When a restaurant bears the name of its chef, be it ill-fated Grayz (whose founding namesake, Gray Kunz, departed this month) or Gordon Ramsay’s tepid Gordon Ramsay, the name on the sign often seems like a substitute for — rather than a token of — any personality within. JoeDoe is an unlovely name for a restaurant, but it feels like a true expression of its chef, Joe Dobias.

Mr. Dobias has cooked at Savoy, and his menu at JoeDoe has a similar foundation in thoughtfully sourced ingredients. But here, they’re tossed together with a somewhat wilder hand. In the depths of a broad-brimmed bowl nestles a hot mess of big, slippery tapioca pearls mingled with crumbled sausage, out of which a trail of red and white hunks of lobster meat startlingly claws its way up, into a slick of minty watermelon gazpacho pooled on the lip of the bowl ($15). It’s not the most intuitive of flavor combinations, but it’s an unexpectedly satisfying appetizer.

The chef cures good raw scallops in Veev, a trendy vodka flavored with acai berries and marketed for its antioxidant properties, which gives the firm meat a mild sweetness. It’s as good a use as any for vodka. We got four scallops on our $12 plate, as generous a scallop appetizer as I’ve ever seen. If those (and a couple of other freebies) were special treatment, they came not because my reviewer’s incognito was busted, but because we were the only customers in the restaurant. JoeDoe was still awaiting its liquor license — a lack that can kill a New York restaurant — and, largely undiscovered, on a quiet block, was doing slow business. Brunch, during which time JoeDoe gathers the overflow from Prune across the street, is significantly busier.

The room, like the cooking, has a personal, quirky feel, decorated with a tasteful collection of kitsch, and the chef has a full view of his customers as he works in a tiny, open kitchen.

There’s little surprise in a plate of liver sandwiches ($10), just sheer enjoyment. Fluffy challah is sliced square and spread just thickly enough with a luxurious chicken liver pâté, to which strips of bacon and ribbons of browned onion add almost too much rich savor. Alongside, a big helping of sweet, cinnamony peach compote complements the liver to a T.

Nothing among the main courses I tried was quite as delicious as the best of the starters. “Cod Irish style” ($25) is a pale and tender piece of fish. The first flaky bite off the top is mild — then you discover the virtues of the creamy broth underneath the cod and make sure every subsequent bite is well soaked in the salty, rustic soup of ale, bacon, and cabbage. A sliced steak ($29) of superb grass-fed beef is a little overwhelmed by the Asian flavorings on the plate, which include such clever touches as a leaf of bok choy fried to a salty crisp, and a sesame noodle salad with spaetzle instead of mein.

Portions run to the enormous, so that it feels at times as if the chef is trying to weigh down his customers so much that they can’t leave — the meal starts with a complimentary pound or so of addictive batter-fried chickpeas — but to fill up before dessert would be criminal. One dessert in particular was a plate of banana bread that would be moist and sweet on its own, but that with a dousing of butter, maple syrup, and rum becomes remarkable, and with a heap of caramelized banana and ice cream on top unearthly.

A restaurant that expresses its proprietor’s individuality is an admirable thing, but ultimately only as worthwhile as the proprietor makes it. Joe Dobias has some delicious ideas. Armed with a liquor license, as it may or may not be by the time you read this, young JoeDoe promises a bright future.

JoeDoe (45 E. 1st St., between First and Second avenues, 212-780-0262).

adams@pote.com