Truly, is there anything better than a lunch with legendary restaurateur Tony Vallone? The man who defined fine dining in Houston and who has served presidents, Pavarotti and Princess Margaret—as well as the creme de la creme of Houston society, since 1965.

We sat down at his Caffe Bello last week to meet the new chef, talk politics and food and sample some new menu items. Including octopus.

I know, I know, I’ve said I don’t eat octopus, but if there’s one person who can get me to swallow tentacles I figured it would be Vallone.

First, the chef: The new guy is Bobby Matos, from San Diego by way of Brennan’s of Houston. Now at home in the Caffe Bello kitchen, he’s cooking up some great new tastes.

First up was a delectable side dish of blistered peppers. These green Diavioli (little devil) peppers go on the grill for a quick blister then are plated with a dash of Sicilian sea salt and some grated Parmigiano Reggiano. Crunchy and delicious, they aren’t high on the Scoville heat scale; although some can be hotter than others, but it’s the peppers that get blistered here, not your mouth.

Then it was on to the Malfatti al Telefono, what Vallone calls "Italian junk food." But far from being bad for you, it’s really just a simple dish that’s filling. Burrata cheese and San Marzano tomatoes over hand-torn pasta, very simple, very good.

There’s also a new pizzetta (one of the things the casual Caffe Bello is known for), this one a breakfast feast topped with a fried egg. Break the yolk and let in run over the little pizza and it’s an instant brunch classic.

There are also seared diver scallops with a Sicilian blood orange reduction and just a breath of something spicy. Hmmmm.

“It has just a hint of mustard in it,” says Vallone. “But that’s a secret ingredient, don’t write that.”

I cock my head.

“Oh, okay, go ahead and write it.”

Thank you.

Caffe Bello, in the old La Strada space on Westheimer Road, is one of 42 restaurants in Montrose, Vallone tells me. Forty-three now, if you count the new El Real Tex-Mex Cafe.

“It’s a tough market,” Vallone admits. “And it’s hard to know what will work and what people will respond to.”

Talking about the neighborhood brings up the recent rash of burglaries in the area, which leads to talk of politics and the city budget and how we don’t have enough police on the streets. Just your typical lunchtime chat, which then leads to talk of the dreaded octopus.

“I love octopus,” Vallone said. “It’s the first thing my family makes for me when I visit Italy.”

Which leads me to admit an embarrassing story about how I actually had to spit out a bite of octopus at a sushi restaurant (no, I will not tell you which one) during a work related tasting.

“It’s not the flavor,” I explain. “It’s the texture.”

A foodie friend or mine agrees, comparing it to eating rubber bands, which is putting it kindly, I think.

“The Asian way of doing octopus can be chewy,” Vallone said as the dish appears on the table. “But we slow braise ours for two hours.”

I eye it suspiciously. It actually doesn’t look like an eight-armed cephalopod mollusk, all wrapped up in the peppery sauce with baby spring onions and pan seared gnocchi.

“You don’t have to eat it,” he says kindly. “I just wanted you to see how the dish looks.”

But, pulling on my big girl food writer pants, I stick in a fork and pull out a tentacle, close my eyes and bite.

“Oh, you should get some of the meaty part, you just got a tentacle.”

Please don’t say "tentacle" while I’m trying to eat this.

He laughs. “Oh, you’re a real sport.”

Um, thanks.

But, you know what? This creature of the deep, braised in Chianti, is actually edible. More than that, I kinda like it. It’s not chewy; it’s tender and smothered in enough sauce to have real flavor. Not that I plan on ordering it the future.

Nope, next time I dine on my own dime at Caffe Bello I’m going straight for the Kobe burger. This two-fisted burg doesn’t need the salad fixings that come on the side. A thick, juicy hand formed patty of Kobe (that won’t break the bank at $12) on a house made bun with some plain old American yellow cheese is a now one of my favorites. Who knew that Italians could make an American classic?

“They actually have hamburgers in Italy now,” Vallone says. “There’s even a McDonald’s at the Spanish Steps in Rome.”

Man, is nothing sacred? What’s next, a Starbucks in the Vatican?

Of all the dishes on the menu here, the only one not made in-house is Elizabeth’s cheesecake. Because this light dessert is made by Vallone’s son Jeff’s wife (that would be Elizabeth) in her own kitchen. And I must say, it’s way easier to eat than the octopus.