We taxied to the new Mamma Mia in Walton Street hot-foot from a performance of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat at the New Theatre, with the catchy Any Dream Will Do continuing to hit the repeat button in my brain (as the blasted thing still is a week later). All that talk about lean years and famine had stimulated the appetite nicely, though. Happily, this was to be dealt with very satisfactorily over the next 90 minutes.

On arrival, we found owner Jon Ellse in charge of proceedings, making it immediately clear that this was to be one of those occasional reviewing nights where anonymity would have to go by the board. I have known Jon rather longer than either of us perhaps cares to remember. The son of the legendary Wally Ellse of Turf Tavern fame — and, indeed, of the scarcely less legendary Ann Ellse who ran a number of pubs on her own account — he has been well known on Oxford’s catering scene over two decades. His first Mamma Mia, in South Parade, Summertown, is a firm favourite and generally packed (hence the need for a second one). Those in search of slightly more-upmarket style — that’s me, folks! — prefer his next-door Portabello operation.

Mamma Mia Jericho, as it happens — as Jon has made it happen — has a rather swankier decor than its forebear. There is still a brick bar and checked table cloths (though no Chianti bottles at either place, thank you!), but there is a definite feeling of cool about the joint, a matter chiefly of its white walls and subtle lighting.

The rear extension, with its white tiled floor and over-arching skylight, is particularly smart. Jon wondered if we would like to sit there but my eye was on the table for four in the bay window. A place in which to be seen or from which to see? You choose. In any event, I went for the seat facing the window, with Rosemarie and our pal Paul opposite.

The matter of what to drink was quickly settled, when Jon drew our attention to a special wine chalked up on a blackboard. On novelty value alone we could hardly have resisted the Alisios — an unusual blend of Pinot Grigio and Riesling grapes produced in Brazil. In fact it had a delicious flinty edge and proved an ideal accompaniment to our starters, especially the whitebait.

Actually, we made a pretty good hit on the starters. Besides the generous plateful of ‘leetle feesh’, we shared a second Greek favourite in crispy fried calamari with lemon and caper mayonnaise, and antipasto misto. This was an elegantly arranged plateful of two types of salami (dry-cured Napoli and spicy Calabrese), thin-sliced Parma ham, and moist mozzarella and hard ewe’s milk pecorino cheeses. A vegetarian mixed antipasto is also available, featuring grilled zucchini and aubergine, marinated artichoke hearts, roasted peppers and cheeses. Both come with pickles and bread.

For main course, there is a choice between pizza or pasta. The former are, of course, freshly baked, using dough and tomato sauce produced on the premises. There are 17 listed on the menu, including such favourites as Stagioni (olives, smoked ham, mushrooms and artichoke), Quattro Formaggi (mozzarella, gorganzola, pecorino and provoloncino, with spinach and optional tomato sauce) and Napoletana (anchovies, olives, capers and oregano). Among pasta dishes (besides the ones we ordered) are Rigatoni Molisani (smoked salmon with wine, cream and dill sauce), linguini with king prawns, and favourite spaghettis, Carbonara or Bolognese.

My choice was Spaghetti Puttanesca — literally ‘whore’s spaghetti’, about which I shall neither make comment nor expect it. It was as good as any dish of this description I have eaten with the robust flavours of the anchovies, black olives and capers well to the fore, and the whole not too overladen with garlic. The pasta was al dente. Again at Jon’s suggestion, I drank a glass of Poeta, a light and smooth merlot from Venice.

Rosemarie went for lasagne, which arrived at the table bubbling in its dish, with a rich tomatoey sauce featuring (like the aforementioned salami Napoli) both beef and pork. Neither was present in the special Paul selected from the blackboard. As its name makes clear, Pizza Agnello contained lamb (minced and spiced) along with aubergine, roasted red peppers and — to considerable livening effect — fresh chillis.

He then polished off a bowl of Tiramisu in which all the classic ingredients —including, for once, a good slug of Marsala were present and correct.