Dinette is a petite cafe from Cafe Stella's Gareth Kanter, where you order from a counter after perusing cake stands filled with quiches and tarts and cookies, all separated by a sleek glass window. There is no indoor seating area, only scattered chairs and tables in a small alcove bound by plants and the sidewalk lining Sunset Boulevard. A potato, leek and bacon tart ($5) is crisp and savory (the crust is excellent), an ideal morning snack with a cup of coffee. There is a decent avocado toast ($7), because this is LA, and what is a cafe without avocado toast? Farro salad ($6), with its sweet clusters of raisins and almonds is tossed in a complex vinaigrette, and pastries upon pastries are drooled over by residents of a quickly changing and evolving neighborhood.
1606 W Sunset Blvd
|Opening hours:||Daily 8am-3pm|
|Do you own this business?|
Average User Rating
3.8 / 5
- 5 star:1
- 4 star:2
- 3 star:2
- 2 star:0
- 1 star:0
Dinette is my favorite brunch spot because of its delicious breakfast sandwiches and pastries. Situated right on Sunset Boulevard, this is the perfect place to go people watching. They serve Intelligentsia coffee and a variety of teas. The seating situation isn't the best, with its metal tables and chairs outside a 99 cent store, but the food makes up for it.
I'm still not sure what to make of this space. I've been back multiple times for breakfast and pastry items, and while some things are consistently great (the potato and leek tart), others have been hit or miss. And I agree with Kate - the price of the food feels at odds with the neighborhood, though I think it would even feel pricey in a more affluent area. Still, if you're nearby and in need of a small, gourmet bite, this place works well.
This little spot wedged into the main drag of Echo Park serves up fresh sweet and savory pastries, small salads and sandwiches. It's stylish (as are the folks who eat there) and convenient, but I just can't get over a few factors. You order at a window that's reminiscent of a bulletproof glass wall at a post office or liquor store. And it's hard to swallow buying $8 toast standing right next to a 99 Cent store and a bus stop serving (some) folks who don't have eight cents to spare. This may just be an unfortunate location issue, but the space seems cordoned off from the rest of the neighborhood with metal doors and big, barrier-marking planters—as opposed to integrating into the existing community, it almost feels like it's intruding.