Life, indeed, is fair. The longest-running Italian restaurant in Coral Gables actually is one of the least expensive and best. It has been in the same hands for 15 years, nice people, not even Italian, but imbued with the notion that the best Italian begins with freshly made pasta.

Klaus and Amy Frisch, he German-Estonian, she Austrian, opened a pasta factory in the mid-'80s, inspired by a friend in Switzerland who was making a killing producing pasta at retail. The thought was to sell pasta over the counter, and that the venue would serve only samples to entice people to go home with some. This idea caught on, to say the least. The factory outgrew the Ponce de Leon digs, they expanded to supply restaurants and caterers and even Marriott and Disney, and suddenly found themselves long-term-leased to a spot that couldn't house their pasta plant.

What to do? Put on a show? No. They opened the restaurant that today is known as Bugatti, a sit-down space, not a shop; a Gables meeting place where they use their noodles to utmost extent. Now you can get a pizza as entree, or a risotto, or even a salad, but the bulk of the dinners here are pasta. You will not leave without eating noodles, and you will be better for it.

Frisch insists there has been some redecoration over the years, but the setting appears lifted out of That '80s Show, with avocados and beiges and browns and other Morning In America hues, and vinyl booths as primary seating. Service has an old-school no-nonsense feel, and you can pretty much bank on getting in and out of here in less than an hour.

Except, of course, on the first Wednesday of the month, when Bugatti has its legendary lasagna. There is a line out the door for this, and the Frisches cannot find time for small talk this day. The casserole is of beef and veal, layers of noodle, carrot, tomato, a month's worth of indulgence.

Other things are lighter and brighter, more healthful, not as talked-about but every bit as good. Take the antipasto, reasonably priced at $7. This consists of sauteed shiitakes, roasted peppers, pickled artichoke hearts, Kalamata olives and a bed of peppery-sharp arugula dressed with an Italian house vinaigrette. You'll notice the lack of cheese, a common trait here with the exception of, say, the lasagna.

Fennel, arugula, Parmesan, Belgian endive salad ($6.50/$10) is billed as either starter or entree, and we'd say only the bird-like eater goes for this as main plate. Get the big one as a starter, we say, and enjoy the luxe mix of vegetables with a minimum of shaved cheese to bind. Dressing is a puckery and fresh lemon vinaigrette, with lemon juice and a bit of olive oil, pepper and salt. Fresh vegetables, interestingly prepared.

Another substitute entree possibility is pizza, and again, we opted for this as appetizer. Pizza frutti di mare ($12) is a thin, Italian-style crust of homemade dough, made daily, piled thick with baby scallops, lobster meat and pieces of shrimp, held together with a pesto base instead of tomato sauce, but with plenty of garlic and a small amount of Parmesan, should you wish. This is a delicate yet filling pie.

Gnocchi pesto ($12) is ring around the rosey, literally. Homemade potato gnocchi are dredged in a thick, more hearty than zesty pesto sauce, and they dance around the plate's centerpiece, a baked tomato half coated with Parmesan and a thin slab of mozzarella. They're served on an exceptionally hot plate, which helps the gnocchi retain their warmth against the chilling pesto; the plates are separately warmed in the oven. Gnocchi are not the world's lightest, but this makes a good standard.

Speaking of standards, there's spaghetti di vongole ($12), homemade noodles tossed with white wine, much garlic and clam juice, a simple dish elevated by fresh pasta and tender baby clams. This has lots of Italian parsley, no cheese, and only salt and pepper to season.

And then the delicacy, with lobster ravioli ($16). Lots of lobster in use for a place with such low prices. This begins with a brandied cream sauce flavored with caramelized onions and, if you special-request, a little bit of Parmesan (Frisch prefers it that way). To stuff the homemade pillows of pasta, plain lobster meat is sauteed with butter and onion and pulse-ground till slightly chunky. You don't want it too coarse, but you don't want a mousse, so there's something to bite into. And there is, indeed. In each bite of the eight ravioli on your plate, you'll detect plenty of lobster, and the sauce is silken, salty-sweet and outstanding.

Keeping it creamy, we finished with zabaglione with strawberries ($6). This is sabayon cream made in advance and chilled, which means you get it right away instead of waiting out the 20-minute preparation process. It's a foam of fresh whole eggs, Marsala wine and Chardonnay, sugar, with a bit of whipped cream folded in at the end. The cream is dotted with fresh berries, or, if you prefer, a cookie.