Not content with dominating the New York dining landscape, Italian restaurants have started encroaching on other cuisines’ successful formulas.

Crudo, an Italian take on sashimi, has been a hit at Esca and elsewhere, and gelaterias are displacing corner ice cream cone shops. Now a few Italian restaurants, including the Flatiron District’s new Bar Stuzzichini, are trying to move in on the booming tapas trade. The specialty at Bar Stuzzichini is, appropriately, stuzzichini, or Italian small plates.

The name is from an Italian word , stuzzicare, which means to pick. A chalkboard above the long marble bar lists some two dozen little snacks, which can be enjoyed at the bar with a drink, or at one of the cavernous dining room’s many little comfortably spaced tables.

Stuzzichini can be ordered individually, or in clusters; a sampler of five costs $22. They’re grouped into categories: vegetables, seafood, fried food, cheeses, meats. Among the best is zucchini alla scapece ($5), grilled slices of zucchini marinated with mint and balsamic vinegar. It’s a plain preparation that could be completely ordinary but instead shows the chef’s fine touch. Paul di Bari, who worked previously at Wallsé, brings subtlety to simple dishes. He dresses up grilled sardines ($7) with a sprinkling of raisins and pine nuts; tiny, delicate clams ($8), steamed in their shells in a buttery broth, need no improvement.

The fried food category includes a superb Jewish-style artichoke ($6), whole, crisped in the fryer, and full of flavor. Some restaurants might offer a dipping sauce, but Mr. di Bari knows that would be an embarrassment of richness. Frying works wonders, too, for miniature triangular chickpea fritters with a creamy texture ($5); light, well-spiced, crisp-crusted meatballs ($6); and battered hunks of salt cod ($6), although the cod could use another few hours of soaking to get out its excess salt. Cheeses and cold cuts — fresh ricotta swirled with honey, spicy sliced sopressata — round out the list of small plates.

But there’s a full dinner menu, too, for anyone who’s still peckish after a round of stuzzichini; the small plates can serve as fine appetizers as well as a grazing meal in their own right. Firm strands of tagliolini ($15), creamily sauced with ground pistachios and lemon, are excellent, if a bit heavy, with a warm, subtle nuttiness. Delicate orecchiette ($12) with pea pods sliced whole, their tiny peas still nestling inside, makes for a more seasonally appropriate pasta dish, moistened with a hint of cream.

Meat and fish dishes continue the menu’s prevailing trend of modest purity. No dish contains more than a few simply harmonious elements. Boneless beef short rib meat ($18) comes rolled at the bottom of a deep bowl and doused in fresh tomato sauce that’s tangy and thick but altogether straightforward; as is the clean flavor of a moist sautéed chicken breast ($17), deeply scented with lemon and white wine, its surface crisped and savory. The grilled rib eye ($27), a tasty piece of meat, is seasoned all’arrabbiata: with olive oil and plenty of crushed red pepper (some would say too much). Instead of leaving his grilled tuna steak ($22) rare, the standard shortcut to keeping it tender, Mr. di Bari lubricates the thoroughly cooked thin filet with rich basil oil, the effluence from its pesto topping, which keeps the delicate fish juicy while contributing summery flavor.

The standout among the desserts (all $7), which are made by owner Carolyn Renny, is the mucca marrone, an Italian take on the classic “brown cow” ice cream float. Better than the mildly orange-flavored olive oil cake, better than the pistachio-rich cannoli, the mucca features soft scoops of chocolate and vanilla gelato drowned in Chinotto, an Italian cola relative that has the bittersweet complexity of Campari.

Of the nearly 100 all-Italian wines, categorized by region, some 20 are poured by the quartino mini-carafe, for easy pairing with flight after flight of stuzzichini. Rosés and prosecchi flow alongside sturdy southern reds, like Sicily’s sunny and spicy Torreforte ($16 a glass, and $48 a bottle).

Bar Stuzzichini isn’t the only spot in the city offering Italianate tapas — the Venetian ones at Le Zoccole on Avenue A are particularly interesting — but it’s a slick, very tasty continuation of what I hope turns out to be a long-lived trend.

Bar Stuzzichini (928 Broadway, between 21st and 22nd streets, 212-780-5100).