Matthew Kenney, impresario of dramatic restaurants like Commune, Canteen, and Pure Food and Wine, has set his sights lower with Winebar. This low-key East Village venture has none of the sheen of its forebears, not in the spare dining room and not on the menu. Walls of wine bottles and a big glowing wood oven suffice for decoration. Seating is at high, narrow communal counters in tidy rows. Despite the host’s welcoming query -“Two for dinner?” – the arrangement is more conducive to limited-duration sipping and snacking than to a full meal. And the menu is configured the same way: designed for just a glass or two of wine and a bite of food, after the theater or before dinner elsewhere.

The selection of wines – about 40 reds and 40 whites, a quarter of them available by the glass – is well rounded but lacks depth. Spain, Italy, and France are represented evenly, but Winebar is neither the place to find a great undiscovered bottle nor to have a transporting wine experience. Prices range from the low $30s, for a number of highly drinkable bottles including the Pazo Pondal albarino and a full chardonnay from Chateau Gibalaux Bonnet. Over time, the restaurant has been filling out the higher end of its list, and now it is possible to spend as much as $130, for a highly rated 2000 barolo from Mauro Veglio.

Good by-the-glass options include the simple “Maximum” Burgundy from Laboure-Roi ($8); a ripe, mouth-filling Les Forots Cotes du Rhone ($12); and a fine, fresh-tasting white made in the south of Italy from the falanghina grape ($10). The staff is a little diffident and unhelpful when it comes to helping one choose, although they do seem to know their inventory when pressed. A flight of three four-ounce pours can be had for $19, which is useful for making inroads into unfamiliar regions of the list.

Though the wine selection isn’t strong or interesting enough to drive the Winebar experience on its own, chef Sean Olnowich’s punchy Mediterranean food does its best to pick up the slack. Mr. Olnowich, who cooked at Olives, offers a collection of dishes in sizes from small to somewhat less small.

Patrons can share a few snacks from the top half of the menu – a cheese plate, a dip platter – or order individual plates from the lower half that are larger but not quite entree-sized. The dishes are wine-friendly, with strong but smooth-edged flavors, and few surprises.

A cheese platter ($15) includes Manchego, aged Asiago, fresh Spanish Arzua, and soft Robiola Bosina, accompanied by almonds and membrillo quince paste. It’s a nice nibble, but from one mild-flavored cheese to the next there’s not much contrast on the plate. Better, if less Mediterranean, is the yellowtail crudo ($13): five sashimi-sized pieces of raw yellowtail, interspersed with matching citrus segments and topped with a little bitter zest and coarse salt. The fish and the fruit together are cool, refreshing, and pleasantly bland – a worthy match to a flinty white like the Raimbault Sancerre ($10/$40).

But Mr. Olnowich’s food is best when it takes a turn in the brick oven. He tops a thick sourdough crostino ($10) with an entire salad of wonderfully flavorful

heirloom tomatoes of all shapes and colors, sweetly roasted as well as raw. The whole thing soaks in a swirl of tomato juice and basil oil that saturates the crusty bread underneath. A panoply of small flatbread pizzas – each made to order, with thin, crisp crusts and savory, rich toppings – make for the best snacking on offer. One, made with fontina cheese and meaty chanterelle mushrooms ($14), is balanced with an admirably understated drizzle of truffle oil. Another mingles the complex flavors of Gorgonzola, figs, and prosciutto ($15); the interaction of this dish with various wines is so enjoyable, it’s tempting to order a few of these flatbreads and pair them with glass after glass.

The larger dishes aren’t quite large enough to qualify as main courses, and aren’t really configured for sharing either. Ten or so medium Manila clams ($12) bathe in dry sherry with roasted tomatoes. The clams have good flavor, but the liquid is too salty to be enjoyed on its own or with bread (provided only upon request). A small skin-on piece of branzino ($14) is fine but forgettable; chunks of parsnip and twists of onion dotting the plate don’t suffice to set it apart. Roasted monkfish ($15) offers more. Its sweet, slightly tough flesh vigorously complemented by black olives, capers, and tomatoes. Better still is a sliced roasted loin of lamb ($15), to which apricots, almonds, coriander, and a cucumber-yogurt sauce give a delicious North African savor.

In a city with such a wealth of new, casual restaurants offering broad, inventive wine lists as an accompaniment to impressive food, Winebar’s attempt to push its average list onto center stage falls a bit flat. Aroma, a block away, does the same thing much better, with a wine list you can get lost in and solid cooking that stays out of the spotlight. Winebar is comfortable and more than adequate for a social nibble. But those who seek a square meal or a wine discovery may leave disappointed.

Winebar, 65 Second Ave., near 4th Street, 212-777-1608.