There are certain places that we come upon once in a while — be they pubs, or seaside villages, or restaurants — which instill in us the hope that they never become too popular. It’s an understandable desire. We want that place just to ourselves, and our friends, but at the very same time we wish for the place to prosper, for the sake of its survival as well as the reward for the owner, inhabitants, or barkeep. We want to tell everyone, and no one, and we drive ourselves in circles with the moral and logical implications of each argument. It’s no fun, to be sure.

I would be doing no credit to the owners of Rachel’s L’Osteria if I claimed in any small way that it was only recently discovered by anybody, let alone myself. Laura and Robert Butler, the husband-and-wife team who own and operate the restaurant, ran Rachel’s Wood Grill in no less a prominent location than Upper Exchange for years. Their recent November move out of the Old Port and off the peninsula to Woodford Street did, however, leave many people wondering where they went. It is in this vein that they are to be "rediscovered": in an unassuming 81-year-old storefront, quietly preparing marvelous Italian cuisine for both in-the-know loyalists and fortunate new neighbors. So, wife Jackie and I felt like we were the only ones who knew about it as we sat in the almost-empty dining room last Tuesday night. We were finding a hidden gem, and we slyly grinned at each other over our menus.

Then, almost on cue, the place got three-quarters full. Hmmm. Not as crafty as we thought.

We really couldn’t be blamed for wanting the place all to ourselves. It has a cozy 30-seat capacity, the small kitchen cornered off by three-quarter walls so you can peek in to see what chef Laura is doing. A tiny fireplace, built into one of the walls, flickers fingers of light over the exposed brick and wood of the dining area and bar. Robert, dressed casually in jeans, with eyeglasses hanging jauntily off one ear, led us to a deuce and handed us menus as well as their award-winning wine list. It’s monstrous, with many half-bottle choices and wines by the glass, from every region of the old and new worlds of winemaking. After a bit of staring, we settled (with Robert’s help) on a half-bottle of 2000 Louis Jadot Pouilly Fuisse, an earthy white burgundy that fell comfortably between oaky and crisp.

The food is beautiful. Chef Laura, working by herself, composes rustic, balanced plates that belie her training in perhaps the Northeast’s most famous Italian restaurant: Al Forno in Providnce, Rhode Island. My Fennel, Potato, and Aged Parmesan Salad was a study in rough chop, the chunky bites of roasted fennel and potato sprinkled with olive oil, blood orange juice, and large cross sections of the blood oranges themselves. The garnish is barely chopped parsley, allowing for the full flavor of the herb to come through (the more you mince herbs, the less they tastes like the herbs themselves). Jackie refused to believe anything could be better than her Pane e Gamberetti, a shrimp and garlic bruschetta with a mascarpone, proscuitto, and roasted red pepper sauce. It was, again, an almost perfect blend of flavors, roughly tied together by the garlic butter that was drizzled over the whole plate.

The entrée I ordered came as a result of a small mix up. I wanted to ask for the Pappardelle Ragu del Carne (ribbon pasta with a lamb, pork, and beef tomato sauce), but due to some mumbling on my part I ordered something completely different. The upshot of all this is that I received one of their side dishes, the Pasta with Pomodoro sauce, which was about as big as an entrée, and perhaps the best pasta with tomato sauce I have had outside of Italy. It tasted, in true Italian style, like its ingredients — fresh tomato, garlic, basil, cheese, and olive oil — and was so rich that I had to ask if there was butter in it.

Robert’s look registered a hint of insult, and said, "No, she just uses olive oil." I should have known better than to ask.

On the other side of the table was the Pesce Bianco con Fagiole, white fish served over a bed of braised white beans and spinach. The sides also included a sour cucumber salad, and mashed potatoes, again making for a balance of fresh and rich flavors. The portion size was enormous, but the fish and spinach were light enough to not overwhelm my dining partner.

Desserts included a wicked Zuppa Inglese — rum-soaked cake layered with pastry cream, whipped cream, and chocolate sauce — and a bowl of Cannoli Cream with strawberries, whipped cream, and two Pizelle. Both were worth getting a second time. Near the end, Jackie confirmed all of our praise throughout the meal by stating that the tomato sauce reminded her of her grandmother, Santina Damigella. Not quite there, but is it ever?

The food at Rachel’s L’Osteria, ripe for rediscovery, has made a pretty good case that it could be.

Andy King can be reached at snandis@yahoo.com Correction: In the March 5 food piece on Finch’s, I named Rick Barbata as the chef when he had actually quit two weeks before I arrived. Apologies to Chef Rick.