Kabawa, from David Chang’s Momofuku group, is insanely delicious

Momofuku Ko is history  — but long live Kabawa.

Neither the flavors nor pretensions of  David Chang’s fabled, impossible-to-get-into restaurant lives on at its successor.

Kabawa is the first new venue from his Momofuku empire since Chang began closing most of his sit-down places two years ago and turned his attention to branding and consumer products.

But the place where Momofuku Ko served its last uni with chickpea hozon recalls Ko’s restless, risk-taking spirit, even though its menu is Caribbean, not Asian, and served in a mere three courses compared with Ko’s 10.

The room, on weirdly named Extra Place in the East Village, remains hard-edged despite some brighter colors and mosaics, yet oddly cozy thanks to chef Paul Carmichael’s infectious good cheer. The handful of tables have an out-of-the-action feel, but it’s a different story at the three-sided counter where strangers mingle easily and Carmichael presides over the steamy, aromatic open kitchen with an omnipresent smile and infectious good humor.

Carmichael chuckled when I told him my wife and honeymooned decades ago in Barbados, his birthplace, when every meal  featured variations on flying fish that all tasted alike.  

“Flying fish,” he said with a twinkle. “We have real Bajan food festivals now.”

The menu (prix-fixe only and costing $145, but with supplements that can raise the price considerably) reflects the traditional Bajan table — without flying fish —  as well as the tastes of Jamaica, Trinidad, Martinique, Puerto Rico and other Caribbean locales.

Almost everything I tasted hit the spot — “tropical” without a tacky onslaught of pineapple and coconut. Carmichael, who once worked at Chang’s still-missed Ma Peche, isn’t trying for a “pan-Caribbean” menu; rather, it’s a personalized take on certain dishes he loves.

He avoids cliches: There’s nary a jerk in the house except for hearty “jerk” duck sausage that’s not the real thing, but merely “inspired” by jerk seasonings.

My meals began with two kinds of irresistible bread: Trinidad-inspired flaky roti that was fun to tear apart with fingers, and firm, Jamaican cassava cubes. Dips of pepper jelly, plantain ginger chutney, curried chickpeas and mango chutney foreshadow the flavor adventures to come.

Black sea bass — served beside a small pool of woodsy, mild Trinidadian-style curry — looked minimalist on the plate but packed maximum flavor punch. Breadfruit tostones, as toothsome as pizza-style flatbread but a lot tastier, were topped with rings of impossibly tender octopus and sparked with “dog” sauce, a piquant condiment made with parsley, lime and habanero from the French Caribbean.

Luscious raw pepper shrimp from Montauk waters, dusted with tangy hibiscus and tingly fermented Scotch bonnet peppers hit all the notes perfectly. That wonderful dish has been replaced by raw, mineral-rich ocean scallops that were nearly as good.

Plantain-scrambled egg and salt cod were so delicious, I suggest you ask, as I did, to hold the caviar that would add $50 to the bill. It was enough to just enjoy the creamiest scramble and sweetest salt cod I’ve ever had.

The only disappointment was chuletas can can ($75 extra but enough to feed three) — a monumental combo of pork rib, belly and loin, seasoned with pungent recaito, a traditional Puerto Rican sofrito of pepper and cilantro.

Although awesome to behold, the meat emerged too dry and with little textural differentiation among the cuts.

Kabawa has a reasonably priced wine list and killer, top-tier rums. I loved a Cuban-inspired daiquiri made with shaved ice.

Next-door Bar Kabawa’s a la carte “small bites” and patties of goat, shrimp and crab, variously baked and fried, are cheap introductions to Carmichael’s talent. But the place to enjoy it to the full is the main restaurant — and the counter is where it can be experienced at its spectacular best.