When dining alone on good food, the meal has your full attention. If it’s bad, it’s really bad; if it’s excellent, the excellence is embellished, and the pleasure is yours alone. The same thing happens when you travel, and for those who spend their evenings chasing the hot restaurants downtown, a visit to Sfoglia may seem a little like a trip to a foreign land. There are only ten tables, and the décor seems almost willfully frumpy. There is a stuffed pheasant over the kitchen door, and a picture of a pig and an Italian noodle chart (sfoglia is a sheet of egg pasta) on the wall. (The proprietors, Ron Suhanosky and Colleen Marnell-Suhanosky, also operated the now-closed original Sfoglia, on Nantucket.) Instead of linen napkins, you dine with rolled-up dish towels. Instead of effete flower arrangements, there are bowls of lemons or red peppers on the rickety wooden tables.