The more things change, the more they stay the same. This may be an adage from the French, but every good Italian restaurant has learned it well. Whether it’s a classic dish or the restaurant itself, what works well needs to stick around through every modification.

The Sunflower Café used to be run under the same name by Providence restaurateur Walter Potenza, of Walter’s and Aquaviva. Three years ago this summer, a new owner quietly slipped in. This was Ezio Gentile, from North End restaurants in Boston, and Abruzzi, Italy, before that. With plenty of time to make the restaurant his own, the offerings may have gotten homier, but the preparations are still well thought-out and executed.

The décor remains cozy, as you’d expect from a place that would look like just another home in the neighborhood if it weren’t for the sign and small parking lot. On the walls are a couple of paintings sporting the restaurant’s floral namesake, along with photographs of quaint, narrow Italian streets. Tables are topped with white tablecloths, since Ezio’s nonna would never seat you at bistro paper as if you were a sloppy child.

Sunflower is wine-centric, with a couple of dozen bottles on display in the small main dining room. One special on the night we were there was a dry and berry-hinting Spadina ($7 a glass/$26 for a bottle), a Sicilian red that held up through tomato sauce. The olive oil in a corked bottle on each table was decent, as was the Italian bread.

Pasta fagioli is always listed, along with a special soup of the day. Our friendly waitress made that day’s stracciatella ($4.25) sound good, so I had a bowl. In the middle of a flavorful chicken broth was a heap of spinach thick with melted Parmesan and egg, obviously made to order and quite good. Besides salads and an antipasto, only four appetizers are on the regular menu, three of them seafood. (Grilled portobello on a bed of mesclun is the sole divergence.) Our party of three shared the scallops al Limoncello ($10), which also included spinach, a steamed complement on the platter. The sweetish liqueur sauce on the half-dozen fat ocean scallops did not smack of lemon, though, which rendered the appetizer rather uneventful.

Pasta and meat dishes, about a dozen of each, comprise the daily main courses. Initially, proprietor Gentile kept most of the original menu, introducing specials to gradually determine what went over well with the regulars. The clay pot cookery for which Potenza is known remains in occasional items, like two that my dining companions ordered, which came to the table bubbling enthusiastically for a considerable time.

Johnnie was attracted by the manicotti ($12) among the chalkboard specials we saw upon entering, in the mood for something simple that she hadn’t had in a long while. When she got a "yes" to her query about whether this pasta was made here, she was convinced. It came in a clay dish rather than a pot, more of a decorative than culinary touch, since slow baking in wet terra cotta was not involved. Johnnie pointed out that the high-sided cooking dish helped keep the temperature even. Whether or not that helped, her manicotti, sheets of pasta rolled around seasoned ricotta, were delicious. The tomato sauce was plentiful and tasty, as it was on our third member’s potato gnocchi alla Caprese ($14). The light little pillows, although not made in-house, were nonetheless marvelous, under well-browned mozzarella, accompanied by plenty of eggplant, in small pieces rather than slices.

Gentile has put his mark on the menu. My scallopine alla Valdostana ($17), for example, was also offered under Potenza, but with lightly breaded veal. Now the thin slices are cooked along with the prosciutto, so that the juices meld and reduce with the white wine. The result is an intense flavor that is the most impressive feature of the dish. When the main event on a plate is so good, the rest can get away with being so-so. Not so here. The sautéed mixed vegetables were fresh and not overcooked, even the zucchini spears. Each pan-fried slice of potato was golden brown.

For dessert, an array brought to our table tempted us with more than a list of names. The cheesecake, carrot cake, and triple-chocolate torte looked delicious. Having been imported by the Italian provider Bindi, they were likely tasty, but previously frozen, so we asked whether there were any kitchen-made treats. Instead of tiramisú, we picked the zuppa inglese, a sort of Italian trifle. It was a good choice. Served in a cocktail glass was white cake with a pastry cream layer and rum-soaked bottom portion. Maraschino cherry halves perched festively around the rim. All desserts are $7.

Sunflower Café is a comfortable restaurant that seems to care about your meal. That practice is not likely to change any time soon.

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