My son the pizza lover did not like Via Tribunali. Neither did my friend Joe, the gourmand guitarist. Me? I like Via Tribunali very much.

My son had a good excuse for complaining about this new Neapolitan-style pizzeria: He's a kid, and my promise of "a pizza place" did not jibe with this sexy, skinny, bar-centric haunt with its sexy, skinny, Italian-accented waitresses, where you have to "wait forever" for your table and then, when you get your sexy, skinny pizza, it sags in the middle when you pick it up. Valid reasons all.

Joe's kvetching wasn't off the mark, either. He spent 30 minutes driving around looking for the joint on East Pike. ("What? They're too cool to put up a sign?") Worse, when he called for directions, well, "They were too busy to answer the [expletive deleted] phone!" Don't even get him started about the menu, written in Italian and devoid of translation. (Brief lesson: pomodoro = tomato; acciughe = Mediterranean anchovies; mozz de bufala Campana = mozzarella, not the kind wrapped in cheap plastic bearing the Frigo label.)

Nor was Joe nuts about the pizzas, despite ingredients imported from Naples, a pizzaiola imported from Naples, and the tile oven whose parts and the guys who built it were (all together now) imported from Naples. Joe's take? "Naples, schmaples: They can't hold a candle to Sally's in New Haven."

As for the single, seductively decorated restroom? Did I hear about its lipstick-red walls, deluxe hand soap or the piped-in Italian vocals? Uh-uh. "No sign on that door, either!" Joe scolded. "It could have been the broom closet, for all I knew!"

Via Tribunali 913 E. Pike St., Seattle; 206-322-9234 Pizza $$ Reservations: parties of eight or more only. Hours: 5 p.m.-2 a.m. Wednesdays-Sundays (closed Mondays-Tuesdays). Prices: antipasti $9-$11, salads $5-$8.50, "pizze"/"calzoni"/pasta $9-$15, desserts $6-$8. Wine list: Intriguing and all-Italian (save for French Champagnes), grouped by region, priced from $8 (for a half-liter carafe of jug wine) to $400 (for a party-happy three-liter Super Tuscan). Quality by the glass options available. Sound: loud. Parking: good luck! Who should go: Scene makers, molto mozzarella lovers and Neapolitan pizza fans looking for a good show. Full bar / credit cards: AE, MC, V / crowds are the only obstacle to access / smoking in front dining area only.

He did appreciate Armandino Batali's lamb prosciutto. Seattle's cured-meats maestro's work stars on an excellent misto salumi ($11). And Joe noted that the creamy tiramisu ($6) is "actually quite good" — even if "you can't get a decaf coffee here since, obviously, this place is not meant for anyone over 40!"

Granted, he made those concessions after sharing a bottle of Barbera d'Alba from an Italian wine list that ranges from $15 to $400 — the latter a double-magnum of Tignanello: enough to refill glasses all around the big table in the cozy private room in back. (For less auspicious occasions, there's a fine list of inexpensive glass pours.)

Joe, Joe, Joe. Do yourself a favor. Return to Via Tribunali, alone. Take a seat at the restaurant's center stage, the marble-topped bar, preferably at its street end. This leaves your back to the dimly lit dining area up front, which doubles as storage for sacks of apple wood and Italian typo-OO flour, and as an additional holding area for those waiting for a table.

From your perch, you'll have a great view of exposed-brick walls and the high-backed booths where Beautiful People sit sampling slender slices of prosciutto paired with creamy buffalo-milk mozzarella ($10). This is a better bet in February than the caprese salad ($9) whose red, ripe tomatoes are hothouse bland, despite the fact that Mario, the friendly omnipresent waiter, will insist they're fabulous.

While you're at the bar, ignore the Young Turks in their knit caps discussing the merits of Boodles vs. Hendricks gin with the boyish bartender, Amon. He mixes a mean negroni and deals with crowd control and annoying patrons with warmth and aplomb.

Do keep your eye on the domed pizza oven flanking the far end of the bar, where pizzaiola Dino Santonicola (the guy in the kerchief) and his able mutton-chopped sidekick do a graceful pizzafied pas de deux. Their repertoire is brief: 14 "pizze," three "calzoni," and lasagna whose ethereal noodles are imported from Osteria la Spiga up the street, then lovingly layered with restrained amounts of meat sauce, fresh ricotta and Parmesan ($13.50).

Restraint is the Neapolitan style. No more so than in the Marinara ($9), which is sauce and crust. Period. But what crust: char-kissed and silky, with a seductive pull. Oregano and garlic, nothing more, adorn its beautifully balanced pomodoro sauce. The Napoletana ($10) is essentially the Marinara plus anchovies. The Salame, with tomato sauce, fresh mozzarella and high-quality pepperoni ($13), is another pleasing, straightforward pie served uncut, on a dinner plate, and easily enjoyed without any help — save a knife and fork.

That fork comes in handy with the Quattro Stagioni, crowned with soft clouds of fresh mozzarella, chopped prosciutto, pepperoni and (hiss!) canned mushrooms ($14). Those mushrooms join fresh ricotta, mozzarella and prosciutto in Dino's house "specialita" — the calzone Vesuvio ($14.50). Expect to hear the pizzaiola's come-and-get-it bell ringing incessantly after this double dose of dough is finger-flattened, filled, crimped, swiftly baked and pulled from the oven all pouffy. Eat it fast. It's less likely to ring your bell once it's flat and lukewarm.

Via Tribunali is the creation of Caffé Vita's Michael McConnell, whose flagship cafe and roasteria is right up the street.

Truth: McConnell didn't create this place for you or for me. As he puts it, "I've traveled to Naples a lot and wanted to bring back something for me from a place that I love." If others love it, too, well, that's just the crema on his espresso.

Nancy Leson: 206-464-8838 or taste@seattletimes.com. More columns at www.seattletimes.com/nancyleson.