Long before the small-plates concept tidal waved onto San Diego’s dining scene, there was Tapas Picasso Restaurante in Hillcrest. Some 15 years ago, we were shown how the Spanish eat for chunk change – a plate of olives here, a shaving of cured jamon there. Yet, in the face of high rents and aggressive competition from Anglo restaurateurs, today’s dwarfed portions have become naturally pricier and decidedly more creative.

To some degree, Picasso has held out. Simplicity still lends itself to variety with a menu dominated by more than 40 Spanish-style tapas that haven’t changed much since I frequented here several years ago. But, as expected, many of the small-plate items have tipped the $10 mark, and entrées now average about $20 apiece.

Consistently wonderful are the Cantimpalitos in red wine sauce – thumb-size pork sausages tied in sheep casings with a modest smoky flavor. You get about eight to an order for $7.95, and they’re laid over wine-soaked bread slices. Another cherished favorite is the Spanish Potato Omelet with paprika-spiked chorizo. A mosaic of soft potato cubes, red bell pepper and the sausage are held together by an invisible amount of egg, resulting in compact wedges drizzled with mild aioli, which in Spain is blander and creamier than its garlicky, less-emulsified American counterpart. If you order the No. 8, the spuds come fried and they pander duly to Southwest palates with chipotle-infused aioli.

Picasso’s house salad used to be a big draw for me, if only for the intensely flavored cilantro dressing. To my chagrin, the dressing appeared a paler green than what I remember, and it tasted riddled by sugar.

In earlier days, I would couple the salad with Habenaro Shrimp and Pasta, a medium-size, contemporary-style dish that currently remains listed on the “specials” board – nowadays for $12.95. But if you’re hankering for quantity over variety, it’s still a stomach-filling bargain for the money. You get a mound of linguini and seven large shrimp coated in a cheesy cream sauce speckled with one of the feistiest chili peppers on the planet. The burn is easily quelled by a long guzzle of Sangria, which tastes more tannic than fruity here, and is available by the glass or pitcher.

My companion nudged me out of my past routine by opting for Assorted Tidbits on Toothpicks. Dainty and colorful, they’re the ultimate party hors d’oeuvres, but for $10.95, we felt they were a little overpriced. The two-inch picks hold meticulously skewered pieces of Spanish sausage, shrimp and cured ham interspersed by green olives and potato cubes. They sit in a puddle of pickle juice mixed with garlic and oil, which we soon discovered made for a mighty fine bread dipper.

Other tapas choices include spicy lamb strips in garlic sauce, snails in butter sauce, albacore mousse pâté, fried squid rings, turkey meatballs in chorizo sauce, and artichoke bottoms stuffed with shrimp and cured ham over saffron rice, which ranked among the most cheeky and flavorful items in our lineup.

But despite the persistent trend in small-plate dining, which Picasso helped pioneer locally, there are those who repeatedly declare their disdain over sharing miniature rations. Those tapas you love disappear too quickly, and the ones you find mediocre simply keep hiking up the bill. For them, Picasso offers an entrée menu featuring full portions of New York steak, scallops, salmon and chicken, plus weekday dinner specials with salad and dessert for $16.95. (Mark your calendar for Tuesday nights if you’re a paella fan.)

Service on the Sunday night we visited was slightly above efficient, given the fact that our waitress was the only server on duty. Had the small restaurant filled up with a few more tables, we would’ve likely been fetching our own water and silverware replacements. But then again, part of the beauty of eating tapas is to sit back and enjoy the lazy stream of food as it sporadically arrives, while you soak up the conviviality of the room.