It’s easy to imagine this sunny little place as an Italian home at supper time. The first recipes were adapted from Donatella Trotti’s family file, then perfected through trial and error at the restaurant. Her restaurant is definitely cramped enough to fit the European dining room bill. Guests listen in on each other’s conversations, bump elbows, or wait awkwardly in and around the door while tables clear.

In a departure from Old World hospitality, Nonna Tata asks that guests bring their own wine—and their own wine glasses, although some are available for rent ($3 fee). Trotti keeps her weekends free, opening the place only during the week—except for Mondays. When it is open, the smell spreading from the kitchen, filling the room, is one of comfort.

Dishes follow the same theme: hearty enough to evade deconstruction, yet prepared with such great care that words often fail to capture the experience. Diners fall into silent reverie when dishes arrive. Sometimes, however, prospective diners find the doors locked because the owner is out of town. The restaurant can afford to be so homey because it only seats a handful of guests. Call ahead—it’s a quirky but special place.