Recently, Toronto restaurateur Jen Agg tweeted something so succinct and deathly sharp, it was like a sashimi knife straight to the heart. She wrote out a list of what “every restaurant right now” seems to have as its menu template, including roasted carrots, beet salad, crudo and “cacio e pepe (many forms).” “Every restaurant” means your average hip 21st century North American culinary chill zone, of which we definitely have a plethora in the Bay Area.

It seems you can’t throw a golden beet in San Francisco without hitting a pasta spot that promises to be different from all the other pasta spots, and Itria is definitely one of them. Off the top of my head, I can name a handful of its peer institutions, new and not-so-new, where you can tuck into pasta and raw fish: Penny Roma, One Fish Raw Bar, Picco, Daytrip, for instance. Common in Italian seaside towns and popularized in the United States by Dave Pasternack at New York’s now-closed Esca, crudo has been a longtime preoccupation among Bay Area chefs, from Michael Mina to Pearl 6101’s Mel Lopez. Set up as a handmade pasta and crudo specialty restaurant, Itria excels at the little niche it’s carved out for itself in the culinary moment.

I’ve written a few small notes about Itria over the past year, having watched the partnership between former Al’s Place and Cotogna chef Daniel Evers and restaurateur Min Park slowly morph from an impromptu pizza-delivery operation to the full-fledged pasta hot spot that it is now. From the beginning, Evers’ true scheme was to omakasefy pasta; to give diners a chance to snack on several types of pasta in one sitting, though gluten definitely occupies the stomach very differently than raw fish and rice.

Tuna tartare at Itria in S.F.

The local trout in a pea vinaigrette at Itria.

If you want to try what the restaurant does best, go for that pasta and crudo tasting menu, which is six courses for $85 per person.

You’ll get to try several of the restaurant’s crudos and raw dishes at once, and that alone makes the tasting worth it. (I’m including the a la carte prices just for your information.) Raw fish — how hard could that be, right? But as I ate, I marveled at the intense knifework involved in these dishes.

Local trout ($13) was a portrait of springtime, arrayed in a shockingly green sweet pea vinaigrette. Tiny rhombi of rhubarb, like handkerchiefs for butterflies, added pops of their cheerful sourness to each bite.

Another crudo worth writing home about is the yellowtail amberjack in saor ($13), named for the Venetian fish preservation technique that uses vinegar, wine and wilted onions. Its sweet and sour flavors channel the irresistible power of Italian agrodolce, and the dish’s delicate slivers of red onion and onion flowers give it a full-circle feeling. A historical favorite of sailors, the technique even made its way to Japan, where it’s known as nanbanzuke — which you can translate loosely as “barbarian marinade.”

Pana cotta at Itria in S.F.

Spaghetti, smoked octopus, red onion and chile at Itria in S.F.

I’d also strongly advise going for the wine pairing ($45), with selections from a compelling list put together by general manager and wine director Julie Mackay, also formerly of Al’s Place. It skews Italian, of course, and natural wine nerds will find plenty to love here.

Befitting a restaurant that embraces omakase-style service is a short list of sake, a rare find at Italian restaurants. For instance, the Matsuno Kotobuki Honjozo ($15 per glass), a light-bodied sake with hints of burnt caramel, is a phenomenal accompaniment to Evers’ equally stupendous yellowfin tuna tartare ($12), the luxurious fish elevated by smoked leeks, an egg yolk and a crunchy layer of toasted hazelnuts.

The pasta menu jumps around a bit, with off-the-beaten-path forms like wafer-shape cencioni and potato-stuffed triangoli ($23), a transparently cynical nod to potato chip lovers like myself. (I couldn’t stop eating them.)

But of course we need to address the cacio e pepe in the room. Evers’ rendition is technically cacio e uova ($23), the simple formula enhanced with the addition of beaten egg. The silky, creamy sauce clings to the myriad ripples of the frilly mafaldine noodles, and an ample dose of ground black pepper reminds you of why this dish thrives on the strength of its particularities. There’s nowhere to hide in a dish this simple, and Evers does it right.

