Maremma is a region in southwest Tuscany, regarded as Italy’s Wild West. It is also a recently opened Italian restaurant in the West Village, where chef Cesare Casella presides in the kitchen. Mr. Casella grew up in his hometown of Lucca watching “spaghetti Westerns,” those Italian-produced, low-budget, highly fluid riffs on American Western dramas that fell out of favor here in the 1970s.

The restaurant Maremma is Mr. Casella’s whimsical tribute to the melding of Tuscan and American cowboy fare. That’s right, Tuscan cowboy fare. Which means the entire menu is a play on words. There are dishes such as a “Sloppy Giuseppe,” a take on our Sloppy Joe ($11), made with braised oxtail and beans on top of a bed of polenta, and “Tumbleweed” spinach tagliatelle topped with pork ragu ($17). It would seem that Maremma is an Italian concept restaurant taken to the extreme. It stresses not merely regionality – a la Tuscany at Mr. Casella’s other spot, Beppe, for example – but a sub-district of Toscana that’s practically unknown and certainly unrecognizable. The menu cross-pollinates somewhat familiar Tuscan elements with American fare that’s best known to fans of “Bonanza.”

In the space that was most recently Tangerine, the tiny duplex has been reclad with leather upholstery, hickory-wood slats, gray slate floors, and cacti galore. The walls in what should be called the Ponderosa Piazza (aka the bar lounge) feature mounted bullhorns and pictures of the rustic Maremma landscape. And the music, of course, is country. (Consider yourself warned.)

The menu is divided into small ($6-$12) and large ($16-$28) plates. A fiery “Cesare-style” gazpacho (“Pomodoro e Gamberi,” $12) was so spicy that the ruby-red shrimp dotting the soup might have been tofu. A hint of cucumber underneath the heat was welcome, but there wasn’t nearly enough to offer much-needed balance. Tender veal cheeks (“Rodeo,” $11), on the other hand, were perfectly braised and paired with an unlikely but delicious combination of corn and tomatillo salsa. Equally tender braised short ribs (“Earn-Your-Spurs,” $11), served atop creamy-but-bland stone-ground grits, revealed a familiar echo of chili heat that gave the exceptionally heavy – and wintry – dish a much-needed lift. Tuscan Fries ($6) came with chilies, too, and were crisp and crunchy.

Pastas, oddly, are listed among the big plates with no option for half-portions (and I thought there were no rules in the Wild West). This is a shame because Mr. Casella’s pastas are fabulous. His “Pony Express” ($17) finds spaghettini tossed with pancetta, tomatoes, tuna, and mushrooms. It’s one of those relatively simple, utterly satisfying pasta dishes that we all wish we could throw together at home – but usually can’t. Less impressive was the pappardelle “Wild Bill Cody” ($17), an odd-sounding combo of chocolate and wild-boar sauce that tasted oddly of cloves more than chocolate. Still, the pasta was cooked perfectly and the sauce was nonetheless delicious, but not nearly as exotic, or exciting, as expected.

A peppery seafood stew called Caldero ($24), on the other hand, delivered the pepper it advertised. Tender octopus, cooked masterfully, floated amid an amalgam of shellfish in a pepper-infused tomato-based broth that makes the traditional Tuscan aqua pazza seem gentle in comparison. A “Tuscan” skirt steak ($21), charred nicely outside and pink within, was served thinly sliced and surrounded by mushrooms and giant, toothsome corona beans. And it was quite good.

Desserts, which included a perfectly fine ricotta cheesecake ($8) and mouthwatering lemon tart ($8), hardly matched the intensity – or overwrought nature – of the rest of the menu, and certainly didn’t seem like the sort of things you’d find cowboys eating on either continent.

228 W. 10th St., between Bleecker Street and Eighth Avenue, 212-645-0200.