Not much of it makes sense on paper. Pineapple and a hen egg on a mung bean pancake? Coffee-cured cobia with grapefruit purée and heirloom radishes? Dolsot bibimbap with barbecued tripe and Brussels sprouts, for the love of all that’s holy? This is what we used to call “fusion,” and if that word has deteriorated into a punch line, apparently John Clark and Beverly Kim, the husband-wife team behind Parachute, didn’t get the memo.

The dishes in their narrow Avondale storefront balance unlikely ingredients, and instead of making a mockery of multiple cultures, the chefs encourage diners to reevaluate everything. It’s an exciting—and noisy—education. Whether shoulder to shoulder at a high communal table or along the banquette under a shelf of vintage speakers, patrons take the plunge with brilliant curiosities such as creamy boudin noir with apples and raspberry vinegar. “We want you to try new things but still have a comfort level,” says Kim.

Parachute’s modest servers understand the place’s uniqueness, which makes them easy to trust. If anything holds back the operation, it’s the awkward desserts, such as chocolate mousse with parsnip sorbet and pomelo. But at a time when too many new restaurants quickly plummet to earth, Parachute has opened beautifully.

Order this: No. 2 cocktail ($11), bing bread ($4), black udon noodles with squid ($16)