[CORRECTION: This story originally referred, incorrectly, to "the late Cosimo Mammoliti." We are happy to report that Mammoliti is very much alive and well. EYE WEEKLY regrets the error and apologizes to the Mammoliti family for any confusion this error created.]

If globetrotting chef Anthony Bourdain had one last meal, he’d opt for roasted bone marrow with sea salt on toast. If, however, you decide on Terroni for your last supper, consider the Garganelli Geppetto ($15.95) — talk about a meal to die for. Thick, gnarly shreds of fresh pasta in garlicky extra virgin olive oil are mixed with the intense bitter green flavour of dandelion, generous crumbles of spicy sausage and, providing a mild counterbalance, cubes of creamy fontina. Sigh — we’re ready now, lord.

Since opening in 1992, when friends late Paolo Scoppio and Cosimo Mammoliti first modified their import company storefront on Queen West to include a café, the Terroni chain has been remarkably consistent — a feat in view of its impressive growth from café to chain that now includes four locations (the latest at the former Courthouse) plus an outpost in LA.

Terroni built its food emporium in Toronto, perhaps the menu substitution capital of North America. But the Terroni tradition is built on giving people what they want instead of what they think they want. As for what patrons think they want? It doesn’t matter: a blurb on the menu reads, “No substitutions, no modifications, and no reservations.” Period. Got a food allergy? Suck it up, cowboy.

What the people want, of course, is good, classic, southern Italian fare with a huge selection of that magically delicious gooey, cheesy and doughy alchemy called pizza. And a recent trip to the stunningly appointed Adelaide East location reminds us why Terroni remains such a success.

To start, there’s always been that stellar selection of pizza. This is, of course, to be expected from a place that is perennially voted among Hogtown’s best purveyors of the pie. Just a few bites into the Scattagengive ($13.95), a smattering of hot salami strewn across a golden brown landscape of zesty Auricchio provolone and mozzarella; or the Soprano-inspired Don Corrado ($15.95), which weds rosemary-laced purple potatoes and subtly spiced homemade sausage (made by Mammoliti’s father, Vince, if the website is to be trusted) with pungent gorgonzola, and you know the only problem here is deciding which of the 30 varieties ($11.95 to $14.95) to devour next.

Terroni signatures have made this a dining destination in many parts of the city. Take the Funghi Assoluti ($11.95) — what seems like a truckload of luscious (and expensive) oyster mushrooms bathed in oven-crisped parmesan on a hillock of balsamic-kissed baby arugula, and arguably T.O.’s best carpaccio. Fresh daily pasta keeps that rustic homemade sentiment alive. A bowl of tagliatelle in Bolognese sauce ($15.95), at first too al dente, is perfectly delightful when redone.

Desserts? Flawless: a fluffy pillow of pannacotta with berries ($6.95), matched beautifully with rich balsamic reduction, is wonderfully sweet and airy. And the chocolate lemon ricotta torte ($6.95) is as authentic as it gets: dense, slightly bitter and perfect to wash down with an espresso.

Many have marvelled at Terroni’s success in its 16-year history. What other restaurateur can claim lineups practically every day of the week? And after this meal, why the attraction lives on is as clear as the Pellegrino. The culturally cool tratt not only still attracts Italian mamas who come to buy their prosciutto and mortadella on Saturdays. But even more important is this overwhelming sense of pride and satisfaction in serving foods that have been prepared the same way for hundreds of years — that’s the not-so-secret to their success.