For years I’ve driven past the red, white and green sign that signals Bella Italia, an Italian eatery in a strip mall on South Virginia. I’ve never gone in and I constantly wondered why not. So, when a friend and I were looking for a new-to-us dinner spot, we decided to give the longtime Reno establishment a try.
Upon first phone call to make a reservation, I had high hopes. The man who answered the phone was gruff with a thick accent. I quickly put down my name and prepared for the meal by making sure I’d have plenty of room to scarf down a plate of pasta come dinner.
