Dinner Thursday night at Figaro, an organic brasserie in a neighborhood labeled "Hollywood" on its business card, but labeled "Los Feliz" by most others (1802 N. Vermont Ave., 2.7 miles from my new home).
Pricey but tasty. Dark inside. No room to wriggle between tables. Cheese du jour was soft and good. Great, hot bread. Pommes frites a tad undercooked. Making them interesting to share between two people, plates seem to be served in odd numbers: five slices of ostrich, five little meringue bitelets.
Staff represented most French immigrant stereotypes: one snooty, one meek, one uber-professional. Best part: commitment to organic dining.