I think what most charms me about Mary’s Italian Restaurant is its’ I’ll-do-it-my-way attitude, expectations or practicalities be damned.

Scanning the appetizer list of about a dozen and a half items, I came across at least three examples of this. First, the two "traditional Italian delicacy" offerings are here because they’re family recipes, not because they sell out every night. I may like beef tripe, but it’s famously troublesome to prepare. And along with Mary’s spezzi (sautéed chicken gizzards), it’s an acquired taste that most diners are glad to pass up, thank you. Then there’s the matter of both dishes containing jalapeños, a brashly non-traditional ingredient, an assertion that if Italy knew the tropical hot pepper, wise chefs would adopt it.

The tone is set by Mary Antoch, who turned 83 in April and still comes in every day to make the restaurant’s pies. She started serving people in 1946, when she opened a little pizzeria down the road in Westerly. The present place has been on Route 1 for 18 years, re-opening last year after extensive renovations. Actually, it was more like a total transformation, requiring a closure of nearly four months. That was less inconvenient than it might have been, since Mary’s normally closes for a two-month winter vacation — another victory for independence over cash-register practicality.

We stepped into a different Mary’s, indeed. The near-life-size wooden horse is still there, near the door as a reassuring token that you haven’t walked into the wrong place. Turn from that spacious bar area and the new dining room is chic as well as airy, full of light during the day from windows on three sides. It was chilly, so we were seated near the roaring gas fireplace, next to a tall potted plant. Mary gazed back from a portrait above the mantelpiece, all but whispering "Mangia, mangia."

I had to start with the "wedding soup" ($3.50), the chicken soup I’d enjoyed here in the past. Rice, escarole, and lots of little meatballs and white meat — comfort food that probably started out generations ago with just a few shreds of carrot. Mary’s offers sautéed calamari, but the out-of-state diner with us had a yen for the Rhode Island version; maybe it was all the menu items with "traditional" in their descriptions. The calamari is a definitive version. Fried up like little onion rings with tentacles, tossed with hot pepper rings and garlic — and no accumulating grease. Each version is $9.95. We also had the sautéed spinach aglio e olio ($3.95), a simple and smart addition to the appetizers because it goes with so much, if only as an uncomplicated contrast.

Among the entrées, I was surprised to find that the description of an old favorite of mine, shrimp scampi, no longer contained Pernod and whole cloves of roasted garlic. The current version is two bucks cheaper than a couple of years ago, but I was afraid that the white wine and herbed butter sauce would be haunted by my memory, so I looked further. The Coniglio con pommodori e olive ($21.95) caught my eye, and I smiled because it was listed under the chicken dishes — does every uncommon meat taste like chicken? This was like poultry dark meat, maybe, but scrumptious, slow-cooked with kalamatas, capers, and shallots in white wine and natural juices. Green beans — sautéed, not steamed — were on the side, and a creamy polenta, layered with cannellini beans, was on the plate.

One of my dining companions had linguine with white clam sauce ($16.95), which reminded me why this dish is so popular. With lots of chopped fresh clams, this one would be a good dish even without its eight in-shell littlenecks. Johnnie had the pasta puttanesca ($11.95), choosing capellini. The marinara sauce had too much hot pepper for her. It also had plenty of capers and olives and just the right balance of salt from the anchovies, but I found the angel hair to be overcooked. I thought the linguine was also beyond al dente, but both consumers judged the pasta to be just right, so what do I know?

Johnnie wasn’t about to pass up the apple pie ($5.50 á la mode) that Mary made that morning, along with coconut cream. Our companion had some peach sorbet ($6.95), served in the frozen hollowed-out fruit. Both declared themselves satisfied. For me, the spumoni ($8.25). Instead of the candied fruit being rock-hard, frozen along with the four flavors (including pistachio, my favorite), I was treated to the chewy morsels between ice cream layers. Well, slap my forehead and thaw my fruitcake. Yum.

Including Mary, son Curly, and daughter-in-law Paula, a half dozen family members are busy running this establishment. This may not be one of those tiny restaurants that are the next thing to sitting at somebody’s kitchen table. But with the matriarch looking down from over the fireplace, and her well-trained family setting the tone, they sure make you feel at home.

Bill Rodriguez can be reached at billrod@ reporters.net