Food Miles

East Dulwich is awash with such swathes of young families with children in tow that for a restaurant to refuse them access would generate almost as much of a fuss as turning people away on grounds of race or sex-uality. But there's a difference between allowing them in and being genuinely welcoming. My wife, my two-year-old son, my seven-week-old daughter and I were the first customers of the evening, trying to squeeze in a meal before bedtime, and were welcomed to Si Mangia with arms open in such a way as to communicate a tacit understanding that we could create mess, wreak havoc, leave in a hurry and yet everything would be OK.

My daughter slept in her car seat. My son, however, is used to food appearing before him almost as soon as he is placed in a high chair, so he was a little taken aback to be presented with a menu and a wine list, but he soon settled into the swing of things. We'd forgotten to bring his own miniature cutlery and so he seized upon the full-size set laid out before him and began to wave it enthusiastically around his head like a Gladiators contestant.

My wife ordered a bottle of Barolo, along with its cork so that we could drink the rest once the children were in bed. I ordered stuffed calamari from the specials board, to be followed by Napoli sausages with a borlotti bean sauce. My wife opted for calves' liver pâté and involtini di melanzane - aubergine that is fried and then baked with tomato, ham and mozzarella - purely because she loved its polysyllabic sound.

She took my son out for a wander before the food arrived, so I helped myself to a second glass of wine, designating her as the driver in the process. I took him out after the main course. 'Cricket!' he said excitedly, pointing at the picture of Robin Smith that is still used on the out-side of all branches of William Hill, and I applauded him. We returned to find scoops of ice cream waiting for us and my daughter having a drink at the milk bar.

It was all surprisingly relaxing. The food was terrific, and Si Mangia has the feel of a real neighbourhood restaurant. We left with bedtime rapidly approaching, my wife gathering up our ice cream-covered son, and me walking down Forest Hill Road with half a bottle of wine in one hand and a baby in a car seat in the other.