La Pinsa, an Italian restaurant that opened mid-January in a renovated shopfront on the corner of Primrose and Kennedy Terraces, is keen to have us forget pizza as we know it and take up pinsa.

Originating in Ancient Roman times as a mixed-grain flatbread, pinsa (from the Latin pinsere, to stretch) is a forerunner of pizza.

After something of a hiatus, pinsa has become a trend in Rome in recent years and is starting to spread around the globe.

Rather than pizza’s wheat flour base, pinsa dough is pounded from a multigrain blend of organic wheat, soy and rice flours.

It’s highly hydrated and left to prove for 36 hours and, at La Pinsa, baked in an imported electric Moretti Forni oven.

The resulting crust is light and crisp and is supposed to be easier to digest.

La Pinsa’s co-owner, chef David Ruggiero, hit on the concept when he took a break from the other restaurant he’s involved with, Colle Rosso, in neighbouring Red Hill, and returned to his home town of Rome last year.

But while pinsa is at the heart of La Pinsa’s menu, it also features bruschetta, salads and pasta.

On a recent Tuesday night, every table of the 65-seat restaurant was taken with a mixed crowd of couples, a large, multi-generational group, and families.

The decor is cheery trattoria-style with bright yellow walls, trailing grape vines, large cut-outs of cutlery, paintings, an Italian flag, and a framed print of the Colosseum and another of the Mona Lisa.

Outside, the bare, faux-wood tables and wooden chairs spill along the sidewalk. Considering the crowd, the service, from a very smiley Italian couple assisted by another woman, is attentive.

Orders are taken promptly and meals delivered with alacrity, all with a bit of chitchat. Bruschetta is the only option of a starter: two slices of homemade organic ciabbata with three topping alternatives – prosciutto, provola (a semi-hard Italian cow’s milk cheese) and anchovies.

Eight pinsas are offered. With two teenagers in tow, we worked through three options: the Diavola ($18), with a tomato salsa base, mozzarella, hot salami and very salty black olives; grilled zucchini and free-range pancetta ($17), and ham, mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes ($18).

All had light, pillowy crusts, with a scattering of ingredients across the thin, airy bases.

House-made pasta is also a feature and diners can choose between gnocchi, spaghetti or penne, and one of six sauces from “norcina” (cream, mushrooms, black truffle, parmesan, garlic and parsley) to gambieri and chilli (prawns with tomato salsa, chilli, garlic and parsley).

Gnocchi topped with a Boscaiola sauce – pork fennel sausage, wild mushrooms and fresh cream – was fine if something of a carb overload.

We also shared a big salad of perfectly fresh fig pieces, buffalo ricotta, red onion, a tangle of rocket and toasted pine nuts, and a vincotto dressing ($10).

Dessert is a choice of tiramisu, cannolo siciliano ($8) – tube-shaped fried pastry dough shells filled with buffalo ricotta custard and sprinkled with chocolate chips – and torta caprese ($9), a wedge of rich, flourless almond and chocolate cake, served warm with whipped cream and scattered petals.

The cannoli were decent enough but served chilled from the fridge, which took the edge off their crispness.

At the moment La Pinsa is BYO, with corkage $3 per person. But the owners have applied for a licence and a couple of dormant beer taps on the counter reveal plans to offer Italian brews such as Menabrea as well as wines, although BYO may continue on some nights of the week.

La Pinsa has a very relaxed, comfortable, neighbourhood atmosphere, is reasonably priced and it’s easy to park. It’s the sort of place most people would love to have around the corner.