It's 7:30 pm on a balmy Friday evening, and I'm in a restaurant on Staten Island in the arms of someone else's grandma.

Grandma Maria is telling my group which items to order, and it is, in fact, everything on the menu. Then she mentions how she attended a premiere with Vince Vaughn earlier that week, and my movie-obsessed ears perk right up. I realize then that I'm at the Nonna's (a.k.a. Enoteca Maria), the restaurant that inspired a new Netflix movie, "Nonna's," which drops today.

The film stars Vaughn, Susan Sarandon, and Italian-movie royalty like Lorranie Bracco and Talia Shire. My friend Dorothy had made the reservation over a month ago, long before I knew this movie existed, and I told her I was in with absolutely no intention of writing about my visit. The spot has been a local legend for a while. Still, I wasn't sure if the word had spread outside of the Tri-State area, so once Grandma Maria regaled us with stories of her night on the red carpet, I knew I had a duty to the Delish audience—who will no doubt watch this movie in the days to come—to deliver a full report on this place.

Does the real-life Nonna's live up to the Hollywood hype? Here's everything I learned, ate, and observed at this soon-to-be-even-more-famous restaurant.

At the time of writing, I had not seen the film—only the trailer. So I can’t say with certainty how much of the restaurant's real history is portrayed in the movie. But during my visit, the owner, Joe Scaravella, was behind the bar and answered all my questions about how this special place came to be.

Scaravella said his Nonna Domenica had passed down a love of food and tradition, and when his own mother passed away, he wanted a way to honor them both. He opened Enoteca Maria (named for his mother) in 2007 with a rotating roster of Italian grandmothers from different regions of Italy, all cooking their family recipes. According to the New York Times, Scaravella welcomed the first non-Italian nonna in 2017, and he's been inviting grandmothers from all over the world ever since. Half the menu stays consistently Italian, while the other half changes daily to showcase different global cuisines.

He told our group he doesn't need to source his own grandmothers to cook; people from all over the country come in or write to him to pitch why their grandma deserves a spot in the kitchen. A calendar of the nonnas and their home country can always be found on the restaurant's website. The night we visited, we enjoyed food from Nonna Diana from Mexico.

Once seated, my table of eight hungry New Yorkers was overwhelmed by choice. Should we stick to Italian classics? Should we go all-in with our nonna from Mexico's picks? Wait, there is also a menu section with dishes from a Japanese nonna?! That's when Nonna Maria arrives at our table and immediately throws her arms around my friend Erin and me. She made her aforementioned recommendation (order everything), and our friendly server agreed and promised to advise if we go overboard. So we go absolutely ham on every section of the menu. For apps, we go for burrata and tomato, a mint-pistachio-feta dip, classic meatballs, and an enormous shrimp cocktail. We paired it with a hilariously named, but wonderful, bottle of Grandpa Cha Cha's Homestyle Wine.

It's early May, so I didn't expect the tomatoes served with the burrata to be good, but alas, they are perfect. And oh lord, the meatballs. I have long wanted to basically live in the wedding scene from The Godfather (please set me up with your Italian sons, grandsons, cousins, etc). But until I can join an Italian family for real, I've focused on eating as much Italian food as possible—see my chicken parm obsession—so I've had my fair share of meatballs. But there was something transcendent about these. They practically melted in my mouth, while the sauce struck the perfect balance between sweet and tart flavors.

For our entrees, we went all around the world: Beef and pork stew served with beans and homemade tortillas from Mexico, chicken yakitori skewers and Japanese eggplant from Japan, and lasagna and roasted rabbit from Italy.

You know when you go to a diner and think the menu is too large for everything to actually taste good? That is decidedly not the case at Enoteca Maria. Everything is obviously made with care, and the flavors are all rich and comforting, and exactly what you remember from whatever cuisine your grandma made for you. The concept is wholesome and sweet; it made me both grateful to these grandmas for sharing their food with us, and tearfully nostalgic for my own Grandma's Juanita's meatloaf or the sound of my Grandma Helen telling me to eat my beets because they'd make my hair curly (I did not want curly hair).

Finally, I must set the scene. Located on a picturesque, historic street, about a 10-minute walk from the Staten Island Ferry terminal, the restaurant's interior is small, but cozy. The one thing I couldn't resist noting about the decor is that, beyond the classic assorted dollar bills on the wall, there are inexplicably comic book and other pop culture figurines everywhere. Batman, Joker, Spider-Man, and more surrounded our table. Kids from the family or those who had visited clearly made the art on the walls. Excellent, home-y vibes all around.

This place is a delight. The food and service are excellent, and it's easy to see why people come from all over to experience its schtick. But the restaurant's charm extends well beyond the food. While I'm excited to see how the movie tries to capture the magic of this restaurant, I highly recommend visiting in person if you can. Its combination of warmth and nostalgia creates something truly worthy of the silver screen.