Turn the corner off Fordham Road in this less-than-wistful section of the Bronx, and behold a dreamy, movie-camera-ready urban block where trees grow uniformly, old folks walk well-lit streets hand in hand at night, and kids play basketball in the playground after dusk. What’s the deal? Aren’t the double-parked Cadillacs a big enough wink-wink? If you’re still clueless, notice how everyone sitting family-style at Dominick’s sounds … like family! No one chooses from a menu. Everyone screams out orders and gets heard. Nothing seems too much to ask of the waiter. You? You ask him if you can have menus. He walks away for a while. When he comes back, empty-handed, you ask if they have veal. He says yeah. You ask if you can have pasta. You get offered a couple of Ronzoni-box ideas. Don’t ya get it yet? Think big. Tell the guy what you want. Like a seafood pasta loaded with a month’s catch. Or enough stuffed veal to make you kinda sorry you laughed at those Sansabelt slacks. Hey, when in Rome — and all points south — go with the flow. And the pork skin braciola. And the chicken Parm. And the baked clams. And even the zuppa di pesce for two.