The Sicilian Caffe

As far as I’m concerned, first and foremost would be the cannoli, although its widespread (and justifiable) popularity has spread well beyond the island’s shores. Overall, the flavor is fairly neutral (the occasional added chocolate bits or — shudder — candied fruit notwithstanding), so what makes this pastry special is the visual and textural interplay between the golden brown, shatteringly crisp shell and the white, creamy blend (usually based on ricotta) that fills it. Cannolis are among my favorite desserts because they tend to be neutral and light enough to effectively put the point on a Southern Italian dinner, which generally is neither of those things, so I’ve sampled more than my share, good and bad.

Bad? That would be those with the stale shells and overly bland fillings. Good? That would be the ones like those served at The Sicilian Caffe ($6), which delivered the interplay perfectly.

But truth be told, there wasn’t a lot on The Sicilian Caffe’s menu that I think of as characteristically Sicilian. That’s because the island region is, after all, not so far removed from the rest of the country, and regional borders anywhere tend to evoke watercolor paintings, blending and bleeding into each other. It’s true that Sicily is known for its seafood, but it’s beloved in much of the rest of the boot as well.

What I did find refreshing about the place was the offbeat choices on its menu. Stuffed mushrooms ($8.95), for example, are stuffed not with the garlic-crumb mixture you’ll find most anywhere but instead with a mixture of raisins and pine nuts (with bread crumbs) and served with marinara on top. I did find the crumb mixture soggy — too much bread crumbs and marinara, not enough pine nuts and raisins — but these were quite a refreshing change.

So, too, was the chicken Amaretto ($18.95). It was a little sweet for my tastes, but I’m not fond of Amaretto and I wasn’t the one ordering it, and that person found it quite appealing. Chicken breasts had been sauteed with mushrooms and garlic and served in a sauce in which the sweet-almond flavor of the liqueur rang true.

Spaghetti carbonara ($16.95) also was deftly prepared, with lots of pancetta, not so much eggs and cheese, rendering it rich in every sense of the word.

Dinners include soup or salad, and I’ll say this was the best house salad I’ve had in quite some time, owing in large part to the nicely balanced, wonderfully creamy vinaigrette and the addition of white raisins and dried cranberries to the usual lettuce mix and shredded carrots. Pasta e Fagioli was a little more beany than Mr. Sweet-tooth customarily likes, but a higher ratio of beans to pasta increases not only texture and flavor but also nutrients.

Even the bread, a hard-crusted Italian, was better than most, and those who complain about the balsamic-and-olive-oil trend will be happy to know it was served with plenty of butter.

The only misstep — and it was a slight one — was the fried mozzarella ($7.95) that had been fried a little too long, so that the coating was harder than it should have been.

Service throughout was quite good, with both courses and our waiter appearing at the right intervals. It was a relaxing dinner; the place isn’t fancy, but it has a familiar feeling that translates to comfort.

Mr. Sweet-tooth’s grandpa was a proud Neapolitan who had a tendency to say nasty things about Sicilians. But in case you hadn’t noticed, the Sicilians are a proud people as well. And The Sicilian Caffe gives them ample justification.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@ reviewjournal.com.