Little Sicily makes customers feel like they're part of the family

Restaurant reviewers are widely considered food snobs. I'll readily admit that's true, but perhaps not in the way you might think.

Although I love the occasional splurge at a romantic French restaurant, where white-gloved servers lavish attention, bouillabaisse and Bordeaux upon me, when I'm on my own time, I most often patronize small, unpretentious family run restaurants.

I've been a professional eater for more than a decade and I'm still mystified by the hordes that endure interminable waits for tables in crowded, noisy eateries where the food is the same whether you're in Florida or Washington State.

No surprises. No local flavor. No zing. Not for me.

I'd bypass a dozen of those to get to a place like Little Sicily Trattoria, an aptly named outpost at the western end of a strip center called Fountain Shoppes on Pine Island Road.

It's run by Mimi Tumminello and her son, Vinnie, along with her nephew, Manny Consigliati and his mother, Maria. The distinguishedlooking man whose photo hangs above the cash register is Paul Tumminello, Mimi's husband and Vinnie's dad, who died not long before the restaurant opened.

PHOTOS KAREN FELDMAN Vinnie Tumminello, who owns Little Sicily with his mother, Mimi, expertly prepares the dough for a pizza beneath a picture of his father, Paul.

Little Sicily Trattoria is, indeed, little, with seating for about 30 if you include the three wooden stools at the counter. The tables are devoid of tablecloths or placemats, but homey touches abound: in the signed dollar bills adorning the soda machine like so many refrigerator magnets, in the small cloth napkins sheltering warm rolls in plastic bread baskets, and within the framed photos and artwork displayed on the walls, resembling the knickknacks you'd find in a family room.

And, as many of us are accustomed to doing when we visit someone's home for dinner, you can take along a bottle of wine because espresso is the strongest beverage served in the place.

There wasn't the usual phalanx of servers there the night I visited. Instead, cousin Manny was in charge of the front of the house. He handled the job with energy and good humor as the evening progressed and in-the-know foodies filled all the tables.

Aunt Marie's cream puffs are homemade and taste that way

After taking in a meal there, I could figure out why.

The aforementioned rolls and butter arrived at the table first, giving us something to munch while we considered our dinner options. There are pizzas - thick and thin crust - by the pie or by the slice, wedges (otherwise known as hoagies, heroes or subs), salads and calzones, along with eight appetizers and a dozen entrees.

(Just as an aside, Little Sicily has a weekday lunch special of two slices of pizza and a 20-ounce fountain drink for $5. Now that's hard to beat.)

The pizzas - hand tossed in plain sight by Vinnie Tumminello - looked delicious, but our mission involved more substantial fare. We started off with arancini and an eggplant and spinach roll, which was one of the nightly specials. Arancini translates to "rice ball," but turned out to be far tastier than it sounds. This Sicilian specialty consists of rice, chopped beef, peas and Parmigiana cheese covered in breading and fried to crisp, golden perfection. The roll began with thinly sliced eggplant, which was wrapped around spinach and ricotta cheese. It came out piping hot, with the eggplant somehow retaining its structure rather than collapsing into an unappetizing goo.

Salads were the standard fare - lettuce, cucumbers, carrots, tomatoes, etc. - but were cold and fresh with a light application of blue cheese dressing that contained sufficient cheese chunks.

With the exception of the Parmigiana items - chicken, meatball, veal or eggplant, available in sandwich or entrée form - all main dishes involve pasta. I tried the night's special, pasta carbonara, while my companion chose linguini with red clam sauce.

We could see Mimi Tumminello working intently over the stove preparing the dinners, patiently coaxing sauces and pasta to just the right state of doneness, then swiftly assembling them. Both dishes had a homemade flavor and look to them. The clam sauce contained big pieces of clam along with a generous amount of red pepper flakes, which gave it a pronounced bite. It was a delicious dish, but not for those with delicate palates. My carbonara was wonderful - the pasta a perfect al dente, dressed with egg, cheese and tender bits of bacon that was neither too fatty nor too salty.

How could we not have dessert when the two choices on the menu are Mom's cannoli and Aunt Marie's cream puffs? At $3 a piece, we had one of each.

The tube-shaped pastry was a little crisper than is customary and broke as we attempted to cut it, but the taste, with a hint of cinnamon and the smooth, sweet ricotta-based filling, was right on the mark. We also enjoyed the cream puffs, with their tender pastry shells and velvety cream filling.

Little Sicily's motto, printed on the menu, is "Bringing tradition to the table." Modest though the operation is, it delivers on that promise. Although he wasn't able to be a part of it, I feel certain Paul Tumminello would be proud of what his family has created.