Tagliata di Manzo al Rosmarino at Trattoria Toscana

^{Photo: JOEL VEAK}

Celebrity chefs spend big to make sure you know their faces, building whizzy, headshot-laden websites and employing an army of PR flacks to get their mugs in the press and on food TV. Talented? Sure, but many seem to spend more time in makeup than actually cooking in their restaurants. Then there are the working chefs, artisans apparently driven not by the promise of fame but the desire to make an honest living in their profession. No empire, no marketing team - just one restaurant and a place at the stove every night, week in and week out. You might know their food, but you probably don't know them.

Zamir Kociaj, chef/owner of Trattoria Toscana (130 Jersey Street, Boston, 617.247.9508), is of the latter type. He's in the teensy open kitchen of his 26-seat restaurant in the Fenway every night, cooking every single dish served in his dining room. When he goes on holiday, the place closes. His is a real trattoria, selling humble fare at workingman's prices. Trained in Tuscany, he honors the essential lesson of its rustic, unfussy cuisine: take top-quality ingredients - extra-virgin olive oil, coarse bread, legumes, salumi, fresh herbs, offal, roasted meats - and let them speak. A useful example is his burrata con sott'olio e fettunta (a steal at $10), a perfect whole specimen served with mushrooms, dried tomatoes, olives, and garlic-rubbed grilled bread. Ribollita Toscana ($9) likewise exemplifies Tuscany's poverty-driven frugality, turning day-old bread, cannellini beans, and cavolo nero into a heartwarming, delectable porridge.

Tuscany is not famed for its pastas, so Kociaj skips about Italy for inspiration. His primi are essential to any meal here. Consider the perfectly creamy/firm risotto ai porcini ($17) with heaven-scented fresh porcini imported from Italy; rigatoni alla carrettiera ($16) in a tomato sauce made fierce with red pepper, garlic, and smoked pancetta; and pappardelle con salsiccia e funghi ($16), delicate, wide ribbons sauced with house-made sausage and many mushrooms. Even a secondo of tagliata di manzo al rosmarino ($25) treats a luxury ingredient (beef sirloin) with eminent restraint, grilling it simply with oil, rosemary, and salt, serving it thin-sliced with beautiful grilled vegetables: peppers, summer squash, tomatoes, and radicchio. A 2005 Salcheto Vino Nobile di Montepulciano (another bargain at $56), a gorgeously rich, pure-Sangiovese Tuscan red, hits the mid-point of a thoughtful, Italian-focused wine list. In the end, what draws patrons back here is not some kind of manufactured glamour, but how adeptly and modestly Kociaj captures the limpid, sunny soul of Tuscan cooking. I expect that is exactly how he prefers it.