It occurred to me the other night while walking to dinner on the Upper West Side that every neighborhood in this city is like a little hamlet or town. And as such, each one comes with its own Main Street and its own set of required retail offerings. Let’s call them the RROs. There’s the Duane Reade, where you’ll pick up your drug store necessities and maybe a tabloid and a tube of Chapstick at the checkout counter. There’s the nail salon (or ten) where you’ll “pick color” and have your toes and fingers refreshed every week or so. There’s the Laundromat/dry cleaner where you’ll schlep every Saturday, buried in button downs and suits, lugging a large lumpy bag for the wash and fold service.

There’s the Chinese joint where you’ll order a carton of General Tso’s and fried rice from on those rainy nights when that red envelope from Netflix has arrived in your mailbox. There’s a Japanese/Thai/Indian place that will fill in when you’ve tired of your MSG headache.

There’s also the local bar, where you’ll find a booth or a stool to call your own and a bartender who will know that you’ve just had a baby and that five o’clock is the time when she’s fussy and needs a walk in her stroller to find a bit of sleep for her and a pint of beer for you and your husband.  And let’s not forget the coffee shop. Hopefully something other than one bearing a mermaid in its logo, where writers and bloggers congregate among mommies, nannies and herds of bugaboo babies for cups of locally roasted coffee and freshly baked morning pastries. Finally, there's the Italian restaurant. In my neighborhood in Brooklyn it’s Lunetta, or Vinnie’s if I’m feeling old school. And on the Upper West Side, every pocket seems to have their own. In the West Eighties along Amsterdam, it’s a new place called Bar Luna.

The restaurant, which has a lovely bar up front—ideal for meeting for a casual drink and snack—opened a few weeks ago in the former Neptune Room space. It’s been smartly redesigned by Glen Coben so that the narrow room feels wide and airy, with rustic touches you’d expect from an Italian spot: weathered walls, hardwood floors, and heavy wooden tables. But there’s a modern sheen to the space as well that breathes some life into what might otherwise be a fairly ubiquitous room. There are pops of color, there’s an elegant arched ceiling in the style of a sleigh, there are terra cotta tiles, and an eye-catching glass enclosed wine room. Nice.

Bar Luna comes from someone who knows the neighborhood. Owner Turgut Balikci opened Bella Luna on 88th and Columbus twenty years ago and his follow up is a similar crowd pleaser under chef Jacques Belanger, a chef who’s worked under Tom Valenti for the past six years. Belanger is joined by Richard Bill, also from the Valenti school, so the place has a warm vibe, good food and wine at great value. It’s a recipe that’s makes Bar Luna an RRO for this pocket of the UWS.

We started with some crostini, served with warm slices of baguette and toppings scooped into small white dishes, like ice cream. If you’re hungry, these are great to order for the table while looking over the menu or wine list. Steven, Kiri and I loved the chicken liver, which is smooth and rich, and slightly sweet thanks to a touch of maple syrup of all things and let me tell you, this is brilliant. It’s nothing like the one my Bibi made, topped with chopped egg and caramelized onions, but it’s divine. I’d eat it for breakfast off of French toast. Fava bean puree is very well seasoned and given a nutty tang from pecorino, and a fluffy dollop of ricotta plays well with artichokes folded into it.

Of the first courses, our favorite was unanimous: grilled spears of asparagus topped with a beautifully poached egg sprinkled with herbed breadcrumbs and slivers of briny white anchovies ($9). It was seasoned perfectly, the egg was runny, and the breadcrumbs added the right texture. It’s nice when all these notes are hit squarely on the head. A puddle of creamy soft polenta ($10) is served with a wild mushroom ragu so meaty and flavorful I was sure there was a bit of beef or pork tucked in there somewhere. But no. Just the mushrooms. His octopus salad ($8) tastes like something you might find at a Michael Psilakis restaurant: it’s bright and light, and very Greek in flavor tossed with fennel, cherry tomatoes and plump kalamata olives.

In between first and second courses we shared a bowl of Tagliatelle Bolognese ($14), which is fine, but Valenti’s is better. This one could use a bit more seasoning and depth of flavor. It tastes like a quick sauce rather than one that’s been simmering for hours. Veal Milanese ($19)—the Wiener Schnitzel of Italy—is quite nice and generous in size. Two large golden cutlets, pounded thin and fried so the breading was crunchy, are served in traditional fashion topped with a lemony arugula salad, cherry tomatoes and shaved Parmesan.

The halibut is surprisingly good—poached in olive oil and outfitted with a cloak of crispy prosciutto resting on a delicious mound of salt cod brandade shaped like a crab cake ($17). It’s a tad too salty but the flavors are really terrific with the halibut, a fish that sort of the tofu of the sea. Skirt steak ($18) will also please, nicely cooked and served sliced on the bias and drizzled with a vibrant salsa verde with a simple salad of juicy tomatoes and onions on the side.

Desserts could use some work. They really seem like an afterthought—a panna cotta, a fudge brownie with vanilla ice cream, and a cheesecake drizzled with strawberry coulis. They’re really nothing to waste your calories on. And you don’t need to. There’s probably a really good bakery nearby. It’s an RRO. Every neighborhood has one.

Bar Luna is located at 511 Amsterdam Avenue, between 84th and 85th Streets, 212-362-1098.

Andrea Strong