Linni Eats L.A.: Cru (Or How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the V-Neck)

Hip·ster / ˈhipstər/
• n. inf. a blanket term describing middle-to-upper class young people associated with alternative culture, particularly alternative music, independent film and a lifestyle revolving around thrift store shopping, eating organic, locally grown, vegetarian, and/or vegan food, drinking local beer, listening to public radio, and riding fixed-gear bicycles.

A wise woman once told me that it takes a hipster to know a hipster, and that was the thought plaguing me on a recent dining excursion in L.A.

The restaurant was in Silver Lake, hipster haven and domicile to all things scene. American Apparels line the streets, Schwinn Stingrays deliver their owners to another shift at the coffee house, and even the dollar stores sell Ray Ban knock-offs. I've spent a great deal of time hating on the particular genre of human that inhabits this neighborhood, but I never judge without the slight nagging suspicion that I could be one of them. I was having a hell of a hard time shaking this feeling when I found myself at a restaurant just off Sunset Blvd. A raw, vegan restaurant. Wearing a flannel.

The idea itself nearly ruined my appetite, but self-loathing tends to come hand in hand with the v-necks and zip-up hoodies. How else would the Silver Lake crowd manage to appear so aloof and judgmental if they weren't constantly judging themselves as well? But this is not a psych analysis—it is a restaurant review. And I'm just giving you a taste of the neuroses that haunted my expectations of Cru, arguably one of the most popular vegan eateries in Los Angeles.

The waiter who let us in was appropriately odd, but the experience itself did not force itself down your throat as some trendy establishments tend to. There was an unpretentious subtlety in everything, from the decor to the menu, and even the clientele. The couple next to my table were sporting some sweet southern accents and mullets, and asked our advice on how to order vegan food. On the other side, an older couple said they'd made the trek from Culver City, which had been a common tradition for years since the wife decided it was her favorite restaurant in Los Angeles, vegan or otherwise.

The menu keeps things simple as well—as simple as a gluten-free and mostly raw menu can be. We started off with the chickpea fritters, which came with a dilled sour cream made with cashews, coconut meat, dill, and garlic. The fritters were fried using coconut oil, a flavor that nearly overpowered everything else in this dish. The sour cream's dill cut the sweetness, but these fried-egg look-a-likes were almost too moist for dipping. This wasn't entirely unpleasant, but a touch less grease and a bit more pan time would elevate this dish to perfection.

Our entrees were a little closer to sublime. The mushroom quinoa risotto came with a mixed green salad and a fig pate made with apricots, dates, and something that tasted a little bit like pumpkin pie. The quinoa made this dish a little sweeter than your ordinary risotto, and the chefs opted to forego cheese, which left it a little lacking in creaminess. Fortunately, our waiter had overheard me expressing regret at not ordering a side of cashew cheese and brought some out with our dinner, which blended into the risotto in perfect harmony.

The cheese also tasted great on the pumpkinseed walnut chorizo wrap, a blend of bell peppers, zucchini, chorizo and onions wrapped with field greens, tomato, avocado and cilantro in a perfectly unblemished, thick collard wrap that held this baby together better than any tortilla could. The chorizo and nuts blended to create an earthy warm vibe in my mouth, but the collard made this downright refreshing for comfort food. It also came with a dipping sauce made with mustard seeds, coconut meat, and some vague hint of tamari, perfect for dipping either the wrap or the raw sweet potato chips that came along with it.


While the desserts are often the most astounding part of a raw or vegan menu, this "light" meal had us groaning in expanded-belly bliss before we even polished off the cashew cheese. It's a shame—the Cru chocolate truffle fudge cake has quite the reputation, as does the brownie a la mode with coconut meat cashew ice cream. Judging from the satisfied moans of the southern couple next to us, that brownie alone would be worth another trip to scenester-ville. Silver Lake isn't so bad after all, and if this is what it means to eat hipster, I think I could get on board with the movement. My dining partner and I did manage to order all cooked entrees at this nearly-100% raw restaurant, which could mean there's hope for us yet.

Then again, it could mean we're just so good at that odd-ball "alternative culture" thing that we don't even notice it anymore. And now my appetite's spoiled.

For more information on Cru, visit www.crusilverlake.com.

"Hipster" dictionary definition courtesy of Wikipedia