By Frank Sabatini Jr.

Eating restaurant meals constructed with locally sourced ingredients is hardly new. And the wheel of invention for Italian cuisine has long been accomplished. But as Chef Alberto Morreale proves with his new Farmer’s Bottega in Mission Hills, ample room remains for meshing the two while sneaking into the menu a few American-based dishes.

The Sicilian native recently took over the space formerly occupied by Olivetto Ristorante, a double storefront he redecorated with old food crates, some of them containing living herbs, plus chandeliers made from water pipes and a host station utilizing an antique Singer sewing machine.

A smallish bar puts you in eyeshot of a semi-open kitchen and a lighted case stocked with artisan cheeses from nearby Venissimo as well as prized buffalo mozzarella imported from Italy. He also spruced up the back patio, where black-and-white movies will be projected on a brick wall starting next month.

This is Morreale’s second restaurant venture since co-partnering with Fig Tree Café in Hillcrest and Point Loma.

Most of the produce at Farmer’s Bottega originates from Suzie’s Farm, such as the wild arugula and luscious heirloom tomatoes appearing in his panzanella salad. The medley lacked the classic incorporation of crusty bread, appearing in the form of croutons instead. But tangy capers, sweet onions and light, herbal dressing in the construct made it a winner, especially when washed down with Hermit Crab Viognier Marsanne from Australia — one of those sprightly white wines that deserve a farm-fresh salad.

Lean, curly slices of prosciutto di Parma accompanied a starter of buffalo mozzarella, which exceeds the cow’s milk version in flavor and texture. You pay more for it because it’s manufactured throughout Italy under strict regulations. The result is a slight, sour graininess that marries irresistibly to cured meats, such as various salumi Morreale offers from The Meatmen in San Diego as an alternative pairing.

My companion opted for the soup of the day, a super-bright tasting tomato broth stocked with clams and mussels. It was similar to cioppino, an American-Italian seafood stew, but less busy and sans the common kick from red chili flakes.

Other preludes we tried were house-made beef meatballs, baked to perfection with garlic and herbs and served in a well-balanced tomato sauce that tasted straight from my late grandmother’s stovetop.

From the “jars” section, the Fresno chili hummus grew delightfully peppery as we went along, although the Tunisian olive tapenade was too briny for our liking.

A dish of fried green tomatoes is an unexpected starter and expertly prepared. The tangy tomatoes were both firm and juicy, sporting a comforting egg and panko crust that brought to mind good, fried chicken. The disks were served with horseradish crème fraiche, although I had hoped for a much higher radish factor.

An over-sized oval plate was the vehicle for my companion’s main entrée of oxtail ravioli festooned with herbed goat cheese, caramelized onions and expertly roasted cherry tomatoes. The house-made pasta pillows captured plump measures of the shredded, softly braised oxtail bound by eggs and Parmesan.

Morreale supports the delicate, distinguished flavor of the tail meat with an exterior sauce of veal stock and white wine. Everything jived. And despite the remarkable size of the meal, my companion noted it was pleasantly lighter than expected.

I chose flat iron pork, a well-marbled cut originating from between the neck and shoulder that is growing in popularity. In many respects, it’s better than a pork chop given its softer texture. Add to the equation a grilled herb finish, some caramelized apples, a puddle of rich jus and a bedding of mashed butternut squash underneath, and you end up with a pork dinner tasting both novel and familiar.

Other menu options include squid ink risotto, stuffed quail, duck ragout gnocchi and a few flat breads using house-made dough.

Skipping over pecan pie and Julian apple pie for dessert, we instead moved in on kicky, creamy Amaretto tiramisu. Even better was the chocolate “griddle cakes” Napoleon. The dish involves a trio of pancakes layered with fresh cream and berries. The high point is tempered dark chocolate baked into the cakes with more of it drizzled on top. It was love at first bite and a crafty finale that I haven’t seen elsewhere.

The restaurant, open also for breakfast and lunch, lives up to its name by using farm-fresh organics in nearly everything and by the suggestion of operating as a “bottega,” which defines a studio for an artist executing projects with other artists. Here, that studio is a kitchen run by a seasoned chef and his team of pasta makers, bakers and sauciers.

—Contact Frank Sabatini Jr. at [email protected].