Ama stands out on its quiet, quaint little stretch of MacDougal Street like a Time Square billboard, the wattage of its glow seemingly in the thousands. In contrast to the dimly lit, romantic eateries nearby, Ama is bold, brash, and raucous, replete with a waiting list of people milling around outside, wineglasses and cigarettes in hand.

This modern, glossy-white eatery is the brainchild of Donatella Arpaia (of David burke & donatella fame), who, our waiter one night claimed, named it in honor of her mother, as the word ama is a derivation of the word “to love” in Italian. Mamma Arpaia hailed from Puglia, the region that is not always fondly referred to as the heel on the boot-shaped map of Italy. Fans of Nicola Marzovilla’s fabulous I Trulli restaurant and wine bar on 27th Street, where the peasant-rooted cuisine of Italy’s southeast is elevated to delicious heights, know better, of course. Ama, however, is no I Trulli – at least not yet.

Given Ms. Arpaia’s mini-celebrity status uptown, the Madison Avenue crowd was well represented on the night I dined there last week, packed tightly around the reception podium-cum-wine bar that does high volume as the meet-greet-and-wait area. Although I booked a table a week in advance at the off-peak hour of 9 p.m., I wasn’t seated until 9:30, thanks to the overbooking of the overflowing tables. The staff seemed completely overwhelmed and unperturbed at the same time.

Chef Turibio Girardi’s menu is proudly Puglian, featuring the shabby-chic interpretations of that region’s cucina povera. While his cuisine may be rooted in poverty, the prices are not: A tiny starter of “Aunt Angela’s stuffed baby eggplant” is priced at $10. And the slender, roasted halves of Asian eggplants in the dish, stuffed with a nutty savory concoction, were uncharacteristically bitter, as if they hadn’t been salted and drained before cooking.

The menu consists of Antipasti, Primi, and Secondi, plus Contorni (sides). Though most of the dishes are priced in the teens, a four-course Italian-style meal with dessert adds up, and is, frankly, unnecessary, because many of the dishes are substantial enough to share.

Starters of pan-fried cod fritters were moist and light, paired with chickpeas and sweet red onion slices ($11). Panzerotti, or tiny fried calzones, were filled with either tomatoes and mozzarella or ricotta and spinach, both of which were excellent and easy to pop in the mouth in one bite ($10). Grilled baby cuttlefish in a clam and porcini broth ($12), on the other hand, were tough and tasteless, as were the dried-out charcoal-grilled octopus chunks served with a cherry tomato salad ($13).

Pastas include homemade, feather-light caputini, which are sort of like cavatelli, tossed with eggplant, tomatoes, and ricotta salata, which lends a salty kick to the straightforward dish ($15). Fava beans, which play a leading role in Puglian cuisine, are the foundation of the flour used to make the pasta sheets in the fabulous lasagnette layered with rock shrimp and tarragon scented oven-dried tomatoes ($16). The tiella pugliese, a small parmigiano-reggiano-topped baked casserole that’s made here layered with arborio rice, slices of potato, sweet shrimp, and mussels ($15), was very good, and browned beautifully under the broiler.

Such filling pastas were hard to follow with main courses. The zuppa di pesce Barese ($22) was a beautiful saffron-scented assortment of fresh shellfish that was ethereally light, temptingly served with bread for cleanup. In fact, the fish dishes in general, such as the wonderful whole grilled branzino served with little more than a drizzle of olive oil ($25), or the juicy pan-seared sea bass ($21) paired with sauteed chicory and fava bean puree, far outshone the landlocked dishes, such as the chewy sweetbreads ($18) or miniscule, pancetta-stuffed quail ($20), which was rather dry.

A side worth ordering is the zucchini dorati, described as “Mom’s golden zucchini patties” ($7), which were crisply fried and not the least bit oily.

Desserts included a lackluster sponge cake “tasting” ($7), which was presented without a description of what we were supposed to taste (one was bathed in amaretto, another in white rum), but the crema fritta ($7), golden fried pastry balls served with hot chocolate and strawberries, were great – like all things fried here. Be sure to ask for the homemade almond cookies that are proffered gratis – if the waiter’s too busy to remember.

Ama, 48 MacDougal St., 212-358-1707.