Opia may be the new kid on the block — close to where Hope Street meets Blackstone Boulevard — but its sophistication shows in everything from nice linens to floor-to-ceiling layered draperies and sushi bar items nestled among the salads and calamari. The small restaurant’s bold flower-and-fruit wallpaper is tempered by the light wainscoting beneath it and soft-colored prints of amphora and aqueducts. The overall effect is elegant but homey.

The same can be said of the menu, which doesn’t strictly adhere to the Continental theme of the décor. Witness the sushi, tempura veggies served with the salmon, and seaweed salad with the tuna. But these dabs of Asian inspiration are nicely incorporated into an entrée list that could be considered golden oldies for Providence foodies: grilled salmon, tuna, rack of lamb, or filet mignon; pan-seared duck breast or sea bass; chicken paillard or New York strip steak; shrimp Mozambique and, ta da! a vegetables-only pasta dish.

Our party of three covered the decks, with resident carnivore Bill doing his duty (rack of lamb, $21); friend Ginny choosing the shrimp Mozambique ($19); and me smiling over a plate of sautéed vegetables in a garlic cream sauce ($16). Bill was pleased with the lamb, cooked medium, as he requested, and he loved the creamy mashed potatoes and the red wine sauce. The presentation was vertical, with tiny lamb chops propped upright against the potato mound, and a handful of fried shoestring onions atop the structure. We all tried the onions and extolled their virtues.

Ginny’s shrimp were the bright paprika-enhanced red versions we’ve come to know in Portuguese restaurants, but to me they had little of the pizzazz of garlic, lemon, or cayenne that we’ve also loved in this preparation. They were served over fresh linguini, acquired by Opia from Venda Ravioli, which both Ginny and Bill liked for its just-cooked texture.

The pappardelle with my dish also came from Venda, and it too was minimally cooked, giving it a nice al dente texture in some places, but a rather gummy one in spots where the noodles stuck together. The sauce with the vegetables, which included broccoli, cauliflower, red onions, sweet red peppers, and cherry tomatoes, made up for it. Sharp with garlic, but not too heavy with butter or cream, it was the perfect complement to these veggies.

Our calamari appetizer ($10) was picked from a line-up of familiar options, though each had an unusual touch: shrimp aioli on the crab cakes, tomato-cream sauce on the mussels, crab stuffing for the portobello caps, and a lemon-cream sauce for the grilled scallops. The calamari was refreshingly light, with barely any batter on the rings and a drizzle of balsamic across the mound of them.

Desserts at Opia are not house-made, and we didn’t learn the source of the pastries, but they were such typical items as apple tart, lemon souffle, and chocolate molten cake. The latter two satisfied our longings for something sweet after distressing news came from the battle between Pedro Martinez and the Yankees at Fenway. The cake was served warm with a scoop of vanilla ice cream, and though loath to share much of it, I eventually succumbed to the entreaties of my tablemates.

It seemed odd to us that the restaurant held only our party of three and another party of two during our visit on a Saturday evening. Granted, that Sox game was still going on. But I wonder if one other factor might have kept folks from a return visit. As friendly as our waitress was, she was so poorly trained that we often felt we were doing her job: stacking used dishes and pushing them to the side (and then having to ask her to remove them). There was no serving spoon with the calamari, no replacement of flatware when we needed it and no taking of our dinner order until well after the calamari was long gone. We kept asking ourselves, " How would she manage if the restaurant had been full? "

Opia serves a Sunday brunch with breakfast and lunch items, and a weekday lunch, with sandwiches and pastas. The sandwiches seem a bit pricey at $9 to $11, even if they use the great bread from Seven Stars Bakery just down the street. And the $4 corking fee also seems excessive at this BYOB spot; you’d think the owner would want to encourage people to feel more welcome at a place without a liquor license. But if some of these kinks get ironed out, Opia can become a solid addition to the East Side neighborhood.