More Twin Cities restaurants than I can count have been launched by creatives who once punched the D'Amico time clock, but what diners should also appreciate about the company is that it rewards hard work and ingenuity by promoting from within.

The latest example: Michael Dalton, a veteran of the company's nearby Campiello, is now running the show at Parma 8200, the D'Amicos' latest Italian-inspired venture. Dalton's cooking isn't flashy or trendy, but given his meticulous attention to detail, it doesn't need to be. Witness the pork ragu that he liberally spoons over cavatelli. The recipe, inspired by his mother and grandmother, involves slow-cooking gently sweet country-style ribs in tomatoes and herbs until one flavor falls into the next. It's so good that it could flip lifelong vegetarians in a single bite.

The same can be said for the pot roast he glams up with a slow and intense red wine braise accented with cinnamon and nutmeg trace notes; the fall-apart, succulent results speak for themselves. Oh, and if anyone is wondering how to prepare polenta, a basic that's ruined all too often, call Dalton. He knows how.

One of the many reasons why I'm mourning the passing of summer and fall is the demise of several of Dalton's delectable salads. But at least for now I can still enjoy his bruschetta, just plain-old grilled bread topped with ruby red tomatoes, fragrant basil, olive oil and sinfully rich burrata.

The menu's eight pastas are first-rate. The kitchen cranks out a delicate, nearly translucent ravioli, then, to no one's surprise, demonstrates admirable restraint by filling them with a dab of house-made ricotta, a bit of basil and a touch of tomato. Perfect. Two other dazzlers include the toothy linguine, tossed with tiny clams coaxed open in a garlic-infused white wine steam, and fusilli that's splashed in a vibrant basil pesto. All are sold in pasta-course and entree-sized options, and it takes an iron will to refrain from indulging in the latter.

Oh, and the meatballs! They're a winning blend of ground chuck and ground pork, seasoned with plenty of dried oregano and kept moist with ricotta and milk-soaked bread crumbs. Dalton serves them with his carrot-sweetened marinara sauce over spaghetti and wedged into a sandwich; both variations are eye-rollingly good.

Because he's catering to an office crowd -- Parma is located in the same complex that has been ruled by Kincaid's since what feels like the beginning of time -- Dalton offers standards such as salmon, hanger steak and a tower of a burger, all pleasantly rendered.

Here's another reason to admire Dalton's sure-handed handiwork: Dishes such as crisply fried mozzarella-filled risotto balls, or pristinely elegant beef carpaccio, made using a thinly pounded, barely seared cut of inside round, take the place of pizzas, Caesar salads or other cliched benchmarks of Italian restaurant-dom. Hurrah.

I encountered a few missteps. The appealing sweet-sour aspects of a pork tenderloin, a few nudges away from being too rare, was overpowered by a four-alarm blaze of a chile-flake crust. Each meal starts with a plate of cheese- and garlic-toast, and I'm torn; on some visits, I found it a cheesy (literally and figuratively), and on others I couldn't scarf it down fast enough.

D'Amico pastry whiz Leah Henderson has forged a half-dozen doozies. Along with expertly made sorbets and gelatos, best in show are the crisp semi-sweet chocolate-filled panini and a beyond-luscious butterscotch panna cotta, topped with a pool of decadent caramel and a dollop of mascarpone.