Andiamo Ristorante attempts to bring old world charm to an area that has little

Andiamo Ristorante owner Daniela Marcone hovers near the desk at the front of her restaurant. Speaking on the phone in Italian to a potential customer, she says something to the effect of, "This is a traditional Italian restaurant. ... No, there is no fettuccine alfredo or lasagna." With a warm, sympathetic chuckle she adds, "No, no pizza."

Andiamo's food might strive for authenticity, but its location is not what you'd expect for a white-tablecloth Italian restaurant. Located off Burnet Road in a dated strip mall that looks like it could be home to a baseball card shop and a Fred Astaire Dance Studio, Andiamo appears as if it were plucked from early-'90s Middle America.

Naples, Italy, native Marcone, who first worked as hostess and then general manager at the 7-year-old restaurant she purchased two years ago, exhibits pride when noting that the restaurant's food has roots that spread from calf to toe of the booted Italian peninsula. The result is an array of dishes that have Italian DNA but at times suffer from the American sin of heaviness and richness while speaking with a French or Swiss accent.

The limited menu – this is no Gianni's Pasta Barn – is separated into antipasti, insalatas, primi (pasta) and secondi (protein) piatti. Though Italian custom generally serves that a meal include a primi and a secondi, Marcone says some customers have trouble adjusting to the style. Therefore, Andiamo's pasta plates are big enough to serve as an entrée unto themselves. The restaurant offers half plates of pasta at both dinner and lunch, however, allowing the full range of the culinary experience.

At less than $5, a half-plate of the spaghetti cacio e pepe ($4.25) at lunch may be one of the best values of any pasta dish in town. Small, thin pennants of Parmesan cheese top al dente pasta that has a feisty bout of pepper you feel in your nose. Rich flavors of pecorino Romano cheese pacify the spice and miniature garlic pieces, white and strong like travertine, leave a wonderful aftertaste. The small pool of oil at the bottom of the plate reminds you that unfortunately America has not adopted the siesta, and your afternoon back at the office may drag on like a scoreless soccer match.

From the Roman cacio e pepe, it's a trip up the Italian Riviera for a half plate of linguine cozze e calamari ($5.25) that you might find in places like Cinque Terre, one of the dozen Italian locales featured in photos on stretched canvases throughout the restaurant. The open mussels drank in the acidic burst of fresh, rich tomato sauce that served as a delicious broth for the tender rings of calamari.

Artichokes and sun-dried tomatoes provide tart tang and chewiness to the medley of crunchy carrots, firm green beans and softening squash and zucchini in the pollo alla Romana ($10.50). Marcone says the restaurant shops local farmers markets for produce, and the freshness is evident here, though most of the vegetables seem like they would be more appropriate for a pasta primavera. The slightly overcooked chicken was enlivened by a lemon basil sauce, but the white wine and butter do their best to knock you out.

The same vegetables from the chicken, along with peppers and onions, return with the scaloppine allo champagne ($12.50). The creamy sauce looks like a boring blanket of brown, but the color is true to the delicious blend of shiitake and cremini mushrooms that give the dish a rich, earthy flavor. Despite the intensity of the mushrooms, the perfectly cooked veal, its texture not completely hammered beyond recognition, stands up to the challenge, though the heavy dish feels like it wanders over the northern border of Italy.

Dinner offers a completely different, and pricier, menu than lunch, though the format remains the same. Dinner entrees start at $16.50, and most are double the price of lunch entrees. Of course, at dinner, one can also indulge in wine with a little less guilt. The wine list, curated by Marcone, features Italian wines exclusively, about two dozen by the glass and another couple dozen by the bottle, with pages of information and maps at the back describing different regions of Italian winemaking and the varietals they produce.

The melenzane ($9.50) appetizer has the eggplant serving solely as a cheese delivery system. The thinly sliced purple vegetable rolls a trio of cheeses into something that resembles a cannoli. The dish looks pretty but lacks any nuance or flavor beyond a creamy burst of ricotta.