Talk about high concept. A restaurant named Feast or Famine brings to mind some surreal boite design by Douglas Adams, in which a flip of the coin, perhaps, determines whether you get to chow down or just stare vacantly across the table with a napkin tucked under your chin. But no, as chef/proprietor David Sepulveda explains in a brief manifesto at the beginning of his menu: "When it comes to all aspects of food, whether cooking or eating, I think it should be done right, or not done at all. Hence our name."

Feast or Famine has been open for a year-and-a-half, so he must be doing something right. The place is inviting, effectively enough that on my latest visit most tables were filled, resulting in a din that made us raise our own voices in conversation. At the ceiling were not acoustic tiles but, more urgently, a stenciled reminder: "A man hath no better thing under the sun than to eat drink and be merry." Clearly this is a place with a mission, not just a menu.

A European atmosphere prevails, with posters pitching Isolabella aperitif and Montmartre’s Cycles Gladiator. The tables are mostly for two, although the ones assembled for a party of eight when we arrived stayed together for another large group when we left.

I hope Sepulveda doesn’t get in Dutch with the restaurateur union. Considering the proprietor’s passion for food, his lusts apparently don’t extend to filthy lucre. The prices on the pastas — the only main dish offerings — are the cheapest I’ve seen at such a place: $7-$14, but more on these below.

Of the half-dozen appetizers, from grilled Caesar wrap to the crostini of the day, a couple looked particularly interesting. One is the wild mushroom bruschetta ($8), which is deconstructed into big croutons and pieces of shiitake, crimini, and Portobello mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes, and roasted red peppers tossed with essence-of-mushroom dressing.

But two items were so enjoyable on my first visit months before that I had to reprise them. The rolled eggplant appetizer ($7) was a success for two reasons. First of all, the two thin slices of breaded eggplant were fried, filled, topped with both plain marinara and pink vodka sauce, and served while still crisp. The cheese filling, heavy on the chèvre, was a creamy complement to the two-tone topping, one sauce slightly tart, and the other lush. The three of us also had a Gorgonzola salad ($6.50) to share at the beginning of our meal. There were plenty of chopped wild mushrooms in with the pungent crumbled cheese, and the house dressing was a pleasantly sweet enhancement of the usual vinaigrette.

Among sandwiches ($6-$8) there are hamburgers, lamb-burgers and even a Caprese panini, with prosciutto and fresh mozzarella between slices of grilled focaccia. Not very hungry, Johnnie checked out their wood-grilled pizza for her main dish. There are a dozen-and-a-half choices ($8.50-$15), from a three-cheese margarita to a baby clam-bedecked clams casino pie with a white wine tomato sauce. The "anti-vegan" opportunity has meatballs, pepperoni, and bacon. Earlier, I’d enjoyed the "grilled chicken No. 2" for its roasted garlic, but Johnnie chose their pink pizza, which a bite or two of gained unanimous approval. The crust was cracker thin, and the toppings simple but plentiful: Parmesan as well as asiago cheese, sun-dried tomatoes, and fresh mushrooms under that delicate pink vodka sauce. With the ingredients randomly distributed, each bite was a new combination of tastes.

We could build our own pasta plate with choice of sauce on ziti or tortellini, and added chicken, meatballs, or vegetable topping. But I was eager for a dish I’d envied across the table my last time here, the smokehouse ziti ($13), with wild mushrooms, sun-dried tomatoes, and lots of grilled chicken pieces luxuriating in smoked Gouda cream sauce. Yes, it remains delicious in full portions as well as tantalizing samples. Our dinner companion chose the lobster ravioli ($14). Again that pink vodka sauce, this time with complementary roasted red pepper strips on the properly cooked seafood-packed pillows. Instead of the "fresh shellfish of the day" described in the menu, the sauce came over fried calamari. The texture contrast worked well.

Although the desserts are not made in-house, we went for two of the chalkboard temptations anyway (each $5.75). The Key lime pie was not the real McCoy — thickened with gelatin — but the Amaretto torte was enjoyable, with thick, almondy cream between thin layers of yellow cake.

Feast or Famine? It’s an easy decision at this place.

Bill Rodriguez can be reached at bill@billrod.com.