Less than two years after he launched his namesake restaurant, Iacopo Falai has joined the ranks of the city’s empire builders. Across the street from the first Falai on Clinton Street he put Falai Panetteria, a casual bakery and sandwich shop; now he has added another tier with Caffe Falai. The new spot is neatly styled with the same distinctive white-tile-and-crystal-chandelier look as the other two, but this one is fronted by a broad picture window that encourages spectation both in and out. The casual SoHo glamour attracts the occasional celebrity, but the restaurant is never overly full. It’s a daytime, bring-your-own-wine affair for now, and the doors shut at 8 p.m. — but atmosphere is never neglected. The staff places candles on the tables at sunset to brighten the final hour of service.

Caffe Falai makes no attempt to hit the high notes characteristic of the flagship restaurant, focusing instead on simpler, solider meals with some exceptional peaks of flavor, and some disappointments. The focus is on dishes that require more assembly than cooking: salads, soups, and other basic preparations. But Mr. Falai unleashes a few tricks to make the simple dishes special. For instance, a cream sauce built on salty, mouth-filling Parmesan is a potent part of his arsenal, adding richness and intensity to a root-vegetable salad, a tuna tartare, a risotto, and a wonderful pasta.

Pastas are a strong suit here. A bowl of wide-cut pappardelle ($11) particularly stands out. The noodles are flecked with almond and tossed in a lake of butter with a plethora of delicious mushrooms and tiny cauliflower florets, and the whole dish is finished with the savory cheese sauce in an embarrassment of richness. It’s a beautifully balanced composition though, earthy and ethereal at once and a fine example of the chef’s art. As are his tortelli ($11), fat, twisted pasta pillows filled with smooth, buttery potato purée that make a quirky but congenial companion for the winy helping of Bolognese sauce that’s mounded in the middle of their plate.

Antipasti can be excellent too, like one of baby octopus ($8), its tentacles remarkably tender and bristling with crisp-toasted buds, and set off by strong-flavored olives. But a cold ricotta flan ($7) strewn with roasted tomatoes did not have the freshness and delicacy that would set it apart when I tried it; and the tuna tartare ($10) is an unhappy specimen despite its drizzle of Parmesan cream. The fish is tasty, but whether grinding it into a fine mush was a deliberate decision or just sloppiness, it compares poorly with tartares elsewhere that have actual textural appeal. The eggplant parmigiana ($7) is clumsy too, the vegetable soggy inside a stiff skin, although its cap of balsamic-dribbled fresh mozzarella is of unimpeachable quality.

A plump skin-on filet of branzino ($15), roasted in the little kitchen’s little oven and served in a basil-rich broth, is the best of the main courses: halved brussels sprouts, twists of pancetta, and a lemony glow add up to a scintillating setting for the high-quality fish. Cod ($12) is less lively, afloat in a tomato broth and featuring another trick of Mr. Falai’s that’s less appealing: The menu advertises a “tomato filet” with the cod that the waiter offhandedly explained as “just sliced tomato.” Similarly, the “potato fondant” accompanying the octopus sounded intriguing until it turned out to be just sliced potato. There’s plenty of throwaway menu language in the world, but from a chef who is capable of exhilarating invention, those were palpable disappointments.

The service runs along quintessentially Italian lines: very warm and accommodating but with a languor that might infuriate New York tempers. Ordering a dish does not guarantee that you’ll ever get it, appetizers and main courses arrive in an arbitrary progression, and generally the staff seems happily busy with all sorts of activities except those that involve selling food.

Before heading off on his own, Mr. Falai was Le Cirque’s pastry chef. The dessert menu at Caffe Falai is longer than the dinner menu, and although all of the treats are made in advance and can’t rival the hands-on marvels at Falai, they’re still the best thing the restaurant has to offer. Berry-sauced panna cotta ($5) with an almond filling; crackly shelled apple strudel ($4) and lemon sfogliatelle ($3), cannoli with a croissant-like crust and evocatively rum-scented cream filling: Those make a good starting point for a worthwhile exploration of the contents of the pastry case.

For its peaks — pastas and pastries in particular — Caffe Falai is worth visiting, and it deserves praise as well for its role in the empire. The Caffe holds down the low end comfortably, freeing Mr. Falai for more and more experimentation at the flagship restaurant, which started as excellent modern Italian in 2005 and has gotten steadily better and more creative. It’s worth hoping that the newcomer will continue to evolve as well.

Caffe Falai (265 Lafayette St., between Prince and Spring streets, 917-338-6207).