We have our fingers crossed. Between Café Fresco's prominent Main Street location in East Greenwich and the classy feed it puts on, you'd think the restaurant's survival is assured. It's not that easy. A string of restaurants has inhabited this spot in recent years, and they've all folded. Two or three occupants ago, I recall coming in early and turning on my heels to leave, never to return, after being greeted by the reek of ammonia from a floor being mopped during dinner hours. But the last restaurant here was excellent, run by none other than Jimmy Kazounis, of Jimmy's at the Italo fame. Since even that didn't work out, an ancient curse on the spot cannot be ruled out.

What a shame. They seem to be doing everything right at Café Fresco, they being a couple of chef/proprietors with especially righteous credentials. Jack Walrond has Grappa on his résumé and Tony Morales Al Forno, which assures us that the kitchen standards are ambitious.

It's a class act all around. Since the seating is on display through a long bank of floor-to-ceiling street-side windows -- one past incarnation was evidently as an auto showroom -- the décor had better be elegant, and it is. Get here without the suggested reservation when it's busy and you'll sit and sip in a large, comfortable area with love seats and armchairs next to the bar.

Graceful black and frosted glass candleholders are on the tables amidst black napkins. The walls are burgundy, and there are muted tapestry colors on the banquette where we sat. The long cushioned seating runs along a divider in scalloped curves rather than in a straight line, giving each table a sense of separateness. The place has come a long way since the time when, in another odiferous trauma, our dining companions Marie and Gary lost their appetites because of a reeking carpet.

If Elizabeth, our knowledgeable and attentive waitress, is typical, service is first-rate. When I recognized an Australia wine I liked and ordered a bottle from their comprehensive list, all I had to say was "Rosemont" and she completed the thought with, "Ah, the Shiraz." As the dinner progressed, despite other tables filling up, she remained alert to plates and platters that were ready to be taken away.

Café Fresco's offering of pizzas is obligatory, considering its wood grill and the influence of Al Forno, where the thin-crusted type was popularized in this country. Of the four choices, we had the Sicilian pizza ($12.99). It advertised goat cheese but had plenty of mozzarella as well as kalamata olives, lemony capers, and an occasional golden raisin -- a jam-packed contrast to the abstract expressionist, minimalist pizzas at chef Morales's culinary alma mater. Other starters range from raw bar and coconut shrimp ($11.99) to pasta fagioli ($3.99).

While I'd heard that the pastas and risottos come recommended, our party all had teeth tingling for entrees with more bite. After a recent conversation with Gary, my weekly lunch pal, about how so many restaurants cook pork to death, I was relieved to see -- and taste -- that his two marinated chops were juicy and medium, as ordered. There was a honey-glazed pear, to boot. My sesame-encrusted tuna ($15.99) came as I like it: very much on the rare side of medium-rare, which I'd specified. The blackened coating nicely protected the interior. The soy and sesame oil marinade was a treat and went fine with the accompanying jasmine rice, and the seaweed "salad" garnish was a tasty inspiration.

Grilled vegetables came with the above and with Marie's veal tenderloin ($16.99) -- underscore the tender. Johnnie's grilled swordfish ($15.99) was fresh and delicious but accompanied by the table's only sour -- I should say salty -- note: a soy sauce marinade far too sodium-packed for even me, who laughs at the prospect of hypertension.

The menu immoderately exclaims, "Don't forget the desserts!" So if you're as immoderate as our quartet, which got three of them, you'll do well here. The crème brûlée ($5.99) was as light as a custard could be. The tiramisu ($4.99) was heavy on the espresso, as I like it, though two at the table would have opted for more Mascarpone. And the "chocolate lava" ($6.99) was as dense and naughty with caloric wickedness as a coven of cocoa beans could ever attain.

If there is a culinary curse on this location, perhaps it can be lifted if we all scrunch our eyes real tight and recite, encouraged by Peter Pan, "I believe in superb cuisine!" If we all do that -- and come here often with lots of money -- Café Fresco and its admirers might be well served.

Bill Rodriguez can be reached at billrod@reporters.net.

Issue Date: October 4 - 10, 2002