Rippled mafaldine noodles are cloaked in a creamy sauce with an ample dose of ground black pepper at Itria in S.F.

One important thing to note is that if you get the tasting menu, you’ll likely receive some off-menu items, too. Once, I was delighted to get a bowl of spicy spaghetti cloaked in a red sauce of chiles and red onion and studded with porky pieces of smoked octopus. It had the uncanny taste of pasta amatriciana, which usually includes guanciale, but was much lighter with the absence of pork fat. That was a welcome variation, considering how much pasta one can fit in one’s body in the course of a night.

Desserts lean simple and refreshing, with the usual tasting menu finale being a pleasantly tart creme fraîche panna cotta ($12). After all those carbs, the panna cotta resets the palate; it’s not a bad way to get sent back out into the hectic Mission Street milieu.

You might be wondering, what about the rest of the a la carte menu? There are two family-style dishes that you could share, like the platter of double-fried chicken ($38) perked up with a piquant Italian chile pepper sauce. Within the greater canon of fried chicken dishes out there, it was merely fine. Passable. OK. And at its core, a bit dry. If you’re feeling choice anxiety about it, don’t.

Same with the starters. Who doesn’t love crispy pork belly ($18), especially when it’s paired with pickled green tomatoes and musky black garlic, as it is here? But it’s not a smart prelude if you’re saving yourself for pasta, so I’d skip unless you plan to go light on the latter.

Itria wine director Julie Mackay presents a bottle of wine to diners at the S.F. restaurant.

This shotgun-style restaurant space feels like it packs two concepts into one. At the front, a bar with high-top tables and moody lighting; out back, a bright dining room with a blocky wooden communal table at its center. Personable front-of-house staff connect the spaces like trains going station-to-station. Under Mackay’s lead, they keep the experience jovial and informal, whether you’re just tucking into a glass of wine and spaghetti at the bar or going for the full tasting menu.

I keep thinking of Agg’s lighthearted jab at homogeneity in restaurants (which, she admitted, included her own) as I write this. It’s true that in times of economic crisis, cultural expression might go less for experimental and more for the hits, since it’s just not as safe to take risks. You go for the beet salad and cacio e pepe because it reinforces your bottom line, and that’s not necessarily a bad thing. Overall, Itria is a great case study in how a place can use the familiar to create an exceptional experience. It’s all in the restaurant’s attention to minute details — through the precision of its rhubarb cuts, the thoughtfulness of its wine list and the frills of its pasta.

3266 24th St., San Francisco. 415-874-9821 or www.itriasf.com

Hours: 5:30-9:30 p.m. Wednesday, Thursday and Sunday; 5:30-10 p.m. Friday and Saturday.

Accessibility: Level space, no steps. Good access to tables and bar seating.

Noise level: Loud, with conversation difficult at peak hours.

Meal for two, without drinks: $90-$170.

What to order: Tasting menu, yellowtail tartare, cacio e uovo.

Meat-free options: Plenty in starter and pasta sections.

Transportation: Steps from 24th Street Station. On 14, 27, 48, 49 and 67 Muni lines. Difficult street parking, but close to several public garages.

Best practices: The tasting menu, plus the wine pairing, are excellent deals. Reservations recommended.

Soleil Ho is The San Francisco Chronicle’s restaurant critic. Email: soleil@sfchronicle.com Twitter: @hooleil

Since 2019, Soleil Ho has been The Chronicle's Restaurant Critic, spearheading Bay Area restaurant recommendations through the flagship Top Restaurants series. Ho also writes features and cultural commentary, specializing in the ways that our food reflects the way we live. Their essay on pandemic fine dining domes was featured in the 2021 Best American Food Writing anthology. Ho also hosts The Chronicle's food podcast, Extra Spicy, and has a weekly newsletter called Bite Curious. Previously, Ho worked as a freelance food and pop culture writer, as a podcast producer on the Racist Sandwich, and as a restaurant chef. Illustration courtesy of Wendy Xu.