It used to be that options for a nice dinner in West Seattle were pretty limited. If you didn't feel like ogling the glittering skyline over a plate of king crab legs with the tourists and prom kids at Salty's, you were pretty much forced to venture into the city. Sure, there were places like Phoenicia and La Rustica, but the proud people of West Seattle wanted more, closer to home. With the growth of the neighborhood came all the usual trappings—townhouse favelas, a tooth-and-claw struggle for parking, and a blossoming of restaurants offering more than your usual ham and cheese on white bread. And while the Blackbirds and JaK's Grills of the world were fun for us locals, they weren't really worth a trip across the bridge for the denizens of the rest of the city. But with the opening of Beàto ("blessed" in Italian), West Seattle has an honest-to-goodness new destination restaurant.

The osteria and wine bar occupies a nondescript, small building that was formerly the home of two small, nondescript restaurants that didn't last long in the wasteland of real-estate offices and apartment complexes between the Alaska and Admiral junctions. Inside, however, the space is warm and welcoming, cozy without being claustrophobic. No more than 15 tables, a sedate bar that's wise enough to know it doesn't need to compete with the restaurant for attention, dark wood tables, cream-colored walls with evocative photos of lakes and slightly out-of-focus buildings. An unadventurous blend of late REM, the Decemberists, and middle-of-the-road slow jams provides a perfectly bland backdrop to the perfectly exhilarating food.

We begin with the piatto misto ($12), a small plate of cured meats, cheeses, kalamata olives, roasted garlic, and a dollop of heavenly artichoke paste. Our attentive and knowledgeable server, Ron, describes the Fra'mani salametto as having a hint of clove, but I can't taste it. Still, its salty, robust flavor has us fighting over the last piece with one hand and with the other fending off each others' thrusts on the grape-leaf- wrapped, white-wine-soaked, cave-aged Vineyard Tomme from Estrella Family Creamery in Montesano. After devouring this rich yet delicate cheese, I decide that I'll eat pretty much anything that's been sitting in a cave for 60 days.

A plate of beet gnocchi ($14) comes with a fistful of delectable little pillows of beet and potato purée, cabernet colored, topped with a generous portion of house-made chicken sausage. The combination of the slightly sweet gnocchi with the zesty, coriander-flavored sausage leaves us again locked in bitter struggle for the last bite.

Our entrées arrive with a flourish as the candles flicker and a strong gust of wind rattles the trees outside. The pan-seared albacore ($18) wears its garland of green garlic purée, olives, and tomato oil with the serene detachment of the coolest kid in the room. While not as rare as I'd like (or as advertised), the tuna flakes apart, still juicy and tasting ever-so-faintly of the sea. The bright, metallic tang of the olives overwhelms the comparatively modest flavor of the tuna, so I push them to the side and eat them all in one bite after finishing the fish.

The grilled lamb loin ($19) rests voluptuously on a bed of tender cipollini onions and smoky sweet Harvard beets. The vegetables are just sideshows, however, compared to the immaculately cooked lamb with its flavors of young, sprouting grass; mint; and just a hint of sharp pepper.

The portions at Beàto are not large, but the plates, especially in combination, are deceptively filling. And there's something to be said for a dinner in which one can have appetizer, pasta, and entrée, while still remaining excited about dessert. Our server is also excited about dessert, and his enthusiasm persuades us to order both the signature chocolate ravioli ($7) and the rhubarb basbousa ($6).

The bitter, dark ravioli, stuffed with sweet mascarpone and dates, proves so complex that it's tempting to spend an hour with it, taking progressively smaller bites until one comes to understand its true nature. However, this proves impossible, as we find ourselves staring all too soon at an empty plate. The rhubarb basbousa, a semolina cake topped with sweet, somewhat flavorless rhubarb, turns into mush as the scoop of crème fraîche gelato melts. It's decidedly drab, but I imagine it would have fared better had the ravioli not been so transcendent.

Beàto prides itself on pairing wine and food, and they boast both a regular and a reserve wine list. The Umbrian wine flight of the week ($19) provides good company throughout the meal, despite a pedestrian first glass of Chardonnay. A vibrant 2005 Sportoletti Assisi Rosso bursts with cherry and raspberry and goes down much too easily. But it's the explosive Paola Bea 2000 Montefalco Rosso Riserva (a blend of Sangiovese, Sagrantino, and Montepulciano) that's truly transporting, filling me with a slightly sodden benevolence that stays with me the rest of the night.

Beàto has arrived at just the right time in West Seattle's history. The neighborhood is ripe for a classy, unpretentious, upscale restaurant that prides itself on doing things right. But Beàto isn't just for the locals; soon the whole city will be traversing the sweeping concrete arc of the West Seattle Bridge to visit this neighborhood restaurant.