Carmine’s on the Hill

These are scary times for restaurants. The economic downturn has left way too many of us with less disposable income to dispose of, which means we're eating out less, which means tables are going empty and hours are being cut. I honestly fear for the financial survival of restaurant owners -- especially those of the mom-and-pop persuasion, who tend to have less capital on which to rely.

Imagine my surprise, then, when we turned into Carmine's on the Hill fairly late on a weeknight and found a packed parking lot. And it's a pretty big lot.

Some financially stable (Ha!) company's Christmas party? Nope. A wedding or reunion? Nope. The remaining disposable income of those in the two nearby Sun Citys, who at least don't have to worry about getting laid off? Well, maybe to some extent, but I think that packed parking lot stems more from the restaurant's ability to find the right point on the continuum that extends between good-quality food and reasonable prices, and to deliver it in what feels like a luxurious setting.

First, that. Carmine's is indeed on a hill, above Horizon Ridge Parkway on the south end of Henderson. And that hill, and the wall of glass that somebody was savvy enough to install across the front of the dining room, provides a sweeping, still-can-take-your-breath-away view of much of the Las Vegas Valley (as long as you look past the 7-Eleven across the street). The Strip can be spotted in the distance, but it doesn't even seem to matter with the millions of lights glittering through the darkness. The whole restaurant is oriented to that vista; there's a wall of glass behind the bar to afford unblocked views from just about any table or stool.

Then there's the food. Carmine's on the Hill was previously La Collina Cucina under the same owner, Carmine Vento, founder of the Villa Pizza chain. Vento has said his customers urged him to more clearly link his name to the place, and we don't see many differences between the old and new, at least as far as the menus. You aren't likely to find anything truly offbeat or with many creative embellishments, but there's a good variety of mostly southern Italian favorites.

The pasta e fagioli ($5.95), for example. It was hearty, hot and warming, the pasta and beans were both nice and firm, and the broth had a decent amount of flavor, but it was truly pasta e fagioli -- pasta (ditalini) and beans (cannellini) -- and nothing else, no bits of pancetta or tomatoes or anything.

Antipasto Della Casa ($11.95, and sized to easily serve two or more) was similar in its simplicity, but we liked the variety, with slices of prosciutto, chunks of a good crumbly Parmesan, olives and artichoke hearts and some simple caprese and bruschetta.

We tried for a veal dish, but they were out of veal -- which is heartening, really, because it means they don't have a big block of it in the freezer -- so we went with old-standby eggplant Parmesan ($14.95), a comfort food (for us, anyway) that's particularly suitable to these chilly evenings. It was another simple, straightforward classic, the breaded eggplant crisply fried (and a tiny bit greasy, but really just a tiny bit), the marinara on it and the accompanying pasta steeped full of soul.

The only gild-the-lily dish we experienced on this evening was the gnocchi ($14.95). Like pasta, potato-based gnocchi provides a blank canvas that makes it a suitable foil for just about anything, most commonly marinara sauce. This version, though, had been tossed with a profusion of both peas and strips of chewy sun-dried tomatoes, all of it in a creamy, buttery sauce. As is the case with matzoh balls, there are those who like their gnocchi light and those who like it dense. I'm usually of the former camp and this was the latter, but with this treatment, I enjoyed it immensely. Somebody -- whether Carmine or his kitchen staff -- knew how to play off that texture.

And, come to think of it, they know when to leave well enough alone and revel in tradition. So maybe that's the real explanation for all of those cars.

Las Vegas Review-Journal reviews are done anonymously at Review-Journal expense. Contact Heidi Knapp Rinella at 383-0474 or e-mail her at hrinella@reviewjournal.com.