“There are real Italians working here!” I whispered excitedly to my dinner mate after sizing up a staff of gentlemen occupying both the front and back of the house at Vincenzo.

Eating in the heart of Little Italy, we know, doesn’t always guarantee that cooks and restaurant owners hail largely from the Mother Country, as they did before revitalization dazzled the neighborhood several years ago. Diners must now wade through a battery of transcontinental fare to land upon arcane Italian recipes resistant to trendy hoopla.

Many of the dishes at Vincenzo are akin to the meals found in Italy’s renowned cookbook, The Silver Spoon, which capture hundreds of classic and modern recipes fiercely upheld by Italian tradition. For instance, the simple braising or poaching of meat and fish receives top billing here, as do stimulating antipastos, expertly cooked risotto and densely stuffed cannoli constructed with pastry tubes imported from Sicily.

To be specific, owner Vincenzo Zizzo is Sicilian. Since founding the restaurant eight years ago, his son Anthony has entered the operation as executive chef, bringing to the kitchen freshly acquired experience that he gained working with master chefs during his recent sojourns to Italy. What you get is a menu stamped with some of dad’s sanctioned Sicilian recipes combined with young Anthony’s wherewithal for cooking meals that represent all regions of Italy.

A copious cube of non-mushy polenta flanked by moderately spicy sausage (made by “Pete” down the street) proved a wonderful kickoff to our meal. Tiny pearls of sweet garlic, along with softly cooked peppers and onions, added dimension to the jus-like tomato sauce cloaking the ingredients.

Just prior to the dish being served, we assessed a bottle of Castello di Monastero Chianti Classico, knowing full well that its mellow tannins and medium acidity would make for a fantastic food wine. Sure enough it paired melodiously with everything we ate, much like the Italian version of the song “Whiter Shade of Pale” playing at one point lived up to the restaurant’s homey Euro atmosphere and the easily detectable Italian accents of the wait staff.

Another appetizer, which I assumed would have conformed to San Diego’s culinary beaten track, turned out to be just the opposite. For once, a piece of flash-seared ahi tuna sans the usual blackening spices, ponzu or sesame seeds – listed on the menu as Tonno Rosso e Nero alle Nocciole. The rare-cooked tuna is instead encapsulated by paprika and a mixture of pulverized hazelnuts, pine nuts and peppercorns. The nuts give the tuna unprecedented meatiness and texture, mimicking that of breaded chicken. The fish is also slathered in what the Zizzos call “gypsy sauce,” a delicate-tasting liquid of medium viscosity bringing together olive oil, fish stock and pasta water.

The same sauce was utilized as the braise for my sea bass entrée, a peasant-style preparation common in Sicily that lops warm, sweet tomatoes onto the delicate fish. For wee variation, the chef tosses in a handful of lightly brined artichokes to impart extra tang and earthiness. Though its presentation borderlines on slapdash, as you should expect in recipes with rustic roots, I would immediately recommend it (and the ahi tuna) to the next person who asks, “Where’s a good place to go in San Diego for fish?”

We also tried two ravioli dishes. Those stuffed with salmon gushed of fishiness – a warning to those who prefer their salmon less wild tasting. The ravioli were covered liberally in a rich vodka cream sauce and garnished with a thimble-sized plop of black caviar in the middle.

Immensely more enjoyable were the butternut squash ravioli resting in a placid yellow pool of clarified butter infused with fresh sage. Black pepper spiking the squash filling is the only other seasoning used here, yet the flavors of these thinly cased pillows were surprisingly sweet and vivid. My companion rated it as his favorite dish of the evening.

Where other restaurants flop in making risotto, Chef Anthony succeeds with flying colors. The saffron risotto we tried was cooked to the perfect al dante stage – creamy on the outside, a little crunchy within. The combination of porcini and button cap mushrooms strewn throughout required no additional support from the cheese, meat or other veggies that other Italian families might typically employ. This version sat upright on its own.

Pity that we didn’t try the osso buco alla Milanese, a hefty veal shank braised in red wine and veal stock that exuded dramatically fine aromas as it flew past us at one point. The menu also includes veal scaloppini, filet mignon laced in Gorgonzola cream sauce, various sautéed chicken dishes and cioppino, a classic Tuscan-style stew that traditionally contains five different types of fish, as listed on this menu.

For dessert, expect nothing less than a boozy tasting tiramisu layered generously with marscapone cheese, as well as cannoli sporting thick, crunchy pastry shells made in Sicily that are filled in-house with sweetened creamy ricotta.

Vincenzo’s food bows mainly to the culinary influences found throughout Italy’s provinces more than it budges to those second- and third-generation Italians who keep giving us rubbery meatballs and weighty lasagnas. And for that, we gave a standing ovation.