One bite of the sliced filet mignon that accompanied my chopped salad at Sofia was all it took for me to feel a pang of regret. Impeccably seared, juicy and flavorful, the appetizer-size portion was so tasty that I wondered if I had made a mistake by not ordering it as an entree.

Such dilemmas arose frequently on my visits to the five month-old Italian steakhouse in Englewood. If I ate too many of the hard-to-resist fried artichokes, crunchy and garnished with Parmesan slivers and lemon juice, would I have room for the sweet and meaty mussels swimming in a garlicky, zippy fra diavolo sauce?

Which salad was better? The simple one, chopped with frisée and iceberg lettuce, halved cherry tomatoes, diced English cucumbers and crumbled blue cheese in a red wine vinaigrette, or the more complex: shredded black kale with toasted almonds, crumbled ricotta, chunks of avocado and a cracked egg, all tossed in a creamy bundle with olive oil and lemon juice?

And then there was the greediest question of all: Did I really want to share the charred octopus, which had the thickest tentacles I had ever seen?

Everything had spark; I wanted it all. And I was only on the appetizers.

The owner, Eddy Sujak, who co-owns two other restaurants in the Bronx, Giovanni’s and Tosca Café, wants to incite such enthusiasm. “I envisioned an establishment with high-quality food served in an elegant but hip atmosphere,” he said. “You eat great dishes but also have a fun night out.”
 

His two-story space is undoubtedly sleek, with a sultry cigar lounge in the basement and a contemporary, light-flooded dining room on the entry level. The vibe is buzzy, the crowd is good looking, and the food should appeal to all manner of gastronome.

The executive chef, Pasquale Frola, who is from Naples and has worked at various restaurants in New York City, has put thought into every ingredient and aspect of what goes on the table. The produce comes from local farms, and the meats arefrom Wotiz Meat Company in Passaic and Master Purveyors in the Bronx. The seafood is delivered daily from several small fisheries; the oils, cheeses and coarse sea salts are imported from Italy.

The free focaccia is baked throughout the day, and most of the entrees get a turn in a wood-burning oven, infusing them with a gentle smokiness.

Eating those entrees was like eating our way around Italy.

Tender lamb chops drizzled with a full-bodied Sicilian olive oil and served on a bed of roasted tomatoes were akin to any pick at a top-brass trattoria in Tuscany, and the lobster fra diavolo, a two-pound crustacean in a bath of spicy tomato sauce, was a riff on a dish Mr. Frola ate frequently while growing up in Naples.

A whole branzino with crisped skin drew inspiration from the Amalfi coast, the mushroom tortellini in a butter sauce from Piedmont, and the chicken Milanese, an impressive 14-ounce filet topped with a heap of peppery arugula, red onion and Parmesan slivers, was Milan on a plate.

The Dover sole, first pan-seared then wood-oven roasted, was more French than Italian, but no matter. What mattered is that it was buttery, almost silky.

Sides — caramelized baby brussels sprouts, roasted heirloom cauliflower in pretty purple and light orange colors, sautéed escarole, creamed spinach and thick, hand-cut fries — all embellished the main courses.

 

The desserts are made in-house by the pastry chef Glauciene Miscoll, who worked at the popular restaurant Il Buco Alimentari y Vineria in Manhattan, but they are not yet on a par with the rest of the food.

The chocolate mousse lacked the rich texture of a mousse, the pear and chocolate tart in a flaky crust was on the bland side, and the tiramisù had potential, but was hard to enjoy because it was served so cold. The creamy hazelnut gelato, however, was impressive, and the cranberry and walnut biscotti tasted like what you’d find at a cafe in Italy.

I’d say skip the sweets, for now. You probably won’t have room for them anyway.
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A version of this review appears in print on April 24, 2016, on Page NJ8 of the New York edition with the headline: Arrivederci, Palisades: A Culinary Tour of Italy. Order Reprints| Today's Paper|Subscribe