Afternoon passersby can watch a master soba maker at work in the display window of Sobakoh. Chef-owner Hiromitsu Takahashi mixes a blend of organic buckwheat flour (for flavor) and wheat flour (for texture) with water into a perfectly smooth dough, painstakingly rolls it thin, and cuts it into the day’s supply of skinny, delicate noodles. If this stretch of Fifth Street weren’t one of the East Village’s most secluded blocks, the daily noodling would be a very effective advertisement for the restaurant; as it is, the spectacle is worth a detour.

Inside, the rest of the small, serene space is put to attractive use.The middle of the room is left empty, while tables are loosely arranged along one wall with what some restaurants would consider prodigal use of space – the previous occupant, Mojo, crammed in nearly twice as many seats, with considerably less comfort. A sushi-style counter accommodates a few more patrons and affords a view of the kitchen. Texture, from the beautiful-grained polished wood tables to the brick and stone-tiled walls to the knurls on the counter, is as important in the well-lit, subtle decor as it is in the cooking. Just a couple of servers tend to the whole restaurant. Non-Japanese-speaking customers (of which there are seldom a majority) may find a small language barrier, but the prevailing hospitality paves over any difficulty.

Of course, the noodle-making isn’t just for show. This freshly handmade organic soba is as different from store-bought dried soba as fresh vegetables are from canned: suppler and rougher, with more body and much more nutty, robust taste. At Sobakoh, the noodles are served in a variety of traditional ways, but also used in several inventive preparations. The traditional dishes – bowls of hot or cold soba with various additions – occupy half of the menu. The other half lists small plates that can serve as appetizers or sides in conjunction with a bowl of soba, or combine into a meal.

Age-soba ($3) is a great place to start: an elementally simple nest of soba, deep-fried until it’s mahogany-colored and addictively crunchy, and sprinkled with sea salt. Other small plates have terrific, punchy flavor, such as slices of smoked albacore tuna ($8.50) topped with a savory miso sauce. The pale fish has a mild freshness with just a hint of smoke around the edges, and the touch of heat in the sauce lends roundness and complexity. A miso marinade deepens a few simple grilled dishes. Quail ($8) has a semisweet dark-red glaze and tender, rich meat set off by a sprinkling of sansho “pepper”; a small Chilean sea bass filet ($9) is exquisitely moist and full-flavored in a similar preparation. Sobakoh’s chawan mushi ($7) excels as well: a luxurious, silky steamed custard made with delicately savory broth and filled with morsels of crab meat, ginkgo nuts, and shiitake mushrooms.

Some dishes miss their marks – largely ones where soba is pressed into duties beyond its capacity. Soba “gnocchi” ($7) is one of these: big brown balls with an uncompelling pasty texture, enclosing minced chicken; any flavor the dish has is provided by the thin, brothy sauce. Soba “risotto” ($8) suffers similarly: a buckwheat-lovers’ bowl of toobland grain, to which bits of crabmeat and shiitakes contribute interest but not quite enough. A large marinated broiled squid ($8), despite its alluring brilliant magenta color and delicate surface browning, has all the chewy deliciousness of a rubber dog toy; the soy dipping sauce that is its only adornment drowns rather than heightens the poor squid’s taste.

But those few flops are easily skirted. The house sobas are uniformly great. Not quite large enough to form a full meal, they pair well with the small dishes above and form the satisfying core of the Sobakoh experience. Hot sobas come in an exceptional, full-flavored broth, soothing and mellow, with a hint of sweetness and acid from fragments of yuzu zest. They can be ordered plain – just noodles in broth – which provides a chance to really appreciate the quality and nuance of the soba one spoon- and chopstick-ful at a time ($8.50). Or the bowl can be dressed up with various additions. Kinoko soba ($13) includes fresh shimeji, shiitake, and enoki mushrooms. Vegetable or shrimp tempura sobas include samples of the restaurant’s top-notch, fluffy-battered tempura ($12 for vegetable, $18 for shrimp). The single enormous shrimp in particular makes an excellent contribution.

Cold soba dishes provide a refreshing alternative, particularly in hot weather; they’re served with a light, tangy sauce on the side that can be poured over the noodles to taste. The plain version runs $8, and fancier versions include vegetable ($12), shrimp ($18), or soft-shell crab ($15) tempura on the side. A terrific variant adds a luxurious topping of sea urchin and salmon roe ($18), both of excellent quality, which transform the dish into a rich marine treat, to which piquant radish sprouts give subtle contrast.

Green-tea mousse or thick gray-black sesame pudding (each $5) provide an off-sweet finish to the meal, with flavors that are perhaps a little too retiring to complement the food they follow, and to fully scratch the dessert itch.

To drink, Sobakoh offers two dry Sapporo lagers ($5-$8), Hugel’s Alsatian apple-y, medium-bodied “Gentil” white wine ($7 glass/$20 bottle), and about 20 sakes, of which half can be ordered by the glass.The staff doesn’t provide much guidance regarding unfamiliar areas of the list, but trial and error among these sakes can be a delightful process. A namazake – or unpasteurized young sake – from Masumi is currently featured ($10/$60); it has a unique fresh, light, flowery flavor well suited to the season. Another namazake, from Akitabare ($6.50/$35), has a dryer, fuller taste with less complexity. And mild, balanced Koshiki Junzukuri ($16 bottle), also from the Akitabare brewery, makes a sturdy, affordable foil to the food.

For the quality of its offerings – even just its ingredients – and compared to its competitors, Sobakoh is impressively affordable. The cooking sticks close to the soba-centric niche that it carries off so well, although many of the small menu’s other dishes show potential, too. Add in the free daily entertainment that the restaurant provides to the neighborhood, and there’s very little to dislike.

Sobakoh, 309 E. 5th St., 212-254-2244.