all the usual dishes like cassata, tiramisu and zabaglione were on the menu. While Susie finished her wine I had a good espresso, short the way I like it, and found it was charged at €1.30, which these days isn't dear. In fact when I got the bill I had to go through it carefully to see if there was a mistake, €66.65 didn't seem like much, especially as the wine was €20 of that. But it was right, no mistakes. Which explains why the restaurant was so busy even mid week - it's very good value.