Downturn in Upscale Dining Has Not Deterred Antonello

Judging from the empty tables at many of our top restaurants, fine dining is in danger in Orange County. What’s more, there doesn’t seem to be much that a bastion of the genre can do about it.

You can blame the pleasure police, the economy or even Richard Simmons, if you like, but it won’t change a thing. There was a time when you had to call well in advance for a reservation at a restaurant as elegant as Antonello. Now it’s often possible to walk in and be seated immediately at lunch. At dinner, the good tables are no longer the private reserve of well-heeled regulars.

That hasn’t kept longtime Antonello owner Antonio Cagnolo from striving to keep his restaurant appealing. Executive chef Franco Barone revamped the menu last fall. Breads are made on the premises, as are most pastas. As soon as you arrive at your table, you are plied with an addictive cracker bread, a delicious eggplant and pine nut caponata and a tangy Mediterranean olive dip. You’ll want to nibble on them right up to dessert.

Furthermore, Antonello remains one of our attractive restaurants, designed as a stagy, movie set mock-up of a street in Bistagna, Cagnolo’s hometown back in Italy. At lunchtime, the Garden Room is the best place to sit, sunny and further brightened with a new colorful mural. In the evenings, most diners like the tables under the awning of the restaurant’s elaborately constructed mezzanine with its trompe l’oeil facade of a pensione.

There isn’t a great deal surprising about Antonello’s menu, other than the poignant heading at the very top: “cucina nostalgica.” I don’t exactly experience nostalgia eating the cold antipasto assortment (pacciugo di antipasti), but the platter is perfectly delightful, notable for the quality of the components. Who could find fault with top-notch prosciutto, bresaola and salami, firm slices of roasted red pepper, delicate mushrooms perfectly marinated in balsamic vinaigrette, or with carpione, a spread of eggplant expertly pureed with celery?

The hot antipasti are fine, too, though not substantially different from what you find at almost any local Italian joint. There are the giant prawns sauteed with oregano, the obligatory bufala mozzarella (obligingly fresh) and the ubiquitous fried calamari--plenty of them--in a nicely decorated basket.

Antonello’s salads and soups don’t raise any objection unless you’re looking for glimmers of originality. Minestrone alla paesana is a thick potage of garbanzo beans with chard, zucchini and other spring vegetables. The rich pasta e fagioli soup comes chock-full of smoky pancetta. The comforting brodo di pollo e pastina is a clear chicken broth with handfuls of tiny, star-shaped pasta lurking on the bottom of the bowl.

Insalata di mare, one of the restaurant’s star dishes for years, is calamari, shrimp and sea bass tossed with peppers, romaine and a full-flavored herb dressing. Cesare con calamari fritti combines light, crisp pieces of fried squid with the tender inner leaves of romaine. This is an odd idea to begin with, and a weak Caesar dressing doesn’t help it out.

The pastas are served correctly al dente, but in keeping with local tastes, the sauces are applied with a heavy hand. At lunch only, there are Orange County’s lightest gnocchi, tender potato-flour dumplings in a tomato, basil and bufala mozzarella sauce.

Ravioletti di Mamma Pina pay homage to Cagnolo’s mother, but these chewy miniature ravioli are not very interesting in their generic Bolognese meat sauce. (Cagnolo is actually from Italy’s Piedmont region where agnolotti are the favorite stuffed pasta. Oh well, maybe they’ll be on next year’s menu.)

Fusilli con luganega are corkscrew pasta with a coarsely textured homemade sausage, mushrooms, garlic, onions and tomato sauce. Most of the seafood linguine and spaghetti dishes are fine, but even better is a Ligurian-style linguine al pesto with green beans and potatoes complementing the sauce of basil, pine nuts and cheese.

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For his secondi, Cagnolo relies upon good quality beef and veal and a good selection of fresh fish. There is a fine oven-roasted veal chop with porcini mushrooms, a refined veal piccata al limone and the usual parade of ponderous Italian-continental dishes, such as steaks cooked in brandy reductions, that you might find in an Italian farmhouse about once every thousand years.

Desserts are served from an ornate, rolling pastry cart, and many are more French than Italian in spirit. The light, airy cheesecake is topped with fresh raspberries. The profiteroles are Italianized with a zabaglione filling, and the dense cannoli are literally green around the edges from crushed pistachios. My choice for dessert here is always one of the homemade gelati, especially the full-flavored nocciola (hazelnut) or the creamy chocolate. Barone makes ultra-smooth sorbets, too.

One Antonello trademark that hasn’t been affected by the climate of late-’90s eateries is the attentive, fussy service. The crockery and glassware are first-rate, and practically everything is served Continental-style from a cart, on time and with a flourish.

But let’s face facts. These are aspects of dining that most Generation-Xers don’t miss at their favorite low-cost, high-carbohydrate trattoria. And those places fill up every night by 7:30.

Antonello is expensive. Antipasti are $7.75 to 10.50. Pasta are $12.25 to 21.95. Secondiare $19.75 to $26.

* ANTONELLO

* 3800 South Plaza Drive in South Coast Plaza Village, Santa Ana.

* (714) 751-7153.

* Open 11:30 a.m.-2 p.m Monday-Friday; 5:45 p.m.-10 p.m. Monday-Thursday, 5:45-11 p.m. Friday, 5:30-11 p.m. Saturday. Closed Sunday.

* All major cards.