Like the Godfather Part II, Connie’s Italian Diner is a case of the sequel pipping the original.  

In this case, it’s the evolution of Connie’s Pizza by the Slice – the hole-in-the-wall purveyor of fat slices of New York-style pie inside dive bar Heartbreaker. That cheesy hit has been the saviour of many a reveller into the witching hour and now Michael and Zara Madrusan, the bar tsars also behind the Everleigh and Bar Margaux, have moved the party upstairs.

A fully-fledged Italian-American-style trattoria channelling some serious `80s vibes, Connie’s is steeped in nostalgia. The fit-out is pure Lygon Street cosplay. Tables are covered in a triplicate of red and white gingham tablecloth, butchers’ paper and a layer of clear plastic. A multi-coloured glass pendant hangs over each red leather-upholstered booth. Black and white portraits of nonna (Michael Madrusan’s, apparently) grace the front desk while retro posters (hello, Madonna) line the walls. Its stage set antics are beguiling, although the spoof Spartacus playing on loop on one wall is either amusing or incredibly distracting.

Don’t be lulled into thinking this is your cheap and cheerful night out, CBD-style. Devised by Bar Margaux sommelier Tom Smith, the tight wine list will not bring comfort to those who like to order the second cheapest bottle on the list (that said, the $95 Murgo Etna Bianco is all delicious honeyed minerality). Better value can be found in jugs of Americano cocktails and the excellent pre-batched classic cocktails that have made their way up the stairs.

But neither are we talking matchstick ham on pizza and red sauce pasta. Chef Matteo D’Elia adds his Michelin-seasoned pizzazz to a menu with more colour and shade than the surroundings let on. Which is why we’re recommending that the pizza – a thick deep pan slab, scoring big on the likeability scale – be benched to direct your firepower elsewhere. Like the truffled arancini, which D’Elia has turned a devilish black with activated charcoal; swipe trough pungent aioli for twice the truffled fun. Or the zeppole, the fried doughnut balls of southern Italy, treading a savoury path with an anchovy-forward bagna cauda. A dainty vitello tonnato is another worthy contribution to the canon, pressganging soused red onion and fried capers to up the salty-sour texture quotient. 

Pasta? Si. Penne alla Norma is a textbook tribute to Sicilian favourite, all fiery sugo and shavings of smoked ricotta with the silken heft of fried eggplant. Or cast off for a main of pippies and mussels in a hugely garlicky white wine broth that might cruel your chances of making new friends if you head back downstairs to Heartbreaker. 

It pays to order widely, but a word to the wise: ask to have the meal staggered unless you want everything dumped on the table at once. 

But there’ll be no kvetching about dessert, which could head in the direction of a tira misu sundae – all whirls and swirls of caffeinated soft serve – or the elegance of a red wine poached pear peppered with little white chocolate-coated puffs. 

Don’t be fooled by the disco balls. There’s serious intent behind Connie’s party girl spirit. Try to resist the honeytrap lure of the pizza and reap the rewards. 

Related review: Melissa Leong reviews Melbourne’s hottest restaurant right now