Neighborhood Match

The 3400 block of West 32nd Avenue is a melting pot. A green-and-purple-painted bookshop shares the street with antique stores, the South American eatery Sabor Latino, a coffee shop, a purveyor of new-age paraphernalia, a liquor store, a clothing exchange, several burrito spots and an ugly apartment building framed in faded pink and green. Victorian houses in various stages of disarray -- with broken screens, abused lawn ornaments, fading paint of every color imaginable -- and old bungalows stand guard like aging parents, waiting to see what will become of this neighborhood in its transition from frumpy to funky.

Tom Sumner decided to add his Trattoria Stellato the mix eight months ago, dropping the restaurant into an 1889 Victorian that needed a lot of work (and still does). But that doesn't bother Sumner. "This was perfect," he says. "I've been wanting to do a restaurant for the last five years, and I've been looking all over. I just fell in love with this neighborhood, and I knew it would be ideal for the kind of restaurant I wanted to do." And he knew it well, since his great-grandfather once lived a few blocks away, at 33rd and Decatur.

A fourth-generation Coloradan, Sumner had been a ski bum for many years, working at restaurants to support his downhill habit. "I put myself through college waiting tables," he recalls, "and I've cooked in a bunch of places in Denver and California. I cooked at the old Rattlesnake Club. And even after I got my degree in history, I always thought that if things got really bad, I could always open a restaurant."

Although things never did get that bad, he's opened one, anyway. Still, Sumner didn't give up skiing altogether: An instructor at Loveland, he managed to get out on the slopes every Wednesday this season because, as he puts it, "you have to leave something in you to keep going in the restaurant business." It also helps to bring in the right talent. Trattoria Stella's cooking duties are shared by chefs Teresa Stephens, Skip Jones and Jennifer Blakeslee, an embarrassment of riches in this labor-short economy. "Hey, they could work anywhere," Sumner admits. "They just happened to like what I want to do here, and they were all willing to work out who does what and when, and so far, it works." And then there's Sumner's fiancée, Marna Freeman, who makes all the desserts and does the baking. "I'm marrying her because I don't want to have to pay for the desserts," Sumner says, sounding like he's only half joking.

Once the staff was in place, it was time to tackle the space. Fortunately, Sumner's brother Andy is an architect. "He came up with a lot of the ideas for the decor, following what I was looking to do," says Sumner. "I really love the New York-type Italian restaurants, but it seems like that's already been done in this town, so I wanted to do something that would include some of that fun New York-neighborhood thrown-together feel, sort of a groovy date place, but one that wouldn't be all about red sauce."

The result is oddly endearing. Trattoria Stella isn't the most intimate eatery around, but the way it's set up lends a certain sense of romanticism: It's like one of those movie restaurants in which the leading lady and man are able to focus on each other amid the chaos. The front of the house is open, enclosed in plastic and warmed by radiators and space heaters; the tables and chairs, dishes and mugs are charmingly mismatched; the menu, too, pairs classic Italian specialties with off-the-wall sauces and offbeat homemade pastas. This is a menu that takes time to peruse, so it's wise to order a bottle of wine off the good wine list, selected by the guys who run Mondo Vino across the street, so that you can sip while you read.

Since we were hungry, we also ordered a walnut-packed Gorgonzola spread ($7.95) appetizer to nibble on while we made our entree decisions. Whipped, creamy and pungent (the cheese had been aerated with sour cream and cream cheese), the spread had just enough saltiness to whet our appetites but was still light enough -- even topping baguette and apple slices -- to let us move on through the meal. And move on we did, to a delectable salad of warm artichoke hearts and wild mushrooms ($7.95) that had been tossed with baby spinach leaves, roasted garlic and pine nuts in a balsamic vinaigrette with just a touch of sweetness, which played off the tangy artichokes.

We had just polished off those two large starters when our entrees arrived. The mustard brie sauce completely covered not just the tomato fettuccine ($9.95), but the plate -- and we still we couldn't get enough of this unusual-sounding, and -tasting, sauce. The Dijon used was more sweet than biting and, with the brie, had melted down into a thick, creamy sauce. Broccoli and big shards of portabellos brought bulk to the dish, although the tomato fettuccine was pretty hearty, too -- a thick, soft noodle faintly pink from tomato, which had been added more for color than flavor. The combination was odd, and the result was wonderful.