For every chef who would do anything to get into the headlines, there's another who would rather be reading the papers than be in them. 

I get the impression that Eugenio (Gege) Riva doesn't want anyone to get overexcited about him suddenly cooking in Glebe, four years after leaving the glamorous rooftop Uccello at The Ivy. He probably just wants to turn up, cook, feed people, and go home again.

Well, good luck to him, but one of the realities of modern life is that once you have a name, people follow you.

And if you have followed Riva from his 13 years at Lucio's in Paddington to his own Ristorante Riva with wife Beverley in Surry Hills in the late'90s, or even had his food for the first time at Uccello, you'd be forgiven for getting a little bit excited.

That he has chosen to join Riccardo Roberti's six-month-old Tinello in Glebe Point Road's historic Valhalla building is indication enough that his aims are relatively modest.

The wall of wine, the dark bentwood chairs, marble bar and split-level terrazzo floor sweetly beckon those on dog-walking duties on the street.

Two of the loveliest Italian words in existence head the menu: Da Dividere, to share, offering warm olives, arancini, that type of thing. Four small crostini smeared with smooth chicken liver pate ($14) topped with a wedge of ripe fig make a great little kick-off.

For primi, there's grilled cotechino sausage ($21) with a rubble of mustard fruits on a strangely creamy and crunchy lentil base.

Pasta is listed under secondi, along with grilled quails and grilled hanger steak, but a dish of fine tagliolini with small prawns, shredded salt cod, chilli, olives, capers and pinenuts ($31) is blah; the fresh pasta a steamy wad and the flavours insipid.

The kitchen is on a stronger footing with straightforward meat dishes, such as the slow-roasted duck ($38) of your dreams.

The beautifully crisp skin and full-flavoured meat are seasonally paired with roasted root vegetables and a wodge of wilted cavolo nero, a ducky jus pooling on the plate.

Wine is a focus; the list a surprise packet of well-regarded old/new world labels put together by consultant Dennis Roman, that includes a brilliantly savoury complex, Greco di Tufo from Campania, the 2015 Feudi di San Gregorio ($17/$78).

In certain circles, it's almost a novelty to eat Italian food that is still Italian – pasta that hasn't been Nordicised into "pasta, egg, urchin, whey"; risotto that hasn't been Japanesed into "rice, miso, celeriac, togarashi". 

There's something comforting for both chef and diner when the cooking is just cooking; free of the pressures of reinvention, novelty and ego.

Today's crostata ($16), for instance, is a tranche of farro, plum and brown butter tart that is what it is: sweet, nutty and homely. 

So go, relax, enjoy. But don't go because it's a famous chef, or because you want to tell Instagram you were there first; go just because you feel like sharing some decent trattoria food over a glass of wine, with caring Italian service.

Lower your expectations, raise your enjoyment. And maybe sign out of Instagram and power off your smartphone while you're at it.

Terry Durack is chief restaurant critic for The Sydney Morning Herald and senior reviewer for the Good Food Guide. This rating is based on the Good Food Guide scoring system.

The low-down

Best bit: The sweet, smart, wine-bar space.

Worst bit: The loo is down the street.