Dish deli - A variety of treats from its display case.

For a moment there it looked like we had the makings of a killer rivalry. In the ring were two feisty female chefs, each preparing to hang a shingle outside her shiny new café. But wait! Those shingles, it turned out, each bore the very same name. Who, observers wondered, would back down first and relinquish the moniker?

"I've had this name registered with the state for a long time," asserted Heather Campbell, owner of Dish Global Deli.

But too bad for Campbell: Donna Chriszt beat her to the starting gate, opening her Dish Deli weeks before Campbell did.

In the end, the chefs abandoned the name and blame game, focusing instead on the task at hand. "I have faith that people will be able to distinguish between two different businesses," sniffed Campbell, downplaying the brouhaha.

It's a cute name, Dish, you have to admit. And if these two delis had not opened a mile and a month apart, there certainly wouldn't be this level of confusion. But imbroglio aside, diners should acquaint themselves with both Dishes because each has its own charms.

There are similarities, aside from the names. Both are run by talented chefs with extensive resumes: Chriszt ran a handful of brilliant but short-lived restaurants while Campbell toiled in the kitchens of others, most notably the Fulton Bar and Grill. Both are set in bright, fun and funky storefronts and boast pantries rife with fresh, seasonal and health-conscious foodstuffs. Both seek gastronomic inspiration from points near and far. And neither offers traditional table service, instead requiring patrons to order at the counter, pay up front and wait, seated or standing.

But there are notable differences, too. Dish Global, Campbell's place in Ohio City, has nearly triple the seating, making it much more amenable to dining in. Chriszt's Tremont-based Dish Deli, in contrast, pretty much compels diners to eat off-premises, owing to its paucity of seats.

What Dish Deli lacks in seating it makes up for in variety of product. A display case beams with brightly colored salads, creative appetizers and heat-and-eat entrées. There are soups, sandwiches, pizzas and daily specials. There are Asian-inspired noodle bowls, Middle East-inspired tabouleh and Latin-inspired tamale pies. Options run the gamut from a summery Greek salad ($5) to a trio of delicious pot stickers ($3) in sesame sauce.

Studded with black beans, chickpeas and zucchini, the zesty vegetarian chili ($3.50) is as good as any beef-bearing bowl. Homemade dough envelopes a twirl of prosciutto, salami and cheese in the baked stromboli ($4.50). Sandwiches include the Dish club ($6.50), a savory stack of turkey, black forest ham, applewood-smoked bacon and roasted-tomato aioli, and a roasted veggie wrap ($5) with sun-dried tomato tapenade, goat cheese and sprouts.

The selection is leaner at Dish Global. A large chalkboard above the counter ticks off just one soup, six salads and nine sandwiches. Guests can flesh out their meal with one or more vegetable- or grain-based sides from a list of seven. Some sides work just as well as a pre-meal starter, especially the superb roasted garlic hummus ($2.75), which is thick, fluffy and paired with warm pita.

Evoking memories of a hoisin-laced mu shu pancake, the mu shu salad ($8) tops fresh greens with a warm mix of mushrooms and shredded napa cabbage in a sweet soy dressing. Perfectly cooked marinated flank steak is at the heart of the Argentinean panini ($9.50), served hot and oozing with sharp white cheddar. Fans of things both sweet and savory will dig the Guilty Pleasure ($8.50), a panini that deftly balances the saltiness of bacon, the richness of melted brie and the sweetness of tomato-ginger jam.

Neither Dish is without cracks. I like that Dish Deli uses a stone-lined toaster oven rather than a microwave to reheat bread-based items like pizza and stromboli. But on two separate visits, items were pulled well before they'd had a chance to heat up and served with chilly cores. Also, with so many options - many of them not bearing prices - ordering can be a tad perplexing.

At Dish Global, the kitchen delivered a side of sweet and spicy soba noodles ($2.75) that was so soft and mushy, it made its way back virtually untouched. Neither the server nor chef bothered to inquire why. Listed as a sandwich, the curry chicken salad ($8), while really, really good, is not a sandwich at all, but rather a scoop served with pita. But my biggest complaint with Dish Global is the limited selection. Though thoughtfully conceived and skillfully executed, nobody cares to eat sandwiches at every meal.