In a corner of the new cafe at Scotland Street School and Museum in Glasgow, just by the entrance, there is a fascinating picture.

MACS cafe and gift shop,
Scotland Street School and Museum,
225 Scotland Street,
Glasgow G5 8QB, 0141 287 0500
Food: Home-made soups and sandwiches, plus a big selection of tasty cakes
Price: Soup and half sandwich, £4.25; afternoon tea including sandwiches, scone, cake and tea or coffee, £10.25
Wheelchair access: Yes

In a corner of the new cafe at Scotland Street School and Museum in Glasgow, just by the entrance, there is a fascinating picture. In washed-out black-and-white, it shows row upon row of tiny children sitting in front of empty plates in a Victorian dinner hall. Standing over them are three teachers who have the glint of the prison guard in their eyes. It reminds me with a jolt of my own school dinners and a hatred they gave me of certain foods; a hatred that has never left me. Mince, lemon curd, broth, broccoli. I could go on.

Fortunately, today, the picture is the only thing that is reminiscent of those lukewarm meals in distant cold halls, even though we have come to have lunch in a school. Not an ordinary school, of course. In fact, Scotland Street is such a wonderful building that before we sit down we wander round and take in all the little details of this Charles Rennie Mackintosh icon - the futuristic angles, the towers of glass and the delicate metalwork that runs like a network of arteries through the building.

The cafe is at the back in what might once have been a classroom and there are huge windows along one wall that allow dollops of light into the place. Slap bang in the middle is an impressive galleon of a table that could easily seat 16 and along one wall is a breakfast bar decorated with thousands of Smarties. They've had a bit of fun with the design here. Which is good.

The menu shows touches of the same funster at work, although the first thing I notice is the old-fashioned option of afternoon tea served on a cake stand. Why isn't more food served on cake stands? I love all those bits of old-fashioned table furniture such as cake stands and toast racks and gravy boats that tea-on-your-knee has probably killed off for good. I miss 'em.

It's not time for tea and scones yet, though; it's lunch time and the menu has a great mix of tummy-fillers and lighter options. There is a regular specials board, too - today it's fish pie. I go for the lentil soup and it's great; the waitress tells me it'll stick to my ribs and she's right. Some people might think there's too much pepper in it, but not me - it's got a great, fireworky buzz to it. I've gone for a half sandwich, too, and the brie and grape option is good - just a little too much butter. The side salad is wonderful. Don't you get really, really bored of lettuce and tomato side salads? Here there's been a bit of imagination and the plate is heaped with lovely sweet beans and chickpeas and sweetcorn. I polish off mine and my companion Alan's too. Alan has gone for soup as well and it's chicken and rice. It's the real thing - it hasn't been over-blended; instead it's full of chunks of chicken that look like stepping stones in the middle of the bowl.

The rest of the menu is wonderfully indulgent. There is a stack of snowy home-made meringues and an ice-cream menu that could have been written by a naughty 10-year-old. The coffee, too, is good and reliable and the choice of cold drinks interesting and quirky. The best thing is that the service is superb: chummy and practical and just the opposite of those vulturous teachers who look down on us from the picture.

All of this - the food and the decor and the service - has been thought through really well. This is a place for families, but it's also based on the best idea: good food that isn't processed or manufactured on some distant industrial estate. It's made here, it's made well and it's the opposite of those school dinners that came to mind when I first saw that big picture on the wall. In fact, I can feel those memories of glutinous lemon curd and watery broccoli beginning to fade. Maybe.