When most people think of a Parisian bistro, they imagine red gingham napkins, a wraparound bar of dark wood and zinc, and a blackboard menu showcasing hearty classics like steak-frites, beef bourguignon, and escargots. But these days, a true neighborhood bistro is far more likely to look like Vermillon: bare-bones walls, simple chairs, and a short-and sweet of just a handful of options marrying French technique and some international twists.
On the day of our visit, we had a choice of two hors d’oeuvres, five appetizers, two mains, a cheese plate, and two desserts. About half of the options were vegetarian, and most non-veg options featured fish rather than meat.
We started by sharing a plate of Olasagasti anchovies (12), which were served in a generous puddle of olive oil with a wedge of cultured French butter. I loved the addition of a few guindillas and some briny salicorne, and all were wonderfully paired with generous slices of hearty, seeded sourdough.
Next, we dug into a duo of asparagus served with stracciatella and pesto (11), which proved to be one of my favorite asparagus dishes of the year. The nutty spears were cooked until crisp tender, and their simplicity allowed the contrasts between the subtle white and more pronounced green asparagus to shine. The pesto itself was more intensely flavored with most, thanks to a reliance on hazelnuts in place of pine nuts and a lighter hand with the cheese than in most Italian versions. In truth, it ate a bit more like French pistou, which I really loved.
I was even more wowed by a bluefin tuna crudo (14) with rich romesco sauce and jalapeños – and not just because the dish was so vibrantly beautiful. The plating here allowed each bite to be an adventure, from the thick slices of tender tuna to the crunchy condiment marrying jalapeño and celery to the plentiful, herbaceous olive oil to the rich, slightly sweet red pepper sauce.
Stumbling on main dishes is, at this point, nearly a cliché, and the vegetarian main, while tasty, was far from as creative or precise as the starters. Miso-glazed eggplant (20) was served with chickpeas, roasted tomatoes, and a tahini-spiked yogurt sauce, and given its unapologetic simplicity, for this dish to truly impress, it would have had to propose technical perfection. Unfortunately, while the flavors were lovely, the eggplant was slightly undercooked, so it was more fine than fantastic.
The roast chicken leg with chili oil and seasonal vegetables (22) was more exciting, with crispy skin and a slight chili kick. It was tasty and copious, which is definitely what many diners are looking for from a main dish like this one.
That said, on a future visit, I’d be far more likely to skip the mains in favor of a few more starters, like the house-made Espelette-spiked pâté (10) or panisses with mayo (8) – which might mean I’d have room for a homey dessert like chocolate ganache with passion fruit (8.5) or a tender almond cake with rhubarb and raw cream (9) for dessert.
What makes Vermillon a bistro, to me, is less its flavor than its soul: simplicity, conviviality, and warmth abound, making it the kind of place one could easily imagine becoming a cantine, the sort of neighborhood joint you head to, not for the exquisiteness of the food, but for the vibes, the reliability, and the reasonable prices. And that’s just one of the things that makes it a laudable address.
Vermillon – 5 rue de Calais, 75009