Nov. 13 (Bloomberg) -- Some restaurants fail to live up to their names. I thought Bun was one of them. It doesn't serve any buns. It serves noodles.

But bun is actually Vietnamese vermicelli. It's pronounced ``boon'' -- shame on me for skipping out on Southeast Asian linguistics in graduate school.

Lucky for us, the chef at Noodle -- that's what the place should be called -- lives up to his reputation. His name is Michael ``Bao'' Huynh and he's the man behind the Mekong fish at Mai House, Drew Nieporent's excellent ode to lemon grass.

Here at Bun, the fare is just as tasty, but the venue is much smaller, a bit cheaper and without a toilet in the men's room.

The neighborhood isn't as chic. Mai House lies on a swank stretch of Tribeca. The 50-seat Bun is on a quiet section of Grand Street. The block feels more like Chinatown than Soho. Han characters pepper nearby awnings. A massage parlor promises relief from jet lag and insomnia ($7 for 10 minutes).

Look inside. Red chairs appear harder than they should be. Booths feel tinier than they need to be. The long, thin room leads to a wall of pizza parlor-style celebrity photos in back. If Tiki Barber, Steven Van Zandt and Paris Hilton love Vietnamese, does that mean you will too?

Lots to Eat

Slippery noodles and beef pho should please those looking for winter warmth, but no matter how you define it, bun is not the highlight of Bun.

The menu is largely a collection of small plates that hover around $10 each. Some selections read like a dog's breakfast of animal parts. Tongue confit. Blood sausage. Duck hearts. What's shaking calves' liver, and why is it shaking?

Try the hearts. They're tender and meaty, with a hint of five spice and without a trace of game. The wild boar blood links might disappoint those looking for boudin noir-like sponginess; the tasty sausages had heft.

Sometimes Huynh views Vietnam through a modern lens. The crunch of a spring roll reveals a block of rare tuna within.

Crispy-skinned bass lies atop coconut parsnip puree and chanterelles -- the intoxicating melange of flavors and textures wouldn't taste any better if served at Le Bernardin.

Then Huynh falls back on lollipop traditions. Pork rib surrounds a stick of sugar cane. The edible stalk provides a measured dose of sweet to the savory meat. Short ribs are charred on the outside, bloody within and wrapped around a slice of lemon grass.

A gigantic dinner for three -- 12 dishes plus wine -- cost $169.

Bun is at 143 Grand St., near Lafayette. Information: +1-212-431-7999.

Offally Good Food

Olive Garden, Applebee's and every other casual dining restaurant in America should add a few items to their menus. Pork belly. Pig's tail. Beef stomach. Veal thymus. Cow tongue.

Trust me.

Chef David Chang used to make people wait an hour in the cold for his nose-to-tail menu. And for a steaming pile of Brussels sprouts.

The fresh green nuggets swim in a salty, spicy kimchi. For every bitter sprout there's a meaty, smoky chunk of bacon.

Order the treat at the new, larger Momofuku Noodle Bar in the East Village, where diners no longer have to wait outside, exposed to the elements. The erstwhile location, just a few doors down, was painfully cramped.

The menu has more or less remained the same; it's a collection of soups plus seasonal small plates that reflect Chang's unique cross-cultural take on Asian and American staples.

Organ McNuggets

Sweetbreads are fried. They look like KFC's popcorn chicken, but inside there's creamy veal thymus. Beef tongue nearly melts like foie gras; spicy mustard cuts the richness.

Expect infinite variations on pork. Fatty pig tails soak up the mild pungency of scallions. Bacon accompanies nearly everything from tripe to potatoes. Pork belly is a tall cylinder of swine. There's a core of silky fat surrounded by a layer of meaty pork blanketed by a crisply burnt exterior.

Chang is famous for his pork buns (real buns, not noodles, in case anyone is confused) but I've always preferred the chicken-stuffed version; his crispy bird thighs have a pronounced poultry tang that makes the mild flavor of pig taste like kiddie food.

I've had disastrously overcooked ramen at the old Momofuku; my noodles were perfectly al dente at the new location.

Chang's cooking could be improving. Smoked chicken wings -- soggy a few years back -- were sweet and crispy on Wednesday.

How about a palate cleanser? White hamachi turns blood red in a crimson pool of beet juice. Green apple cuts the sweet. For dessert, try homemade soft serve sweet cream. The faintly sour concoction rivals the city's best frozen treats.

Dinner for one cost $56. Dinner for two cost $135.

Momofuku is at 171 First Ave., near 11th Street. Information: +1-212-777-7773.

(Ryan Sutton is a writer for Bloomberg News. The opinions expressed are his own.)

To contact the writer of this story: Ryan Sutton in New York at rsutton1@bloomberg.net.

Last Updated: November 13, 2007 00:03 EST