ittle Italy's over-gentrification has turned a neighbourhood once filled with character and charm into a vapid stretch of overpriced lounges and pan-Asian cuisine. We sighed at the closing of Cucina, a place that itself contracted the trendiness disease, but one that at least boasted more Italian charm than many of its College Street brethren. We thought for sure it would be replaced by a martini bar or, worse yet, a Starbucks (two within blocks is the norm in a neighbourhood like this). Eventually a sign went up for a new place called "Marinella" with a tagline that promised "simply Italian". Could it be, an Italian restaurant on College without gimmicks or pretensions?

Not quite, but it's close. Ironically enough, despite its intensely Italian heritage, Marinella seems to be at odds with the neighbourhood's current identity. By avoiding the impulse to exploit current fads the restaurant avoids some of Little Italy's most reviled characteristics. Rather than trying to stand out with glitz, Marinella attracts its business with good old-fashioned tasty Italian food. "Running a restaurant isn't just about money," explains co-owner John Soraci. "A lot of blood, sweat and tears go into it. You have to love the business or you won't last."

Soraci preaches hospitality above all else and it shows in the restaurant's business model. Marinella is first and foremost a family operation. The kitchen is run by John's immigrant mother Maria (the titular Marinella) and his brother Pino. John himself stands behind the bar. Meanwhile, the design was put together by friends of the family. But the restaurant wasn't created in a vacuum. In fact, the place already existed for 14 years at the corner of Widmer and Adelaide. In those 14 years, they built up a loyal web of customers, most of whom were on a first name basis with the Soraci family. When a condo kicked them out of their lodgings (isn't that always the way?), Marinella had to find a new home in Little Italy.

While the welcoming vibe is still apparent, the new Stephen Arthurs design is more New York-trendy than it is Calabria-friendly. The interior hits you over the head with its sleekness; it's much more fancy and elegant than you'd assume. The entire space is instantly visible upon first entrance. A long granite bar and a large chef's table occupy the entire left side of the interior, while the right side is made up of perfectly-aligned dining tables. The straight line motif creates a striking sense of sharpness. Chandeliers and original sconces augment the romantic candle-lit table setting while eye-level windows offer a panoramic view of College and Grace. It's the kind of thing that will either impress you or intimidate you right out the door.

But there's nothing to be afraid of; not much on the menu will truly challenge your palette. Chef Maria Soraci grew up in the Calabrian region of Italy and she sticks to her roots as much as possible. Even the Greek Salad, a staple of the menu at the old location, has been removed to spotlight authentic Italian cooking. Pastas are all homemade and use fresh seasonal ingredients. The Rigatoni ($12 for small, $17 large), for instance, is made with homemade Italian sausage, while Fettucine de Mare ($22 small, $29 large) comes with scallops, shrimp, Alaskan king crab legs, and lobster.