THE Godfather Part One had one of the most atmospheric ever Christmas film scenes, the one- scored by Al Martino crooning Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas, where Michael and Kay are doing a spot of Midtown Christmas shopping and emerge from Best & Co onto the snowy street, packages in their arms. Of course Partick isn’t Manhattan, but stepping into the new Celino’s on a freezing night has this special feeling. Actually, it’s like being children again, our noses pressed up to the windows of the toyshop. Celino lights up its traffic-y corner site, promising crowd-pleasing food and conviviality. You walk in through the delicatessen, a Santa’s cave of Italian gastronomy. San Daniele ham, stripy aubergines, capers, home-made egg pasta, fresh ricotta, pannetone, if you can’t find something you absolutely must have here, then you must have lost the will to live.

When we arrive early evening the tables are full to bursting with families and workplace outings taking advantage of the good value pre-theatre menu. To say that it’s chaotic gives the wrong impression. Staffed by an army of waiters, Celino’s is just intoxicatingly alive, the sort of informal, yet atmospheric restaurant experience that appeals to all ages and types of people. It raises your spirits.

The food needn’t be brilliant here. Celino’s does so much else right that 99% of diners will like it anyway. And although there’s nothing much innovative or category improving to this operation-it doesn’t demonstrate the same discrimination with ingredient sourcing shown, say, by Caffè Contini in Edinburgh- it’s a good even performer. But equally it doesn’t take the line of least resistance by pandering to yesterday’s expectations. Case in point, as well as offering the stalwart Britalian spaghetti carbonara (politely labelled as ‘carbonara alla Scozzesse), Celino’s lists the authentic one (carbonara originale). This tradition-compliant dish uses cured cheek meat (guanciale) instead of bacon or pancetta, and the last-minute emulsion is formed by pecorino Romano and fresh egg yolk, without the alien introduction of cream. We obviously had to taste the latter, and it was a cracker: pasta with a spring bite, a generous hand with the guanciale strips, all nicely crisped up and suitably peppery. Show me better comfort food.

Before that though, we get mugged by a temptress focaccia, with its flaky salt and rosemary crust. It’s just too damned easy to eat, especially when we libate it liberally with the luscious, help-yourself extra virgin oil from the hills above Salerno. Our arancini lack something: they’re tepid, a bit insipid, and call out for stronger cheese. I’m not gone on their chilli-hot Arrabbiata dip- it’s inclining too much towards Thailand for my taste- and anyway, it’s hard to beat a good tomato sugo. But the ‘ripped’ buffalo milk mozzarella salad encircled by firm, meaty fresh San Marzano tomatoes, and lots of leafy basil is sheer pleasure.

We’re determined not to succumb to a carb fest. I mean, pasta, pizza, risotto panino, gelato, it’s just so appealing. But instead we get to grips with zuppa di pesce, a pot of clams, mussels, plump prawns, squid, langoustine, scallop, and a fillet of sea bass. It would easily serve two, in fact, its thick, piquant tomato sauce would make a meal on its own, sopped up with the garlic bread that flanks it.

‘We take our wine very seriously’ Celino’s says, and so it does. Its highly informative list, with its sensible food pairing suggestions, takes you on a tour of Italy’s blessedly diverse wine producing regions, concentrating on native grape varieties. The next best thing to drinking your way through it would be reading it in bed while drifting off to sleep. Happy dreams guaranteed.

The hue of the ice creams suggests food chemistry to me, and there are standard desserts: cannoli, tiramisù, pavlova. Instead we pick up homemade chocolate biscotti studded with pine kernels, a slice of sourdough ciambellone (a moist yeasty cake with seasonal dried fruits), and a dainty, custard-filled bombelone (doughnut). We’ve had ourselves a very merry little pre-Christmas at Celino’s and mean to continue the fun at home.

Celino’s, 235 Dumbarton Road, Glasgow 0141 341 0311

Lunch/Dinner £10-28

Food rating 8/10