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In more than twenty years of serving dinner to the uptown crowd, this house of red sauce hasn’t changed a thing. And while the Parmesan-tinted plaster walls, tile mosaics, and wrought-iron banisters may once have evoked an authentic trattoria; by 2008 standards, the room feels tired and dated. The one appealing throwback is a table of fresh antipasto and desserts, set near the front door. Platters of sweet roasted peppers, marinated artichoke hearts, and grilled zucchini tempt, while a second display of tarts piled high with raspberries promise a satisfying finish. But these well-executed culinary bookends frame a menu of bland, oversauced main courses. Classic pastas like gnocchi Sorrentina and spaghetti alla carbonara are flooded in sauce; mushroom-dotted veal scalloppine alla marsala is plated in a sticky glaze. Even the seafood isn’t immune: Branzino alla Livornese comes as an entire butterflied fish, sadly overwhelmed by a saline pile of capers, olives, and the ubiquitous tomatoes. — Benjamin Kneen

Antipasto della casa, $10; raspberry tart, $8