Oct. 30 (Bloomberg) -- Neil Ferguson is famous for the wrong reason: He's the chef who got fired by Gordon Ramsay. Soon he'll be famous for the right reason: cooking at a place that's more exciting than Ramsay's -- a place where there's more offal, fewer truffles and nary a mousseline.

The chef is British. The city is New York. The venue is Allen & Delancey. The story goes like this:

Ferguson opens Ramsay's debut U.S. restaurant barely a year ago in midtown Manhattan. Ferguson and Ramsay get lackluster reviews. Ferguson gets the boot.

He could have swum back to London. He could have written a tell-all. He could have shaved his head. But he didn't. He's staying in America.

Ramsay is uptown, in the London hotel. Allen & Delancey is downtown, on the Lower East Side. Ramsay's place is bright and white. Ferguson's joint is dark and sexy, almost creepy.

Candles are everywhere. On bookshelves. On the bar. On tables. Melting. Burning wax. Blowing smoke. Shining on paintings of young people, old people and naked people. Waiters are clad in ninja black. They disappear into the dark as they walk away.

A witches' brew of animal parts peppers the menu: lamb's neck, duck liver, pig's knuckle, pork belly, veal pancreas and bone marrow -- caramelized marrow, crispy on the outside, rich and gelatinous within. Most chefs would have stopped there. Not Ferguson. He adds a dollop of caviar. The salty roe and unctuous marrow ooze and pop in your mouth.

Bacon Bacon Bacon

Ferguson doesn't care about redundancies. A hefty slab of mackerel gets tiny slabs of bacon and fluffy bacon gnocchi. (Don't forget the soft bacon rolls from the breadbasket.)

Ferguson doesn't do dainty.

Sweetbreads can be creamy. Here they're chewy and meaty inside a giant al dente raviolo. Even flaky fluke gets a dose of oomph, braised to a buttery softness and topped with parmesan.

Ramsay's food is very Frenchy, very fancy. Ferguson's is slightly American, a tad global and, on occasion, quite British.

How about beef and cabbage? A block of strip steak (cool and rare) stands in a pool of horseradish sauce (creamy and spicy) next to cabbage wrapped in onion (sweet and sour) and braised chuck wrapped in cabbage (intensely beefy). Whew.

And he's the pastry chef, too! Try the clementine dessert with orange-blossom sabayon.

Enjoy it all while listening to Michael Jackson's ``Thriller''; it was pumped through the restaurant on Friday. If Ramsay was built to earn Michelin stars, Allen & Delancey was built to please.

Our Wednesday-night dinner -- four courses each and a bottle of wine -- cost $184. Our Friday-night snack cost $90.

Allen & Delancey is at 115 Allen St., at Delancey Street. (Duh.) Information: +1-212-253-5400; http://www.allenanddelancey.net.

Gramercy Tavern 2.0

John Schaefer used to be chef de cuisine at Gramercy Tavern. It was wildly popular. Now Schaefer's got his own place. It's called Irving Mill. Will it ever rival Gramercy?

Quite possibly.

At least that's how the restaurant felt during its opening week. I heard Benjamin Bratt and John Leguizamo showed up at the inaugural party. Per Se chef Jonathan Benno was sitting at the bar on Tuesday. Steven Kamali, the young real-estate mogul, was there, too.

Who was there on Thursday? Everyone. The place was packed - -all 143 seats.

Irving is split, just like Gramercy. There's a tavern room of sorts up front, with sturdy wooden seats and tables. That's for walk-ins. There's a more formal dining room with plush booths in back, where reservations are recommended. The same menu is served in both rooms.

Straightforward, Refined

So how's the grub? Straightforward yet sophisticated -- just like Gramercy used to be, before vegetable purees and other delicate creations started to appear on the menu.

Cockles sop up a salty chorizo-studded broth. Grilled quail is rare and juicy; cheesy grits soak up the drippings. Braised black bass picks up hints of bitter from broccoli rabe, dashes of sour from preserved lemon.

Remember the spaetzle at the old Gramercy? The soft, crispy bites of dough are back, paired with a pork chop, and they're still addictive.

Try the rabbit stew. A bowl comes chock-full of sweet bunny meat; it falls of the bone and into a shallow sauce. Garlicky sausage and briny olives finish the affair.

Mascarpone drenches a slab of rosemary brioche in a crack version of French toast that tastes exactly like it sounds. I loved it. Others won't.

This is all the kind of stuff the old Gramercy would serve. And that's exactly why Irving Mill will succeed.

Our dinner for two -- four courses plus cocktails and wine -- cost $224.

Irving Mill is at 116 E. 16th St. Information: +1-212-254-1600; http://www.irvingmill.com.

(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: October 30, 2007 00:06 EDT