Paccheri with quail, mushrooms and blueberries

Photograph: Jeff Gurwin

New York’s spaghetti-slinging, scaloppine-frying Italian chefs are officially bored. How else to explain the legions of traditionalists who’ve lately been trading in regional authenticity for auteur cuisine? Alloro chef Salvatore Corea—who built a modest following at the straightforward Cacio e Pepe downtown—is the latest victim of this epidemic of eccentricity. His wildest impulses are on display at his new Upper East Side trattoria, a miniature storefront done up—from the place mats to the sconces to the awning out front—in a riot of emerald green (the food, mercifully, doesn’t match the décor). Though many dishes sound outrageous on paper, the execution for the most part is comparatively tame. The cocoa sauce served with a seared-shrimp starter is a balanced streak—not at all sweet—and a surprisingly good match for the well-seasoned gamberi. His fine eggplant Parmesan offers a traditional version (a delicious earthy timbale) alongside a modern deconstruction (cold whipped eggplant mousse beside a sharp Parmesan chip and an oozing nugget of fried mozzarella). His paccheri pasta (oversize tubes) with shredded quail, preserved truffles, porcini and blueberries is rich and lusty—and wouldn’t raise eyebrows if he’d left out the superfluous fruit (they’re subsumed by the other strong flavors). For a tiny neighborhood restaurant, the dessert selection is huge. Among the ambitious sweets are crisp cannoli filled with thick espresso mousse and a hearty raisin-studded pear strudel with creamy Gorgonzola gelato that’s like a cheese course in reverse. Despite the unusual food, the restaurant—with its eager-to-please chef prowling the dining room—feels quite down-to-earth.