You could argue that being self-referential is no more than amour-propre, but what the hell, I'll do it anyway. Back in 2002 I wrote this about a restaurant: 'Our maitre was the epitome of hosting skills. And if you're wondering why you haven't yet heard of this wonderful food, it's because the Vico has only recently obtained the services of Stephen McAllister, a young and very gifted chef about whom we'll no doubt be hearing a lot more of in the future.' Prophetic words, that's the same Stephen who's the permanent chef de cuisine in RTE's 'The Restaurant'.

Oddly, despite massive publicity past and still to come through the TV show, the Vico is no longer a restaurant, a decision reached by the new owners of the Queens. On the face of it that would seem a strange decision, but Stephen and the John, the above-mentioned maitre and chef, are still working as a team. You can find them in Citron, the restaurant in the Fitzwilliam Hotel on St. Stephen's Green. Citron itself is the end of a line of incarnations, firstly as Conrad Gallagher's 'Christopher's', then as 'Mango Toast', then as 'The Commons Cafe' and now, finally, 'Citron'.

If that series of metamorphoses strikes you as an attempt to find a character that suits the space, you'd be right. The Fitzwilliam was designed by the Terence Conran design team and in many ways it's very striking - lots of clean lines, brushed steel, planes of chunky wood, big areas of polished stone both vertical and horizontal, and a bright, airy, minimalist feel. You'll notice that I haven't used the epithet 'functional' in that description. Citron's dining room is on the mezzanine floor, which means a low ceiling height and leaves one side of the restaurant open to the lobby below.

It's not my practice to spend much time writing about the actual dining space, but today I'll make an exception. For all the design features which you may or may not like - like the limes and citrus yellows of the room - there are some practical drawbacks to the design. I was sitting with the artist Susan Morley up against the side that overlooks the concierge's desk, which meant that every phone call to the hotel and every guest looking for directions became part of our experience, since we could overhear every word with ease. Worse, there is only one door to the kitchen, which means that all the internal hotel traffic goes through the dining room. Room service trays and bar snacks keep walking past you and then, as the evening draws to a close, the room gets set up for breakfast with large folding tables being carried through and erected. None of this is conducive to a relaxed dining experience.

I can see easily enough that the hotel would like to use this space to its maximum capacity, but it must be clear by now to the management that the endless changes of style and character are cosmetic; it's the functionality of the room that needs addressing, not the décor or the food. And in this new incarnation, the food is really good. I've eaten Stephen's food often enough to know what he's capable of, so it was no surprise to find that he was cooking here up to his usual standard and John, as ever, is the quintessential maitre d'hotel.

The menu is short, but sweet. Six starters, ranging in price from €6 to €13, and six main courses priced from €17 to €24. A few of Stephen's signature dish starters have made the transition, the pan-fried foie gras and the confit belly of pork. Other choices are the carpaccio of yellow-finned tuna, king scallops with a cauliflower puree, a pea and truffle risotto and a butternut squash soup. I couldn't resist the foie gras, but Susie decided to try a special of the day, the artichoke plate. The foie gras was as good as it gets, but Susie's artichoke plate was a work of art. Beautiful to look at and tasting wonderful, it was composed of two artichoke hearts and a roasted Jerusalem artichoke - a great dish which ought to be on the menu permanently.

For main courses Susie picked the crisp fillets of sole, which were served with braised lettuce, mushrooms and grapes - a really unusual combination that worked well. I had the duck breast, which came with poached dried fruits and a parsnip puree, cooked perfectly pink and alongside a confit of the leg, which although small, was probably the star of the plate.

I haven't talked about the wine list since it's about to be overhauled and the prices brought down to cluster more around the €20 than the current €30 mark, which I feel would be more in keeping with the bistro-like feel of the room. There was a Pinot Grigio listed at €21, so I chose that and it went happily enough with our food choices.

I'd eaten very well and plentifully, but Susie still had room for a dessert, so she had the caramelised pineapple at €6.50, which was served with a cocoa sorbet and pink peppercorns, another unusual combination that is the hallmark of Stephen's cooking. This one worked well also, and between we us we managed to finish it.

So to sum up we ate very well indeed, but my reservations about the room remain. We sat sipping our coffees and wondered what, short of rebuilding the hotel, could be done. I have no doubt that it's a perfect space for breakfast for the hotel guests, it could be very pleasant for an afternoon tea, but as a evening restaurant it doesn't quite work, despite John and Stephen's best efforts. I was left thinking that food this good should be in an environment better suited it, where a proper wine list and a more intimate atmosphere would show off their combined skills to better effect. It's a tragedy that they're not still in the Vico.