Artú

Donato Frattaroli, chef and owner, opened his 60-seat Prince Street restaurant about four years ago. Its fraternal twin (he resisted the temptation to name it "D-2") is a year old and a third of the size, with prices that run about a dollar higher per item. The restaurants' antipasti, sandwich, and salad menus are nearly identical, but the North End location's entrees appear at Charles Street only as specials, about five or six each night.

Tucked between Hanover Street and North Square, the larger Artú is two long rooms decorated in brick and beige grasscloth. It has what must be the world's only stylish track lighting, bright little halogen lamps that hang low over each table in an arrangement that keeps things bright enough to read without giving the room a clinical glare.

The owner grew up in Abruzzi, in south-central Italy, but Artú works predominantly in a Northern Italian idiom. We started with impetata di cozze ($6.50): mussels sautéed in garlic, white wine, and bay leaves. The bread on the table -- plain, with a thin and crispy crust -- was ideal for sopping up the dish's rich broth.

For antipasto, the Artú ($7.50) was a twist on the classic caprese -- sliced tomatoes, basil, and rounds of mozzarella -- in which the cheese was smoked, and came with a pile of roasted red peppers on a bed of torn lettuce, along with a few plump green Sicilian olives. Fresh tomatoes in February are a tall order, and Artú found decent ones -- bright and juicy, if still detectably winter fruit.

We were intrigued by one of the pasta courses, fusilli con broccoli rabe ($7.25). The fusilli were dense little helixes with a nice bite, and the rabe -- stems, leaves, and a few florets -- came slightly cheesy and vigorously garlicked.

The wine list is short, carefully chosen (though years aren't given), and affordable. We ordered a bottle of Centine, a Rosso di Montalcino produced by Banfi. It turned out to be the '93, with the balance and versatility to handle most of the dishes we ordered. Remarkably, at $16.50 -- the basement of the wine list at many restaurants -- it was one of the most expensive bottles offered.

Entrées arrived quickly. Porchetta ($7.95), roasted pork, came with red peppers, potatoes, and ribbons of marinated eggplant. The meat was tender enough to cut with a firm push of a fork. Petto di pollo Artú ($8.95) was chicken sautéed with the works: anchovies , black olives, mushrooms, capers, and white wine. The olives were basic, pitted and without much tang, but the sauce compensated with a full anchovy flavor and a hint of rosemary.

The winner among the second courses was gamberi arrabbiata over linguine ($11.50). The name literally means "furious shrimp," but to a spice-conditioned palate, the hot and peppery red sauce was more compelling than infuriating: built on a just-briny foundation of anchovy (and, like the chicken, loaded with mushrooms), the sauce came on with a pleasant, progressive warmth.

Artú offers one dessert: a tiny, gemlike tiramisú in a round-bottomed glass, rich with espresso and mascarpone. Cappuccino was unexceptional but fine.

The Charles Street Artú is a cozy storefront that shows the same sort of light-handed sophistication as the North End spot. It has sponged yellow walls, a low ceiling, and a gray stone fireplace -- the widest I've ever seen -- that dominates the room.

This has been my favorite sandwich spot since I've known about it; the roast lamb ($5.75), which comes with marinated eggplant on bread sliced long, is a meal in itself.

A recent dinner began with crusty bread and a dish of olive oil flavored with white peppercorns and rosemary. The crostini misti appetizer ($3.75) was a bit of a disappointment, since all six slices of toast were topped with the exact same salsa of diced tomatoes, garlic, basil, and oil -- not quite the "mix" promised.

A bowl of soup put that out of mind. On a freezing-cold night, the riso con fagioli ($4.75) was piping hot, hearty rice and white beans in a rich tomato base that required great feats of blowing just to cool it enough to swallow. Equally comforting was one of the specials, a three-cheese risotto ($10.95) with romano, mascarpone, and provolone. Poured over the top, a plain, sweetish red tomato sauce with basil provided a nice contrast to the earnest richness of the dish.

Artú's pride is its meats. A leg of lamb -- the same roast used for the sandwich -- is infused with garlic, bay, rosemary, salt, and pepper before slow-roasting. The roast-lamb special ($11.95) was arranged unpretentiously, a spread of nearly medallion-sized slices with a little fat left on, the meat brown and flavorful with just a few spots of pink. The plate was rounded out with soft roasted potatoes, caramelized julienned carrots, and Italian greens (the usual suspects: arugula, radicchio, frisée).

On a slow night, food emerged from the kitchen quickly enough to overwhelm our tiny table, and our waitress (who had also made the tiramisú that night) was happy to drag another table over to serve as a sideboard.

The Charles Street Artú plans to open Sundays this spring, as soon as its beer-and-wine license comes through. In the meantime, drinks are Pellegrino water and a selection of half-sweet Italian fruit sodas.

The newest Zagat survey of Boston restaurants gave Artú high marks for food and affordability, but a dagger for service. Service wasn't a problem on any recent visits; perhaps the secret is to go in winter, since both locations pick up most of their business from foot traffic. The lesson: when single-digit temperatures are keeping everyone else home, steel yourself to the cold and think of Italy.