Centolire

My grandmother, who frequented Elio's for years, has recently grown tired of the noisy room, the haphazard service, and the crush of patrons waiting at the bar. I know how much she loves her red-sauce Italian, so I set about finding a replacement.

Centolire, also on the Upper East Side, is a perfect alternative. The restaurant, so large that it previously housed an elementary school, offers plenty of room in which to breathe. We've been several times now, and we love the magical upstairs dining room.

We knew we were in for a treat when we first stepped off of the elevator onto the second floor. In the center of the golden-lit room was a large wooden table on which sat a large wheel of Parmigiano Reggiano, a prosciutto-slicer, a cutting board with slices of Italian salami, and a bowl of fresh cantaloupe. The well-appointed table and the cozy corner bar made us feel like we were in the dining room of a beloved friend.

The service was as welcoming as the atmosphere. Our gracious waiter brought by a complementary bowl of olive-oil drizzled peppered ricotta and a basket of focaccia. While we munched and deliberated over the menu, the table next to us enjoyed tableside preparations of truffled fettucini carbonara and Caesar salad.

Our chosen indulgences were the special three-bean greens soup, a wondrously garlicky clams in white wine sauce appetizer, breaded veal milanese (as big as a pizza) accompanied by sweet roasted baby Brussels sprouts, and a slightly browned pan-seared meaty organic striped bass. There was a slight delay with my entree, so the lovely manager, Gianfranco, threw in a free dessert: a thick slice of pound cake covered with creamy mascarpone mousse and a tumble of fresh strawberries! (We also loved the tiramisu. For those with foresight, a chocolate-mocha souffle is available if you order it at the beginning of the meal.) Not surprisingly, I am now a loyal patron.

Centolire: 1167 Madison Ave., (212) 734-7711.