It's Ciao Time at Lucia!

That first luscious bite immediately began to block out less-than-stellar memories of what it means to eat Italian cuisine. These luscious spaghetti noodles were speckled with black pepper, silky with cream sauce and decadently topped with earthy flakes of shaved truffles.

Just like my college Italian language courses replaced their high school Spanish counterparts, I now have trouble remembering why I’ve avoided Italian restaurants all these years. Tucking into the first of two tangerine-sized meatballs slathered in signature pink sauce (think creamed tomato sauce here), the tender bite pushes the last of my bad spaghetti experiences somewhere deep in the Mariana Trench.

Like the Frank Sinatra film flickering its black and white elegance above the Lucia fireplace, the plate of spaghetti and meatballs has been elevated from a country high school prom to an Ol’ Blue Eyes Hollywood love story.

“I have customers come in for our spaghetti four or five times a week,” swears Lucia owner Mike Halter.

Looking around, I couldn’t identify a single person large enough to have possibly consumed the sheer quantity of calories that must be present in a dish this tasty at the rate he is claiming. It wasn’t until my server informed me that there are no calories in Lucia’s spaghetti and meatballs (wink, wink) that I understood how this claim might be true.

Kirkland residents might remember the Italian restaurant in Park Place as “Mama Lucia,” an establishment that goes back a couple of decades to 1988. Mike bought the restaurant from his brother in 2007, transforming the old world decor and small space into a larger more modern restaurant. The original space still boasts some of the framed family photos and Italian scenes that seem to dominate dining rooms of the boot-state persuasion. However, the alternation of slate gray and persimmon colored walls with espresso black wood accents, a wall-mounted fireplace and two gray wing-backed chairs holding down a lighter gray shag rug bring chic contemporary charm to Lucia.

It is not the sort of restaurant that lives off the fame of some Top Chef wannabe personality. Lucia is a true family affair. All of the dishes, which are more like Italian-Northwest fusion than strictly Italian, come from the recipes developed by Mike Halter’s mother, Caterina Gargagline, who immigrated from the Calabrian town of Altomonte to attend college in the United States. Though she had always cooked, it wasn’t until her eyesight could no longer handle the intense focus needed by a master tailor, her profession in Portland, Oregon, that she made the switch to professional cook.

She met and married Jack Halter, owner of the popular cafe Barney Bagels and Susie Cream Cheese. Together, Jack and Caterina have opened many restaurants over the years. Caterina studied under New Orleans master chef Paul Prudhomme, who back in the 1980’s charged $3,000 per day for the privilege. He took to Caterina instantly and invited her to stay a month at no charge.

Because of his mom’s amazing cooking pedigree, Mike laughs saying, “None of my friends’ moms wanted to cook for me when I was a kid.”

Though Jack and Caterina are no longer married, they raised two sons and a daughter who are keeping the family’s future buoyant. Mike never imagined going into the “family” business. He took a corporate job with Spring PCS after high school. But the food industry has a way of reclaiming its own.

Mike found himself as a young assistant manager for Wolfgang Puck Cafe and then, returning to his roots, became the general manager for Mama Lucia. When asked what is great and what is hard about being a restaurant owner, Mike answered with one word for both.

“Everything. It’s all about moments in the restaurant industry. One moment you get the news that something has broken. The next moment you’re enjoying interacting with customers who love your food.”

And the food is great. The caramelized pear and onion pizzetta rich with walnut halves and Gorgonzola cheese could be a meal all by itself, though it would be a crime to miss out on so many other delicious choices. Sweet chunks of tomatoes in a garlic forward mixture top crisped rounds of sliced baguette; the bruschetta (bru-SKET-ta) showcasing the cook's confident application of balsamic vinegar at Lucia.

A thick cut of filet mignon with garlic mashed potatoes and roasted vegetables is complimented by Madeira cream sauce that tastes remarkably like an Indian curry, heady with spicy warmth.

The potato gnocchi with short ribs could easily be called Italian beef bourguignon, so reminiscent is it of the French dish with its red wine reduction and tender hunks of meat. Each bite of the soft, pillowy gnocchi made me want to pile up another forkful.

From pasta dishes like pasta prosciutto with peas and white truffle oil to entrees like the saffron risotto and the chicken cannelloni, there is truly something for everyone here. And, of course, customers just have to try the Lucia’s signature spaghetti and meatballs at least once in this lifetime to consider it a life well-lived.

Though everyone was pushing the restaurant's peanut butter pie as the best dessert choice, we opted for the lighter sounding chocolate souffle; an inverted cup of chocolatey cake complete with the ooey-gooey chocolate center.

Mike and his wife Megan do their share to serve as a congenial and welcoming human compliment to the food--not to mention gracing patrons with magazine-cover good looks. Asking to see a photo of their almost-two-year-old daughter Peyten could score you with a few extra seconds of table-side attention.

Having grown up in Kirkland, Mike praises this town and is excited that it is finally becoming more progressive in terms of businesses and restaurants. The desire to raise a family in a place other than L.A. is one of the main reasons he returned here.

Mike's little girl is a huge motivating force in his life and “makes everything a lot more real; puts everything in perspective.” And we all stand to win from the heartfelt effort Mike and Megan Halter are putting into Lucia. Now, how about another bottle of great Washington wine to wash down those meatballs?