PLUCKING up the courage to make a booking at the recently renamed La Locanda restaurant in Staindrop brought images flooding back of my last visit to the premises more than 20 years ago.

On that occasion, if memory serves me rightly, it was called The Tavern, and I made the mistake of inviting my late mum, visiting for Christmas, to join my party of revellers for a festive meal.

Unused to strong drink, she got exceedingly merry on three rum and blackcurrants, downed in our village pub as a "winter warmer" while we waited for our minibus to battle its way through snow to take us to Staindrop.

But worse was to come. Following dinner washed down with a couple of glasses of wine (she had got the taste for it by then), she proceeded to pull the crackers off the beautifully decorated Christmas tree, making the hats into paper aeroplanes, before eating all the chocolate decorations and claiming ownership of someone else's pre-booked pudding. I tried to disown her at that point, but the family resemblance was too strong. Hence the 20-year gap before showing my face again.

During that period the restaurant has gone through several name changes, including Wackford Squeers and most recently The Shambles, and owners. But manager Rosario Iannotti, who has been in charge for three and a half years, decided in August to change it to La Locanda as a way of reflecting its Italian and continental cuisine, although it loosely translates as "set in a lovely vista", which Staindrop certainly is.

Despite being exceptionally busy, Rosario, a native of Naples who came to England 14 years ago, treated us to a beaming smile when husband Peter and I arrived, dispelling all previous qualms. The restaurant holds 40 people and on the Saturday night we dined all wanted to eat at 8pm so we agreed to an 8.30 booking. There is also a private function room holding 20 people.

We arrived on time and were hungry to start, Peter enjoying some complimentary nibbles of bruschetta - toasted bread with chopped tomatoes, garlic, olive oil and basil - which were brought while we waited for the menu. And waited and waited.

The problem stemmed from the ever changing dishes being written up on a blackboard, which of course everyone wanted to view at once. It was compounded by the wine list being chalked up on the reverse, leaving us twiddling our thumbs for 20 minutes.

However, when Rosario brought the board he took the trouble to explain dishes we might not have heard of, asked what kind of flavours we liked and on hearing that I was not overly fond of tomatoes pointed out that other ingredients could be substituted.

"I have a very small freezer, which I make limited use of, such as for ice cream," he told me later. "I buy everything fresh daily and all our dishes are cooked to order, so you can have what you like and leave out what you don't."

I opted for mussels in wine and garlic to start, which were plentiful and succulent, with good bread for mopping up the liquor. Peter plumped for the calamari (squid), which can be rubbery if overcooked, but it was spot on. However, it came with a rich, tomato-based sauce and he would have liked a few salad leaves just to cleanse the palate.

Other choices included pumpkin soup, fish cakes, asparagus baskets and Greek salad.

Although we had ordered our mains along with the starters, we had a 50 minute wait before they arrived, making it 10pm. With an iffy digestive system I found it difficult to cope with the creamy beef stroganoff and gorgeously sticky rice at that time of night and consequently, although it was delicious, I couldn't finish it.

There was a good choice here too, with monk fish chowder, sea bass and rack of lamb among those we considered.

Peter enjoyed a seared tuna steak with ginger sauce and some good al dente vegetables which included carrots, broccoli and new potatoes. But he too would have enjoyed it better an hour earlier.

By the time we had got through the dishes it was quarter to 11 and neither of us could face a pudding, so we ordered coffees to round off. With a bottle of soft-on-the-palate house red the bill came to £48.60.

It's also worth asking for one of the chairs with a padded seat as opposed to the rustic straw ones, which I found uncomfortable during such a long evening.

Rosario later apologised for the wait and told me that it had been an extremely busy night, and that he had also had a staff problem. But he was keen to point out that he likes to give diners the opportunity to eat in the Italian way, taking all night over their food, and will never rush anyone or throw them out whatever the time of night. His formula works for some people because he was a familiar figure to many who were obviously repeat diners, but although the food was good, the wait killed it for us I'm afraid.