Food and Travel

If you're used to a dining-out experience which involves sitting so close to your neighbour you can feel their mobile vibrate, Delfina will be a pleasant surprise. This former chocolate factory, close to Borough Market on London's South Bank, is so spaciously arranged that Wayne Rooney could happily dribble a ball between the tables without inconveniencing the serving staff.

The expansive proportions go with the territory, for the restaurant is part of Delfina Galleries: it opened 10 years ago as a canteen for resident artists. Now the café turns restaurant from 12-3 on weekdays, and, as of this summer, Friday nights as well. Design is chic and understated, the chairs and tables all peppermints and dark blues set on polished-wood floors. And the walls bristle with vibrant contemporary art that's eye-catching but not intrusive: think vivid abstracts and still-lifes rather than (thankfully) sharks in formaldehyde. Presiding over this creative elegance is acclaimed head chef Maria Elia. Her menu, which changes fortnightly, is a likely mix of Mediterranean dishes and Asian flavours, with Australian fish a speciality.

We visited on a balmy summer evening. Sitting at our cartwheel-sized table, savouring glasses of redcurrant-scented rosé (Domaine D'Antugnac 2002, France), fresh-baked bread and fruity Spanish olive oil (from patron Delfina Entrecanales's olive groves) while contemplating a nearby canvas of pink and purple blossoms, we agreed that the laid-back atmosphere was addictive.

And that was before we tasted the food. Surprise taster cups of red lentil, fennel and coconut soup proved as delicious as they were unexpected – light yet fabulously creamy, I was misty-eyed over my starter of delicately flavoured blue swimmer crab on a perfectly cooked, coconutty risotto with chunks of tangy lime. But I was still jealous when I tasted Rob's gooey, melt-in-the-mouth Buffalo bocconcini, a perfect foil to sweet, moreish baby beets. Inspired by our surroundings, I admired the impromptu masterpiece created by the flamboyant pink-green juices of the beets, rocket and basil on Rob's empty plate.

After a zingy rhubarb, lemongrass and ginger sorbet came the main courses. Any fears that these would not match the promise of the starters were dispelled as I tucked into barramundi – soft and succulent with a seared, miso-marinated exterior – with char-grilled asparagus and meaty shitake mushrooms in a ginger vinaigrette. Rob's garlic bison steak was mouthwateringly rare and tender, served with chestnutty sautéed Cyprus potatoes and green tomatoes – though the subtlety of these was slightly overpowered.

Going to great lengths of lardiness, we'd also plumped for side orders of coconut and herb baby potatoes (divine) and roasted cauliflower, quince and manchego which was a dish in itself. Top marks, though, had to go to the feta-and-mint pommes Dauphinoise which came as a further unprompted treat: 'They're dreamy,' advised our chirpy Antipodean waitress. Her taste proved impeccable, as she had also recommended the wine: a gooseberry-laden and highly drinkable New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc (Maison House Bay 2002).

My only criticism of Delfina has to be that as it only serves dinner one night a week, there's no question that it will very quickly become impossible to get a table. At the risk of sounding evangelical, the quality, creativity and freshness of the dishes were extraordinary, even more so when you consider that starters are all around the five-pound mark, and the most expensive main course is under £14. Is Maria Elia's cooking always this magical? There's only one way to find out. Our babysitter is in for a busy summer.