Having just plowed through some of the best mom-and-pop pizza joints on earth during a recent trip to Manhattan, I was a little reluctant to accept an invitation from my inner circle to eat Italian food on San Diego soil when I returned. The timing seemed too soon. And with “back-East transplant” written across my forehead, my over-boiled complaints about the pizza and pasta in this town are, frankly, something my friends are sick to death of hearing.

The group, however, was spared such diatribes this time around as we lunged into a feast of old-fashion Italian fare at Etna Restaurant and Pizza House. The eatery is the College area sibling of Vesuvio Gourmet and Taste of Italy; their genes mutually revealed by the faux Roman murals on the walls and a protracted menu of saucy, garlicky delights. At 30 years old, Etna is the eldest child in the family and probably my favorite.

Our gang consisted of four adults and two “munchkinettes” who needed their young stomachs fed first – a perfect opportunity for stealing some pickings to assess whether I would forage or flee from here. A personal-size cheese pizza for one of the kids sported a soft, buttery crust and savory low-acid tomato sauce. The other child afforded me a giant ravioli, filled with a beefy mulch that was less remarkable than the rustic-tasting sauce clinging to it. Nonetheless, New York began creeping back into my senses.

Etna and its siblings share pretty much the same menus, although variance in quality and presentation are achieved by the singular cooking styles of the chefs. Here, the menu was recently expanded with nearly a dozen new items such as the Melanzane al Forno appetizer, a baked version of eggplant Parmesan, but with plops of Gorgonzola cheese on top rather than mozzarella. The dish is greaseless and outstanding.

Slap me for making too many East-West Coast comparisons, but nearly everything we ordered tasted like food you would find at an Italian festival in lower Manhattan. The Salsicca, for example, ranks as one of the best Italian-sausage sandwiches I’ve downed in years. The spicy homemade links take residence in a darn good hoagie roll lined with perfectly softened fried peppers and onions and what seemed like whole-milk mozzarella cheese.

The Pollo Toscano is another fine choice, a complete meal of boneless, skinless chicken breasts perfumed in garlic and stuffed with fresh spinach. Veggies and spaghetti marinara come on the side. The low-carber in the group (there’s always one of them) gravitated to Etna’s new salad list, choosing a small Spinach Salad big enough for three people. Pecans, mushrooms and bacon added vitality, as did the lemon-balsamic vinaigrette.

And speaking of balsamic, if you love its sweet woodsy flavor, then pick a cut of pasta and pair it with the Balsamico sauce on the list. I chose angel hair with the added bonus of chicken. Despite the dish’s ashy, dark tint caused by the aged vinegar, it spewed with a sweet perky flavor that wasn’t brackish or overpowering.

Another entrée we tried was Pesto Alfredo with Jumbo Shrimp. The crustaceans were indeed mondo, although a tad overcooked. But the delicate sauce is worth trying, as it’s a few degrees less intense than conventional pesto.

Our waiter, Henry, was a gas. Gruff on the surface, but playful and expedient once the food started rolling in. His antics included pouring drink refills from a foot above our glasses, to asking for a bite of eggplant when he served it. The casting directors for “The Sopranos” would have loved him, given his direct approach and pure pizzano looks.

Etna’s new menu offers every Italian dish known to America. About the only thing missing here is the red-and-white checkered tablecloths. As a result, we over-ordered and needed to skip on the dessert offerings, which include Tiramisu imported from Italy, homemade Cannoli and New York Style Cheesecake.

Warm, casual and fragrant, northeast emigrants will definitely find a familiar pulse rate in this Little Italy atmosphere.