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Sometimes walls really do talk. At Amiconi, an Italian restaurant that’s been welcoming Melbourne for 63 years, the cork-lined walls tell stories in wedding portraits, caricatures, newspaper clippings, baby snaps, horse racing memorabilia and photographs of epic fishing trips.

What does it all say? This cosy room is lived in and – more importantly – loved in.

In 1960, Angela and Francesco Amiconi and their son Guy opened an espresso bar where Italians sipped coffee and played scopa. Card playing is a hungry business, so Angela would make osso buco, maybe bolognese, to keep patrons fuelled.

Amiconi is old-school: portions are generous, trends are unknown.

Guy and his wife Paula later turned Amiconi into more of a restaurant and – snap your fingers, it’s 2023 – here we are eating calamari and livers and linguine.

Co-owner Michael Cardamone bought the restaurant from the Amiconis in 1982 when he ditched accounting for food. After doing the books for restaurants, he thought there was more money in lunches than ledgers – ah, you have to love the 1980s!

Since 2007, Cardamone’s partners are Joe Musso, a chef here for 30 years, and Vince Alfonso, who’s cooked here for 25 years and also works as a waiter. The consistency, the absolute anchoring in community, and a bedrock belief in sincere hospitality are what make this restaurant.

Favourite dishes include baked mushrooms made this way since before man landed on the moon. Stuffed with parmesan, garlic and butter, they’re a fail-safe way to launch a meal into the stratosphere.

Just about everyone has the tender calamari, cut thin on a meat slicer that Guy Amiconi modded in the 1960s.

There are always chicken livers, expertly grilled and served with balsamic dressing.

The kitchen turns out 60 kilograms of lovingly handmade potato gnocchi each week: it’s served alla matriciana with bacon and shallots.

Of course, pasta is popular, too. There’s a marinara with mixed seafood, but I love the linguine tossed with chilli and garlic prawns, a little wine and fresh tomato, then tumbled with rocket and pistachios.

Veal can be a controversial meat, but anyone who consumes dairy should probably eat baby boy calves. The scallopini alla arrabbiata sees milk-fed veal pan-fried in a sizzle of brandy, finished with napoli, parmesan and chicken stock. It’s sweet and tender with a subtle nudge of chilli.

The wine list does the job, but you can also BYO. Amiconi is old-school: portions are generous, trends are unknown, stock and jus is made on-site.

They’re not immune to innovation, though. Tiramisu is built in a cylindrical mould, rich with house-made marsala-spiked zabaglione, layered with sponge fingers, coffee and mascarpone cream.

It’s a reworked classic, presented with the warmth and pride that ripples through the whole restaurant. Long live Amiconi.