Cipri Italian

14/20

Look closely at the bottles lining the back shelves of this newly arrived Paddington trattoria. They're not Super-Tuscans; nor drinkable Sicilian reds; nor even Campari. They're recycled Italian mineral water bottles filled with the Cipri family's home-made tomato and basil passata, vintage 2010.

And those old black-and-white photos on the wall, the menu and the winelist? No, they're not from some photo agency, downloaded by designers to give the place cred – they're straight from the Cipri family album.

Here's Maria at 16, marrying Severio Cipri in Calabria. Here's the happy couple on their honeymoon in St Mark's Square in Venice. Over there is Severio's embarkation certificate from the Oceania in Sydney in 1956 (third class). And here in the restaurant is the result of the marriage and the emigration: sons Giuseppe (Joe) and Anthony on the floor, and Carmelo working the wood-fired oven. Cipri is, in every sense of the term, a family restaurant.

This is the big one for the Cipri ragazzi. This is the one they put their name on. With its expensive fit-out, smart island bar, paper-over-cloth tables, black micro venetians and exposed light-globe pendants complete with the requisite dangling leads, Cipri is a big step up from the popular, buzzy Swordfish they ran at South Sydney Junior Leagues Club for seven years. Here you don't have to be signed in. You just walk through the door and – "buona sera!" – you're part of the extended Cipri family.

Even the menu is full of things that, by rights, should be eaten around a large table in the company of brothers, sisters, cousins, nonna and nonno. Things such as tuscan chicken liver pate, ricotta-stuffed zucchini flowers, giant pasta shells filled with oxtail and porcini mushrooms and rolled pork belly with mustard fruits.

Cipri leads the charge of Italians heading for Paddington/Woollahra this year. What with Darren Simpson at La Scala on Jersey at the Light Brigade; the Wine Library from the much-loved local, Buzo; and a new bar from Potts Point's Fratelli Paradiso, the area is looking very much like the new Leichhardt.

The crocchette di baccala (salt cod croquettes, $9) are made to Maria's recipe, so that goes on the order. And she makes the taralli (crisp, boiled and baked biscuits) to go with ricotta and San Daniele prosciutto ($13), so that, too, thanks. The croquettes are just croquettes; homely, crumbed, golden. The taralli are like tough, sun-dried bagels but spread them with the nicely gloopy ricotta puree and top with a scented furl of prosciutto and they work a treat.

Maria also has a hand in the caramelle (bon bon) pasta and cures a few olives, that sort of thing.

There is no way I'm leaving without trying the spaghetti alla chitarra with 2010 basil and tomato passata ($19/$24), because its simplicity pulls at me like a childhood memory. The thick earthworms of pasta wear a light cloaking of sauce and a sprig of basil, the parmigiano grated at the table. It is a pleasure to eat, with its light degree of fruitiness and acidity.

Cipri's wine list is suitably Italo-Australian and mainly middle range, with 16 wines listed by the glass and the carafe.

From its upper limits, a 2007 Pio Cesare Dolcetto ($74) is clean, fruity and not too elegant to cope with a bowl of slow-braised honeycomb tripe in a rich, glossy gravy with borlotti beans, and nubs of tender beef short rib ($27). Tripe-lovers would love this dish but then, they're generally so desperate they'd love a wet rag if you called it stomach lining.

Having by-passed the giant one-kilogram T-bone steak for two for something from the wood-fired oven, I get salt cod, the chunky, rehydrated fish baked with potatoes and peas. It's comfort food, for a not-so-comfortable $31.

Desserts veer into cheffy territory with a dense, intense wedge of dark chocolate and hazelnut tart ($14), all tricked up with a pastry chef's brush strokes of caramel and squiggly chocolate garnish. By trying so hard, it just shows itself up for lacking that heartfelt casalinga integrity. When a mother cooks, it is to feed people, not to show off what she can do.

Cipri is a good bet, even with its Paddington prices. You can dress up or down for it, take the date or the family, eat a little or a lot. It sits somewhere between Leichhardt's Grappa and Woolloomooloo's Otto with a bit of Pendolino thrown in – and an awful lot of Cipri, which is the best reason to go.

tdurack@smh.com.au