Donatella Arpaia is very front-of-the-house. Also, should you peek at her website, very front-of-the-blouse. She's a combination hostess and hottie, ideally suited to modern American dining. Right now you can find her at Mia Dona, the third restaurant in Manhattan named at least in part after her. (davidburke & donatella lives on; Dona has closed.)

Front-of-the-house doesn't mean standing by the door, greeting guests, at least not when I show up. All the space up front is consumed by a couple of temporary coat racks, the kind we're used to seeing in the hallways of apartment buildings during Christmas party season. Didn't the designer of Mia Dona know that people in Manhattan wear overcoats? Just past the racks is a string of small dining rooms that offers a mixed message—pale library paneling meets zebra-skin carpeting.

Donatella Arpaia is back there somewhere, looking uncharacteristically demure in sleeveless turtleneck, jeans, and tiny spiked-heel boots. Her partner, the man in the kitchen, is Michael Psilakis, best-known for his cooking at Anthos, where he transformed boring old Greek food into fashionable Aegean cuisine—sounds a lot better, doesn't it? Quite a pair, and Mia Dona is quite a startling restaurant. Psilakis's interpretation of Italian makes Mario Batali's food seem tame.

He's the fireworks in this place, not her. His famous gnudi—ricotta cheese balls—come with truffle-butter sauce, lacy pan-fried speck, mushrooms, sage. It should be too much, but in his hands the assemblage is so skillful you won't mind. The agnolotti with dried grapes, however, are so sweet they might be mistaken in a blind tasting for Jewish noodle pudding.

If it's simplicity you seek, you've come to the wrong place. (The branzino, superbly cooked, could use two fewer accompaniments.) A couple exceptions to the overwrought creations are the crispy fried rabbit with fingerling potato chips and the baked paccheri—collapsed pasta tubes with a touch of tomato and basil, plus smoked mozzarella and a pile of fresh ricotta. A large order, priced at $15, easily feeds three.

Prices are beyond reasonable, topping out with a mixed grill for $24. Even when you're puzzled by the excess complexity, you'll admire the deft cooking, intriguing ingredients, and exceptional value. The slim cannoli, made with a crunchy, candy-like shell instead of typically soggy pastry—I sometimes wonder if Italians should be banned from baking—go for $6.

These are the early days for Mia Dona. Things will be better when Psilakis calms down and Arpaia dolls up.

206 East 58th Street, New York, NY; 212-750-8170