On arrival at The Sawmill, the small girl and I walk through a blanket of blooming star jasmine, their scent catching the morning air outside.

"Can I pick one flower?" she asks. 

There are thousands of white blooms beside the timber-fronted restaurant and we shamelessly pluck 10 blooms from the carpet of twining creeper.

Bouquets in hand we are met at the door by a cheery staff member in a black The Sawmill polo shirt. Will she tick us off for the flower theft? No. She wants to know if we would like a small container of water for a temporary vase.

The Sawmill is unlike other cafes on a Saturday morning. It is busy, a mixture of post-sport family groups and newspaper-reading couples. But it is not frenetic.

Within its wood-lined interior, housed in a wide shopfront in a sleepy tree-lined street, it is deeply calming.

No endless search for a nearby car space ... No milling about on the footpath until a table is free. It's straight  to a chunky dark-timber table beside a long bank of concertina windows, open for the spring breeze.

Orders are taken, flowers are deposited in water and, in a flash, a flat white, made with house-roasted Italian Street Collection coffee, comes with a freshly squeezed orange juice. Cutlery is carefully set around us.

The Sawmill, an Italian cafe and restaurant, has two levels. The front door opens to a compelling cake display, table-seating, a bar area with high stools and glowing bottle-filled shelves and, beyond, an impressive brick pizza oven. Its opening frames two thick logs blazing gently away.

A lower level, beyond two timber-edged balustrades framing huge circular saws, features an airy and spacious seating area.

Modern and rustic, it is decorated with recycled woods, metal pendant lights, Edison bulbs, hanging plants and black-and-white photos of moustachioed wood workers, a nod to West Pymble's 19th-century timber production past.

Zucchini fritters arrive, a plump pile of moist burger-like patties bulging with herbed corn and zucchini pieces, perfectly runny poached eggs, feta cubes and dramatic swathes of tomato relish.

Also ordered is rogan mushrooms for grandpa, a tiny mountain of fat fungi sauteed in Indian spices and herbs with pumpkin pieces, served with greens, pomegranate seeds and an avocado half, dolloped with cooling raita.

This, like grandma's abundant bacon stack, is a hit for its fresh, bright ingredients and the sparky mix of flavours.

The small girl keenly whips in scrambled eggs from the kids menu before eyeing a small delicate pink cake at the front counter.

This multi-layered marvel, a rum baba-like confection of fresh berries, moist cake, creamy icing and pink sugar pearls, is shared.

The Sawmill is owned by Domenico and Susan Murdocca. Open for lunch and dinner, the menu then changes to pizzas, meat and vegetable platters, pastas and hearty mains along with pastry chef (and opera singer) Rocco Speranza's glorious desserts.

Driving past later, it is a buzzing treat at night, the wooden walls glowing as pizzas are whisked from the oven into the jasmine-perfumed night air.

This morning, happily full, and clutching our flowers, vows are made to return for Sawmill's take on every meal.

THE PICKS

Zucchini fritters; rogan mushrooms

THE COFFEE

Italian Street Collection

THE LOOK

Serene mix of reclaimed wood, exposed brick and sprawling jasmine.

THE VALUE

Good. Zucchini fritters, $24; rogan mushrooms, $19

NEARBY

Grace Cossington Smith Gallery, Abbotsleigh, Gate 7, 1666 Pacific Highway, Wahroonga