Le Servan

32 rue Saint Maur, 75011 Paris

Le Servan is interesting, inspiring, enlightening. The food is French in its bones but shot through with sharp, electric Southeast Asian instincts that wake the palate like a slap from someone you secretly admire. You start with dumplings—always get the dumplings—thin-skinned parcels of pork or shellfish that explode with broth so clean and bright it ought to count as moral instruction. Then comes whatever seafood they’re obsessed with that week: razor clams or cockles in a broth so aromatic it drifts across the room like rumor. There’s acidity, heat, and a depth that could make bouillabaisse blush.

The mains are where Le Servan bares its teeth. A fish dish with the skin crisped to a lacquered snap and bathed in a sauce that tastes like Paris daydreaming of Manila. Or sweetbreads, burnished and proud, reclined on a bed of something vegetal and green that turns the whole plate into a conversation between elegance and appetite. If you like fusion that isn’t heavy-handed, this is the place.