And Such Large Portions

Mama Rose in Costa Mesa is a personal sort of restaurant. You wouldn’t mistake it for anyplace else.

It’s like a private home, this Kermit-green building on the quiet stretch of Newport Boulevard bisected by the 55 Freeway. And East Coast transplants Richard and Elaine Lombardi aren’t at all shy about showing you their family history. There are family snapshots and memorabilia in all three of its cozy dining rooms (each of which has its own decor scheme).

That alone makes the place highly personal, but on top of that there is the Lombardis’ exuberant, over-the-top cooking. It’s sure to be controversial, but nobody will be able to deny that it’s unique, at least around here. You can’t find the likes of it anywhere else in Orange County.

In short, the Lombardis believe in the abbondanza style of Italian cooking, only taken to the max: huge portions, loads of melted cheese, whole cloves of garlic, enough oil to fill your tank. Don’t come hungry to Mama Rose--come ravenous. This kitchen has no brakes.

The decor of the rooms has some of the kittenish charm of a bed and breakfast: frilly lace curtains, a rose-colored carpet, cute bric-a-brac. The back dining room (done all in red) is the New York Room. The middle room, which has dried roses hanging from a ceiling trellis and rose-patterned wallpaper, is the Rose Room.

My wife and I asked to be seated in the tiny, four-table Polish Room, the name of which pays homage to Mrs. Lombardi’s Polish ancestors. Any Slavic connection ends right there, though. From the moment we were seated, we were hearing Italian oldies like “Cella Luna, Mamma Mia,” and “Everybody Loves Somebody Sometime,” sung by Dean Martin on the sound system. There was even an old Jerry Vale tune before the evening was over.

Once you’re seated, a waitress brings you a basket of garlic bread and a slice of orange, which sits in a pool of herbed olive oil. The idea is that you eat the orange first, to cleanse your palate, and then mop up the citrus-scented oil with the garlic bread. It’s a nice touch.

Before the main menu arrives. you’re handed a list of hot and cold antipasti. The best cold appetizer is easily the roasted peppers, which are served with caramelized cloves of garlic, pine nuts and the oddball touch of a few raisins.

My favorite hot appetizer is stuffed oven-dried tomatoes, because it’s flavorful and easy to deconstruct. What you get here is four dried Roma tomatoes, which I find delicious all by themselves. Well, fuggeddabouddit, pally--it doesn’t stop there. The tomatoes are topped with a generous clump of goat cheese and a huge chunk of broiled Italian sweet sausage on top of that.

And mind you, that’s one of the more austere appetizers. Instead of the tomatoes, you could order eggplant Mama Rose, in which case you’d better not plan on an entree. This dish is thick slices of breaded eggplant served two ways: topped with rich, flavorful marinara sauce (and a liberal dusting of pecorino cheese) and completely blanketed with powdered sugar, which manages to give eggplant the character of French toast.

There are baked clams, deliciously smothered with sliced onion, garlic and parsley. They have a nice chewy freshness, but there must be a good inch of oil at the bottom of the casserole dish they’re presented in. Why the chef clobbers these clams with so much oil is anyone’s guess.

Oil can be a problem with a few of the pastas as well. One night I had pasta piselli, tossed with fresh peas. It could have been delicious but for an unappetizing excess of oil in the bowl.

The spaghetti puttanesca is much better. It has a fairly classic puttanesca sauce, which combines San Marzano tomatoes and extra-virgin olive oil with olives, capers, garlic and anchovies. There is also a delicious lasagna, which fairly crowds its casserole dish. The layers of pasta have a thick filling of ricotta and ground meat, and then the whole shebang is covered with an enormous mass of melted cheese.

Mama Rose is proud of its authentic Caesar salad, which, as the waiters are quick to point out, contains no anchovies, just like Caesar Cardini’s original recipe. However, this garlicky salad is enfeebled by a watery dressing and an excessive ration of grated cheese. Personally, I’d have the red onion and tomato salad instead, because the components are not overwhelmed by dressing.

Chicken is served in giant, boneless hunks, lightly breaded and covered with a variety of sauces. Chicken Parmesan comes with a thick Bolognese sauce, and chicken piccata has a nicely lemony sauce flavored with capers, white wine and garlic, the ever-present herb in this kitchen.

Next time I order a rib eye steak, I’m going to ask the kitchen to lose the pecorino cream sauce, which covers the steak completely and totally obscures the beef flavor. I do, however, quite like the well-prepared pistachio-crusted rack of lamb.

All desserts at Mama Rose are homemade, down to the three-color spumoni (quite good). The most unusual choice is pistachio pie, which is filled with pale green pistachio-flavored pastry cream, topped with rich sour cream. Mama Rose also makes cannoli, crunchy tubes of pastry with a frothy filling of ricotta spiked with chocolate bits.

Whew! Did those slender young people in the family pictures grow up eating like this?

I wouldn’t bet on it.

Mama Rose is moderate to expensive. Appetizers are $7 to $9. Pastas are $9.95 to $12.95. Main dishes are $12.95 to $19.95.

BE THERE

Mama Rose, 2346 Newport Blvd., Costa Mesa. (949) 650-1949. Open for dinner only, 5-10 p.m. Tuesday-Saturday. American Express, MasterCard and Visa.