Around a rustic wooden table littered with wine bottles, a party of four was whooping it up, the lone male laughing with such joviality I started to howl, too. I had no choice. It was an infectious, booming, hypnotic laugh, the kind that stops your conversation like a passing freight train. He and his friends were trading stories about dating mishaps and weddings gone awry. And they were as happy as fat rats lolling in Swiss cheese.

As the clanking of glasses became more frequent, the conversation (and that laugh!) escalated to decibel levels of epic proportions. It was clear I'd need to shout above the din, that the adjacent couple should do the same and that the glass wall, its front facade safeguarding the stacked logs behind it, might very well explode from the vibrations.

All of a sudden, Via was a party.

The easygoing attitude of a restaurant that allows a mixed crowd to kick back and have a good time is a welcome reprieve from the white-tablecloth Italian restaurants whose Andrea Bocelli soundtracks shush you into a romantic whisper. And Via, with its brothel-red leather chairs, racy red walls and moody lighting, pulsates with energy.

But that wasn't always the vibe that Via evoked. In 2005, when owners Anthony and Venanzio Momo - who also operate Cucina Colore in Cherry Creek - took over the LoDo space that previously held Brasserie Rouge, problematic kitchen and dining room issues required attention.

But kinks, like everything else, are meant to be worked out, and after a series of in- and-out chefs, the brothers Momo brought in James Mazzio, a tremendously talented chef who cinched his pedigree in the culinary world at 15 Degrees in Boulder, a restaurant that earned him a Food & Wine magazine best-new-chef bestowal in 1999.

What a difference a chef makes.

Mazzio's menu, an uncomplicated, honest homage to the well-loved foods of Italy, is neighborhood-friendly, but much more than just a litany of local standbys. It certainly holds its own against the dozens of other Italian restaurant rosters that promise to beguile you with amore.

Here, I trust the love, especially when it's all about the cutting board ($2-$4 per item), an innovative romp through the boot that lets you tick off your own addictions from a scroll of meats (beautiful nests of speck, bresaola and fennel-flecked salami), cheeses (rich and buttery Taleggio and dolce Gorgonzola) and condiments (including roasted red peppers, orange and fig marmalade, grilled artichokes and marinated olives), all of which came propped on a weighty wooden cutting board sided with bread and herb-specked olive oil.

A tomato and peach soup ($3 cup/$6 bowl) was simply brilliant, its lingering sweetness a palpable pleasure. The calamari ($10), a heap of fried squid rings and tentacles, crisp and greaseless and punctuated by a spicy tomato sauce and a pungent pesto, made the persuasive argument that a wearisome dish can still feel new.

Drizzled with a basil-infused olive oil and dotted with capers, black olives and ruby red tomatoes, the burrata ($12), a beggar's purse of soft Italian cheese floating in cream, was like a deliriously good dream. The fonduta ($10), lush and creamy with spinach leaves, slivers of crab, grilled artichokes and melted cheeses, was irresistible.

The tartufo pizza ($14), its thin crust charred, smoky and blistered and mounted with wild mushrooms kissed with white truffle oil, was an exceptional wood-fired, Neapolitan-oven pizza. But the kitchen rushed the roasted pepper and sausage- tarped Salsiccia ($13) pizza, pulling it too soon from the fire. The result was a pale, sodden crust doubling as a slippery slide for the toppings.

A bowl of spaghettini ($16), however, made a much better impression, its herby braised meatballs and savory sausage coins swathed in a lively San Marzano tomato sauce redolent with garlic. Housemade lobster ravioli ($18), bolstered by a sea of rock shrimp and cloaked in a red pepper and cream sauce laced with saffron, tasted luxurious for the first few bites, but as it cooled, so did my lust.

The service at Via is earnest, although not always knowledgeable, especially when we asked about ingredients. A polite shrug, followed by a long jaunt to the kitchen, was the prevailing norm.

Via is not a perfect restaurant, but after four years of growing pains, there's evidence of marked maturity in the kitchen. Now the servers just need to learn what's cooking.

lmidson@gmail.com

Via Italian Trattoria & Bar

* Grade: B+

* Address: 1801 Wynkoop St.

* Hours: 11:30 a.m.-10 p.m. Mon.-Thurs.; 11:30 a.m.-11 p.m. Fri.; 4-11 p.m. Sat.

* Food: Italian

* How much: $3-$12 salads and starters; $11-$14 pizzas; $15-$20 pastas; $16-$29 main dishes

* Noise: Clamorous

* Information: 303-295-1488 or viatrattoria.com

* Parking: Metered street parking; paid garage; valet on weekends ($7)