There’s something to be said for black vest restaurants, which make you feel like you’re easing into a night at La Scala. But when all is said and done, if you could indulge in only one Italian restaurant for the rest of your life, wouldn’t it be a place that makes you feel like you’re right at home?

There are several big league restaurants on Federal Hill, along with up-and-coming culinary training camps. My heart, though, has always been with Casa Christine. It’s a family restaurant, not in the sense of kids underfoot, but how it’s run by Chris and Bill Calise and their offspring. Bill Sr. handles the kitchen with sons Bill Jr. and Steve, while Christine and assorted relatives — daughter, daughter-in-law, son-in-law, and occasional grandkid – serve the tables.

The statuary and gold-accented décor, Italian-America rococo, has always warmly reminded me of my dear Aunt Teresa’s living room in Fairlawn, New Jersey. My favorite description of the place, by the friend who first brought me there: edible opera. At Casa Christine, family photos on a mantelpiece add a friendly touch, but the real welcome happens in the front dining room. An entertaining floor-to-ceiling mural on two adjoining walls depicts a Roman toga party, goblets, and grapes galore. Appropriately, this is the smoking section.

Adding further informality is how the menu is presented solely on whiteboards, a vestige of diner days. With the exception of a few items, the appetizer list during my visit offered a smorgasbord of distinct taste combinations, most priced at $6.95. For example, there were radicchio leaves filled with pieces of marinated artichoke hearts, mushrooms, fresh mozzarella, and olives. Adding diced prosciutto, tomatoes, and onions on garlic toast (and using Great Northern beans instead of the traditional, but less flavorful, cannelloni), optimized the simple peasant dish of white beans on bread.

I was here with a foodie pal from out of town, a fellow carnivore, so I suggested the spezzatella. Out came a bowl of what was essentially veal stew, with peas — al dente rather than mushy — and chunks of portobellos instead of potatoes. The thick gravy, which left a mild cayenne glow at the back of the throat, was good for sopping bread.

Seventeen or 18 main dishes are listed on a marker board, depending on when the writer runs out of room, as well as on what the markets yield and kitchen whims that day. Interesting items, listed in no particular order, during our visit ranged from salmon filet topped with baby shrimp scampi ($17.50) to a grilled veal T-bone chop ($19.75) with artichoke and roasted red pepper, and a burgundy cream sauce.

Most dishes come with or on pasta. My friend pooh-poohed my taste for something as unadventurous as shrimp scampi ($14.95), when I spied it among the offerings. He got with the program when he tasted one of the three fat, fresh shrimp that had just the right garlic accent. (Sometimes the scampi is two bucks more, when it comes with four shrimp.) The linguini had just the right bite, and the drenching of butter and olive oil was nicely balanced. A roasted red pepper and several flavorsome calamata olives were bonuses on my plate.

My companion didn’t do so badly himself. Jerry comes from north of Boston, so the veal sauté arrabbiata ($18.95) was unfamiliar, and thereby tantalizing, to him. Pasta dishes alla arrabbiata — which means "angry" in Italian — are menu fixtures in Rhode Island, but I usually don’t order them myself because the red pepper hotness can blowtorch away other flavors. Not here, though. The delicate taste of the Provimi veal came through the tomato sauce. On the side, so that its simple marinara sauce could be a mild contrast, was a small plate of penne. Nice touch.

Only one dessert — kitchen-made, of course — was offered. That made me smile, recalling how Bill Calise would sometimes make only a limited supply of off-menu desserts, such as his heavenly crème brûlée, for regulars. That was back in the late ’80s, when the breakfast and lunch diner Christine’s Frittata House was a haven for the culinary cognoscenti. The fresh fruit tart ($4.50) we ordered brought it all back. Blackberries and currants, with a thin mascarpone layer above a buttery crust. Deliscioso.

If you check out Casa Christine, you might want to do so at lunch. That’s when the portions, though still generous, are more manageably portioned. Most of the dinner items are available at lunch prices. When both the appetite and the pocketbook are satisfied, you really do feel like family.