There followed a long period of refinement and maturation, which is more than some guerrilla outfits can say. The wine list now takes more than 20 seconds to read, and is especially worth exploring for fans of gamay and sparkling wine. (Or both — there’s a sparkling gamay.) Under Matthew Rudofker, the executive chef from 2010 until May, Ssam Bar expanded beyond pork shoulder to other sizable cuts of meat: rib-eyes, briskets, whole ducks.

Over the years, like many of Mr. Chang’s restaurants, Ssam Bar was increasingly infiltrated by modern techniques, fermentation, cutting-edge plating styles and umami-building tricks. The kitchen worked at a very high level, but at times it felt slightly deracinated, as if it drew much of its inspiration from other islands in the Momofuku archipelago.

Carefully but confidently, Mr. Ng is moving away from that style and toward one of his own. He has gone back to the traditions of Asia, particularly street food and Singaporean cuisine. Like the char on that smoldering banana leaf, his techniques tend to be premodern, even though he has worked for nobody but Mr. Chang since moving to the United States in 2011, starting with an externship at Ssam Bar during culinary school and rising to chef de cuisine at Momofuku Ko.

Mr. Ng has been trying his hand at the fish-shaped cakes from Japan known as taiyaki. He has a terrific idea for what to do with them: stuff them with foie gras. In his hands they’re almost French, because he fills the molds with croissant dough rather than pancake batter and glazes the crust with honey and white port. Over the top he strews some candied puffed rice that would make a fine breakfast; the whole dish would make a fine breakfast, come to think of it, although you’d stand up afterward knowing your day had already peaked.

Sizzling eggs arrive not quite set in a cast-iron pan hot enough to finish cooking them at the table. The heat also softens a slice of pork terrine, which melts to coat the eggs. When I first tried this open-faced omelet, the eggs had been poured around a handful of chanterelles. Now they’ve been replaced by smoked bluefish.

To make one of the most original corn dishes I’ve seen in a long time, Mr. Ng cleaves the cobs lengthwise into quarters and fries them until they curl. They are dusted with spice. You pick one up with your fingers and swipe it through a black aioli of squid ink or a white streak of whipped ricotta, which will melt like butter. Then you eat the kernels from the cob as if you were gnawing the meat off a baby back rib.