Valentino

Italian food is having a moment. Yes, another one, thanks to gastronomy's current fixation on the regional. It's something our Italian friends know quite a bit about, with 20 proudly distinct regions in which food is as integral to identity as DNA.

American chef Mario Batali summed up their resistance to change best: no one wants to be the guy who put lemongrass in risotto.

It takes bravery to test the waters the way Riccardo Momesso did at Sarti. No lemongrass risotto, thankfully, but Italian food dressed up with bold flourishes - remember the rocket pebbles, the prawn salami and the n'duja crumble? - that gave him a very modern signature.

And now he's gone and opened a restaurant that's like the foundation myth for southern Italian cuisine. It's in Hawksburn, which is more genteel Tuscany than hardscrabble Calabria. But as the throngs of glossy diners hitting Valentino hard each night show, people are willing to pay a bit of money to eat like a peasant.

Money well spent, she hastens to add. Momesso suits the primal south. He hunts - those deer antlers on the wall nod in the direction of his off-duty proclivities. They lend an edge to a swish modern fitout that nails fashion without making diners feel awkward about it.

This is a place where you can eat a pan of goat offal in considerable comfort, amid white marble counters and sexy Thonet chairs. The ''U Morzeddhu'' - Calabrian offal stew - is a wonderful thing of rich, transgressive flavours, the offaly whack of liver, tripe and brain meeting its equal in the long-cooked tomato sugo landmined with chilli explosions. Bypass the plate and slather it on ciabatta toast.

Add a whole bunch of other things to sop and mop from the list of antipasti. There are agrodolce marinated sardines, and the non-crumbled version of the spicy spreadable salami paste n'duja. The rice in the suppli - a kissing cousin of arancini - is stained black with squid ink, its marine note echoing in the finely chopped cuttlefish, although it could have done with more scamorza (smoked mozzarella) to facilitate the voluptuous strings that make them such fun to eat. Eggplants (grown by Momesso's smallholder relatives in Mildura, so we'll slip that one past the seasonality police) are properly overcooked, their innards mashed with pecorino and breadcrumbs, parsley and garlic, and buried underneath the sugo that's one of Valentino's breakout stars.

The mostly southern Italian wine list sticks to the program. Gutsy, unrefined wines, hiding under a cloak of Italian mystery. Sometimes too gutsy and unrefined: the Cavallina Bianco Grecanico leaves my Sicilian dining companion in stitches. Even the staff, who remain ridiculously perky despite getting slammed, might quietly warn you off that one, but the Puglian Salento will expand your drinking horizons for a modest $40 outlay.

They're very much food wines, so hop on over to the pizza. Simple, honest pizza from an electric oven that was probably slightly too hot, going by the black blistered bottom and the slightly underdone topping of intense, gnarly unpitted olives grown at Momesso's parents' farm, anchovies and buffalo mozzarella that quickly congeals. That sweet zesty sugo makes another welcome appearance, although it's a shame the oregano was MIA.

The pasta's great - the right thickness, the right chew, a smear of baccala sandwiched between homemade sheets. The peasant-chic aesthetic continues with the rugged coil of twine-wrapped pork sausage made with red capsicum paste - quintessentially Calabrian - with wilted mustard greens and fat olives.

Just about the only reminder of Sarti is the green panna cotta with salted caramel popcorn. It's a nostalgic bit of alta cucinathat deserves its place at the table, but we stick to the rustica with a mealy-textured poached apple peeling off its own skin, creamy white chocolate semi freddo and a moat of jelly set from the pectin.

Its homely feel drives home the shift that's taken place. Valentino is a different stage for Momesso. It's more ''him'' - Valentino is his middle name, by the way - unmodulated by the expectations of the city crowd. Little wonder he's nailed it.

THE LOW-DOWN

The best bit Italian food with soul 

The worst bit Yes, it's noisy

Go-to dish Calabrian offal stew, $19

Wine list Victorian or southern Italian, a dozen red and white, all available by glass, carafe or bottle

We drank Luccarelli Bianco Salento (Puglia, Italy), $9/$20/$40

Vegetarian Plenty of antipasti, two pizzas, one soup

Service Informal

Noise From a warm buzz to a peak-hour roar

Value Fair

How we score
Of 20 points, 10 are awarded for food, five for service, three for ambience, two for wow factor.

12 Reasonable 13 Good if not great 14 Solid and enjoyable 15 Very good 16 Capable of greatness 17 Special 18 Exceptional 19 Extraordinary 20 Perfection

Restaurants are reviewed again for The Age Good Food Guide and scores may vary.