MaryAnn Brancaccio and Maria Vanni, who met more than three decades ago during the month of August (thus, the name), have transformed this South Philadelphia corner into a charming and personal New Italian bistro.

It also happens to be (what else?) a BYOB.

But the city's current fever for the latest bring-your-own - any BYO, it seems - can last only so long. Is it enough to sustain a restaurant that has potential to spare but is still working through some issues?

The space, formerly a Thai restaurant, was rehabbed and reopened seven months ago as an oasis of contemporary urban style. The dining room has been darkened with an earthy palette of deep eggplant, olive and jute on the walls and ceiling, heavy louvered blinds, and textured black tablecloths.

It's a nice contrast to the garlic-scented flash of flames that issues from the shiny open kitchen at the back of the room. And, with not a glass block or white tile in sight, it feels more like a modern urban hideaway than your typical South Philly joint.

Brancaccio's menu may be inspired in part by her Italian upbringing. But it, too, is at its best when it veers from the neighborhood's traditional flavors, fanning warm, mint-flecked shrimp over a cool rosette of roasted beets, or pairing crisp seared scallops with peppery watercress salad.

As comfortable as it looks, though, August takes the prize for cramming too many people around small tables. Six diners are wedged at a rectangle meant for four, four around a side table for two, etc. No wonder the room explodes with noise on weekends, despite all the sound buffering that its carpeting and fabric walls might offer.

Vanni, a dining-room veteran of Le Bec-Fin, the Restaurant at PSFS, and Avenue B, does her best to compensate for the tight quarters with a warm welcome and pleasant, well-trained servers. August also gets extra style points for decent glassware and for the black-and-white family photographs on the menu covers, which give the restaurant a sweet tinge of hommage.

The same impulse does not work for Brancaccio's menu, however, where occasional references to flavors from her childhood table don't always translate well to a restaurant setting.

Much of the menu, Brancaccio told me, was tested on friends and family before the restaurant opened, and it leans toward some of her nostalgic ideals. But that strategy can backfire. Friends and family are seldom honest enough to tell you that customers would rather eat freshly peeled artichoke hearts than August's canned ones. Or that a pair of thin supermarket-grade pork chops are less appealing than the thicker, more succulent naturally raised ones served at other BYOs around town.

Yet, when made with better ingredients, Brancaccio's food shows promise. Her salad of beets and shrimp, elevated by a whiff of fresh mint, is a match made in heaven. The spinach salad is a bounty of fresh greenery accented with crumbled bacon, chewy cubes of provolone, and sweet apples piqued by a tart sherry vinaigrette.

And some of the best entrees rise on the satisfaction of simple contrasts executed well. Perfectly al dente farfalle and fistfuls of lump crab are glazed with cream infused with porcini mushrooms and sun-dried tomatoes.

Seared tuna finds extra spark in a chunky tomato sauce enlivened with cherry peppers. The seared tilapia could have been better seasoned, but it had a nice creamy risotto garnish flecked with scallions and cilantro.

When August disappointed, it was more because of lax technique than weak ideas. I loved the notion of a crabcake served over creamed corn, but the cake was pan-fried to a chewy, hard crisp and the corn was decidedly uncreamy. The August roll, essentially a spring roll stuffed with angel-hair pasta and vegetables, was doughy and unevenly cooked.

I don't mind paying a fair price in the mid-$20s for good meat, especially at a place where no other entrees top $19. Still, the filet mignon was unremarkable for $24 and its subtle flavor was overwhelmed by the charred taste from the grill. That bitter char was even more pronounced on the veal porterhouse, which seemed a little skimpy and tough for $27. But I loved the risotto, cleverly studded with the pop of whole roasted pine nuts, that arrived alongside.

August's desserts were more consistent, from the moist chocolate truffle torte to the low-rise pecan tart and the creme brulee.

My favorite, though, was a wedge of "Aunt Lena's" cheesecake. It seemed like an ordinary slice of cinnamon-dusted cheesecake at first. But it melted on the tongue with exceptional creaminess, giving way to a gentle, tangy sweetness.

It captured a spirit that August should reach for more often - a simple taste of home elevated to something special for everyone.