L’Orillon takes no reservations, and when I arrived on a Tuesday evening just before 7:30pm, it was already packed to the brim. But in a move that would come to define L’Orillon’s exquisite combo of chill vibes and stalwart professionalism, the barman showed me a stool at the old-school zinc bar and assured me the next two-top was mine.
Free to peruse the offerings at my leisure, I marveled over the intriguing flavor combos — not to mention the incredible value. Small bar snacks include egg-mayo (3) or leek-vinaigrette (4), while larger small plates brought a host of international flavors, from classic French terrine with pickled mustard seeds (8) to kimchi with cream cheese and puffed buckwheat (8). (Don’t worry, friends; I abstained from the latter.)
Once at our wooden table, my friend and I ultimately narrowed things down to three savory plates, the first of which featured a slice of watermelon sitting in a gorgeous pool of buttermilk and topped with anchovies, fresh mint, and pickled mustard seeds (9). The combo of sweetness, acidity, and a touch of lactic richness was perfect, and I’m not embarrassed to say I spooned that sauce right out of the bowl like soup. I’m definitely going to be enjoying anchovies with my watermelon salad this summer.
Next up, we dug into a very seasonal dish of wild and white asparagus topped with cherries and big blobs of creamy gorgonzola cheese (10). The threads of promised radicchio were a bit thin on the ground, as was a touch of acidity, but ultimately I loved this super creative approach to one of my favorite spring ingredients, and it’s another one I’m keen to recreate at home.
The third dish, however, was the one to blow the others out of the water. Slow-cooked lamb (14) was shredded into a luscious pile and served alongside a mound of creamy labneh filled with a pool of what I believe was pomegranate molasses. An herby salsa verde provided the exact right dose of freshness, and a slow-cooked onion on the side echoed the sweetness of the pomegranate. Bread was definitely needed to soak up the mix of lamb juices, labneh, and olive oil – and, in breaking with the norm of inexpensive small plates spots like this, which I’ve noticed have developed an unfortunate tendency to be stingy with pain, was provided plentifully by our servers, just one of the small touches I loved at this vibrant neighborhood spot.
We paired our plates with glasses of white wine from Cante Renard in the Gard (6), a recommendation from the barman when I expressed my love of Alsatian whites. The southern French wine was full of sunshine and complexity, providing just the right aromatic richness to complement each dish.
For dessert, we went for yet another seasonal selection: fromage blanc topped with strawberries sautéed in balsamic reduction and topped with crumbled sablé breton biscuits (6). While the promised tarragon was missing, this dessert was exactly how I like them: not too sweet and not too big. The fromage blanc was lactic and luscious and unsweetened; the strawberries were warm and ripe and sticky with balsamic. I might have liked a touch more sugar – and this is me talking! – but it was ultimately a success.
The 11th has become awash with small plates spots like this one, from old stalwarts Clown Bar and Au Passage to newcomers like le Goncourt. But for my money, while the concept at l’Orillon is far from unique, the execution is on-point – and a step above the rest.
L’Orillon – 35, rue de l’Orillon, 75011