Few of the old-school Italian restaurants remain in San Francisco's North Beach neighborhood — the kind of places where the waiters wear red jackets, the wine list is bound in leather and the menu's size makes it hard to see one's tablemates.

As if to accentuate their difference from the down-market chianti-bottle-and-checkered-tablecloth trattorias, this tier of restaurant is dolled up and serious. The décor ranges from dark and clubby with starched white napery to softly lighted pale pink with giant floral accents and Roman blinds. The host, in a snazzy suit, works the room, getting especially chatty with some patrons while others get only the "polite" treatment. A certain kind of faded elegance prevails.

All the old standbys are on the menu: the generous antipasto platters, a list of at least two dozen pastas and a passable osso buco. For dessert, there's spumoni or tiramisù or creamy made-to-order Marsala-spiked zabaglione.

Vanessi's was one of those restaurants, prominently situated on the flashing neon Broadway strip with burlesque joints as neighbors. A block over was Enrico's, a lively sidewalk cafe good for people watching. Around the corner, Tommaso's pizzeria still stands, as well as the dark and dim Tosca Cafe, which has a jukebox that plays opera and serves boozy coffee drinks from an ornate antique espresso machine.

Though Vanessi's didn't quite make it into the 21st century, it was always packed and buzzing in its heyday. There were upholstered stools along a counter by the open kitchen, a great place for the single diner to enjoy the view of the stoves. Half the fun was watching those seasoned cooks maneuver multiple sauté pans and the drama of the flames as wine or liquor was poured with flair into a sauce.

Traditional veal dishes cooked à la minute were a specialty, like scaloppine with lemon and capers or the signature saltimbocca, with sage, prosciutto and fontina. Both were good, but the saltimbocca (its name means to "jump in the mouth" with flavor) was more satisfying. Each bite was herby, hammy and cheesy, and the pan sauce made with veal stock was sticky and rich.

That sort of saltimbocca is a restaurant dish, but at home on a weeknight, a chicken breast version makes a very tasty facsimile. Pound the chicken and marinate it in a mixture of chopped sage, garlic and olive oil, then brown it quickly before it goes under the broiler with cheese and a slice of prosciutto. Fried sage leaves make a savory garnish. There's no sauce. Wilted spinach is the best accompaniment by far. Actually, it fits right in with the current nostalgic trend toward retro Italian-American cooking.

by David Tanis / The New York Times