Bonsoir, La Dijonaise

La Dijonaise is a little cafe and boulangerie (aka bakery shop) tucked in the art district of Culver City, CA, an area that pulsates with "I could get discovered tonight" energy. Flanked with a sports bar with lines out the door and an Asian fusion restaurant, this cafe definitely doesn't sport itself as a mecca of haute cuisine, especially as their portion sizes were closer to Texan than Parisian. However, with a Parisian waiter names Nicolas, I was more than happy to be mesmerized by the way he sounded when he asked for my order and practice my shoddy French vocabulary.

As a friend and I sat and gabbed about careers, men and babies, we sipped still water and enjoyed the warm night air. Nicolas (my new bff) brought out crab cakes as a starter. Crab cakes I have usually enjoyed are usually dense and moist in consistency. These, which I devoured quickly, were surprisingly closer to cornbread in texture and lighter on the fish. Followed by salmon with dill sauce -- complete with a bed of long green beans and wild rice -- this little cafe won me over before we even hit dessert.



In between chomping and refusing to let my friend touch his food before I took pics, I couldn't help but grow thoughtful as recent events have brought some major life decisions to the forefront. Despite what many of my friends may think, I have a lot more cowardly lion in me than I would like to admit. Hence, I'm afraid, constantly battling between what's comfortable and familiar or deciding to leap into an unfamiliar (and potentially frightening situation). As I love being in control, rolling with change is not something that comes naturally to me.

Sometimes, the only adventures I like to take are edible. But anyone can change, right?





Dessert: Lest I get too deep, I hacked into the Napoleon and lemon tart with vigor, tossing aside my silent vow that I will only eat sweets on Saturday.


I let yesterday be Saturday.

See Also:

• Remembering Paris

Loving Fraîche Foods

Culver City restaurants are not necessarily known for their chic-ness -- cute and quaint, but rarely chic. However, one restaurant I kept driving past every week looked more like a place where the paparazzi could easily feel at home than a restaurant in my neck of the woods -- not to mention that the valet services blocked up traffic every night around five.

When a friend of mine suggested that we go to Fraîche, I was excited to go to the restaurant that is Culver City's new hot spot--so much so that I was ready to tell off the maitre d' if I couldn't get a table. Though it was still daylight outside, the inner section of the restaurant was ready for the night crowd; an intimate lighting complemented the terra cotta walls accented by paintings of the French countryside. Women were dressed as if they were going to the opera and not to dinner. Next to the open-style kitchen, at least 14 different cheeses held their place of honor. Eager diners watched each plate being brought to the tables and commented -- not so subtly, mind you -- on the beauty of other's dishes.

And the food definitely lived up to the hype.

Sitting outdoors on a gorgeous day in LA, I started with a lovely heirloom tomato salad with avocados, onions and tarragon aioli (pictured above). My appetizer was followed by some of the lightest pasta I have ever tasted -- a four cheese tortelli --ricotta, parmesan, robiola and pecorino -- topped by hazelnuts and cooked in brown butter.



Though I usually avoid carbs like the plague, I ate the entirety of this dish -- and I felt satiated and not stuffed. My beef-eating friend started with a colorful beef tartare and chose the monkfish for his entree, which had a savory, lemony flavor and tender texture.





For dessert, we had a simple cookie platter, but these weren't your mother's Toll House -- each cookie from chocolate chip to macaroon, was intricate, flavorful and well-designed -- the work of Miho Travi, a quality pastry chef.

It was one of those rare restaurant experiences where you are sure to put your next reservation in your Blackberry before leaving. And I did.