BY NANCY DEARING ROSSBACHER AND STEPHEN W. SYLVIA

FOR THE FREE LANCE-STAR

She: Ristorante Renato has been around long enough that when it first arrived in then-staid Fredericksburg, its Italian cuisine was considered excitingly ethnic and even shockingly daring. The Cafe Diablo, a flaming six-liqueur and coffee extravaganza prepared tableside, was considered the height of dining razzmatazz.

That was the late 1970s, and a recent visit showed that the 2009 approach is "If it ain't broke " Despite the influx of trendier restaurants, Renato's, as it's commonly referred to in the area, remains disarmingly unchanged.

He: Its Web site (OK, one thing has changed since the '70s) proclaims it to have 260 seats, but that includes the private banquet rooms. The public dining area is a comparatively small and cozy gathering of tables and booths set with crisp white linen.

This time of year, the centerpiece fireplace welcomes with a gentle blaze. A recommendation for reservation-makers: The booths are more private, but the table in front of the fireplace has it all over them for romance.

She: Let's get this out of the way up front: Renato's is expensive. Our dinner for three gamboled to a hefty pre-tip $135, and we didn't even indulge in the Cafe Diablo floor show.

But, do I begrudge a penny of the $9 that went into the lemony, proscuitto-topped, bite-size clams casino appetizer? Nah.

He: The lumache Renato ($10) was similarly worth the fare, with a mound of shell-free snails in a lush, garlicky sauce.

At $5, the zuppe di cipollo is a bargain. It's onion soup with grandeur: abundant onion slices underpinned with broth-soaked bread and afloat with melted mozzarella.

She: The salmon Renato ($25) is criminally underdescribed on the menu, which basically notes that it comes "with scallops and shrimp." It was, in fact, a rosy plank of flaky salmon topped with several gently browned scallops and curls of shrimp, the whole awash in a luxuriant white wine sauce.

He: Rich sauces with multilayered flavors appear to be a hallmark of Renato's. The veal in the scalloppina Monte Carlo ($22) was melt-away tender, but it was the velvety sauce--part cream, part brandy and part earthy blend of mellow seasonings--that set it apart.

Included with dinner entrees are a house salad (very fresh, and I recommend the creamy Italian house dressing) and a side of either pasta (linguine with a commendable marinara) or the vegetable of the day (on our recent visit, slightly overcooked broccoli spears).

She: A note about the service. It can be what I call "continental leisurely," which is to say: Relax and let dinner arrive when it will.

He: Last thoughts: pricey but always memorable.

She: They should bottle those sauces.

Nancy Dearing Rossbacher and Stephen W. Sylvia publish a Civil War magazine together. She likes to cook. He likes to eat. To reach Rossbacher and Sylvia, e-mail them at editor@nstcivil war.com. Or call 540/374-5430 with comments about today's review.