Emilio’s is off the beaten path on the northernmost edge of Little Italy. Inside, find a dining room filled with character — framed photos crowd the walls, while owner and chef Emilio Vitolo presides at the front round table by the entrance. Bowie was a regular, and you may spot other celebrities like Lenny Kravitz, Rihanna, or, at least on one occasion, Taylor Swift. The food is fundamental in its simplicity. Start with the fried zucchini or the tripe marinara, then proceed to a plate of fresh tagliatelle alla Bolognese or the linguine with white clam sauce.

Expect lines, a scene, and impressive Italian American food that doesn’t come cheap at this newish destination from Rich Torrisi of the Major Food Group empire. If you can’t get a seat, perhaps you’d have time for a standing table with a limited menu of snacks.

Heros rule at Parm from Major Food Group. The meatballs in meatball Parm really melt in your mouth, and the eggplant version offers bottomless depths of flavor at this modern classic in the middle of old Little Italy.

Founded in 1999 by Frank DeCarlo — now Marc Forgione — Peasant was one of the first Italian restaurants in town to prepare most of its menu in a wood-fired oven, which is a magnificent sight to behold in the restaurant. Order the lamb merguez or even a whole pig, the latter of which must be ordered in advance. There’s a wine bar in the basement for more informal dining and drinking.

Lombardi’s was, quite simply, the place where modern pizza as we know it was invented. Gennaro Lombardi opened this pizzeria in 1905 (the original was further down Spring Street), using a coal oven to bake his large, profusely topped pies, leagues different from the tinier, barer, and wetter pizzas back in Napoli. Consider the clam pie, every bit as good as those at Frank Pepe’s in New Haven. The 16-inch pizza arrives blanketed in tiny bellies, with a lemon propped at its center. Coated in olive oil, the thin crust provides a crunchy, blank canvas for the garlicky, parsley-flecked mollusks.

This fifth-generation Italian deli owned by Lou, Sal, and Marie Di Palo (one of them is likely to wait on you) opened in 1910 on Mott Street selling freshly made mozzarella and ricotta. Now it specializes in all manner of imported Italian products, especially cheeses and cold cuts. Brace yourself for a wait, though there’s great people watching, and generous samples as you finally transact. Mozzarella and ricotta are still made on the premises.

The hazelnut gelato here is creamy and nutty, or choose from dozens of other flavors, all made in the back. Loaded down with Victorian glitz, the bakery has been doing things right since 1892. The cannoli have a snappy shell, putting the neighbors’ soggy ones to shame, and the sweet ricotta filling has plenty of chocolate chips and candied citrus mixed in. Got room for more? Crackle through the flaky waves of pastry that wrap the Bavarian cream in the luxurious lobster tails, a spinoff of Neapolitan sfogliatelle, which are stuffed with semolina and ricotta and dotted with candied orange peel.

Aunt Jake’s has retooled the idea of an Italian restaurant with a modern design and a menu centered on fresh pastas that allow the customer to mix and match a dozen noodle shapes and the same number of sauces. It’s impossible to go wrong with, say, tagliatelle and an eggy carbonara, or herbed four-cheese ravioli mantled with pesto. There are gluten-free options, too, and the app list is longer and more varied than most, meaning you could make a satisfying meal of mushroom-laced rice balls or avocado and poached-egg toast.

Back in 1972, crime boss Joey Gallo was gunned down here during dinner, making Umbertos famous for generations before the Sopranos. The key is to order anything with clams in it. The littlenecks on the half shell are fresh, clean, and ice-cold, and so are the ample martinis. Baked clams, linguine with white clam sauce, seafood Marechiaro (an assortment in red sauce over pasta), and fried calamari with the hottest of the three sauces are further good choices.

Named after the hero of Saturday Night Fever, Tony Manero (John Travolta), Manero’s has developed a reputation for some of the best brick-oven pizzas in the neighborhood, with a puffy and nicely browned crust. In addition to pizza, menu highlights include eggplant lasagna, fried artichokes, Caesar salad, and “stuffies” — baked clams stuffed with seasoned bread crumbs.