Chef John LaFemina’s restaurants embrace a certain simplicity, in both decor and cooking. Peasant, where he is a business partner with chef Frank DeCarlo, shows what’s possible with just a wood oven, bare walls, and floors. Windowless Apizz is almost undetectable from the street. His new venture, the Orchard, extends the aesthetic to fine effect.

As if to thumb his nose at less-committed chefs, Mr. LaFemina designed and built the new restaurant by hand. In the dining room, ultra-warm tones of orange, brown, and natural wood yield an effect that’s more elegant than homey. Attractively back-lit bottles of wine in neat ranks await the day that they may be poured; for now, the restaurant has no liquor license.That doesn’t seem to set the Orchard back much: Its tables are fully booked, and September Wines, which opened recently on the corner of Stanton and Ludlow, is doing a brisk business in BYO bottles.

Just like his space, Mr. LaFemina’s cooking here is less Italian-hearty, more clean and refined. The white plates are ungarnished, with plenty of empty space between items. The best dishes feature just a few ingredients, carefully balanced in pleasingly unexpected ways. A selection of flatbreads, built on crisp, blistered crusts, leads off the menu. Shreds of duck confit top one ($13) giving it a strong gamy flavor that’s amplified by tangy creme fraiche and frisee. On another ($12), salty steak tartare and strips of flaky parmigiano make an unctuous topping, the fine-chopped meat warmed by the hot bread and exuding a rich, mustardy scent. It’s no coincidence that the best of the bunch is the simplest: a topping of creamy melted robiola cheese studded with thick, smoky bacon pieces and bits of sweet dried cranberry ($12).

Separate from the menu’s flatbreads section are first and second courses. More than half of the first courses are billed as salads, but the “grilled filet mignon salad” ($15) turns out to be more of an Asian-style lettuce wrap. Slices of flavorful grilled beef come with crisp leaves of butter lettuce, ready to be slathered with chimichurri sauce and fiery mayo, bundled up in the leaves, and eaten with your fingers. Another salad ($12), made with Drunken Goat cheese and red-wine vinaigrette, sounds like the perfect antidote to a wine-free meal, but turns out to be one of the restaurant’s few duds. The lifeless assortment of romaine, cherry tomatoes, croutons, and hunks of white cheese (from which the distinctive winy rind has been removed), slathered in a creamy dressing, tastes too close to the Olive Garden for comfort.

Main courses, it turns out, are where Mr. LaFemina excels. They’re light and elemental but so exquisitely seasoned and prepared that even jaded eaters will pause to savor their details. A plate of agnolotti ($22) is attractive but unassuming until you bite into one. The nicely folded dumplings are filled with a breathtaking butternut squash puree, rich with brown butter and warm spices. Toasted hazelnuts and cubes of roasted squash are scattered among them, enriching the dish’s buoyant flavor. Though a halibut filet’s skin shows the savory, crisping effect of the grill, the real secret of the fish’s success is the poaching of it in olive oil, which elevates it to a pure-tasting, mouthwatering succulence ($24). If I meet many more fishes poached like this, I won’t want them done any other way.

Swimming right along to change my mind is an arctic char ($25) with Scandinavian panache.The trout-like fish wears gentle grill marks and a faintly sweet glaze that’s offset by dual surprising flavor complements: a heap of al dente purple potatoes in mustard sauce, and a row of thin, sweet pickle slices dabbed with creme fraiche.

Slices of lamb tenderloin ($26) are seasoned with lemon and Middle Eastern spice, rolled into tight cylinders, and grilled so their interiors are left rare: Unrolling one reveals a filet with a pink-to-brown gradation. Each one is intensely flavorful. The accompanying mound of tender orzo, bound with cream and dotted with crisp bits of pork, has the power to silence the nation’s raging macaroni-and-cheese debates.

Desserts (all $10) are more clever than masterful: a parade of miniature carrot cakes, a bar of dulce de leche ice cream, and a build-your-own tartlet kit that includes tiny flaky shells, custard, and sweetened berries.

Although the young restaurant falters from time to time, dishes like the char and the lamb (not to mention the carpentry) show that the chef’s new direction has great potential. He’s making some very good food, and as he travels further along the creative lines he is exploring here, it will only get more interesting.

The Orchard, 162 Orchard St., between Rivington and Delancey streets, 212-353-3570.