First, an explanation: We don’t rate sweets and pastries, which make up the bulk of La Boîte’s act. We decided that rating the two daily sandwiches would just be misleading and unhelpful. That said...

This crisp, repurposed 20-foot shipping container with an open, screened-in side and canvas-ceilinged patio is the food trailer for the Dwell Magazine times. You’ll dine al fresco on neat, uniform wooden stools that also double as tiny tables. From this green mound shared by the sandwich trailer Texas Cuban, you are far enough from the South Lamar traffic to hear the ohms of nearby Yoga Yoga.

The single-line atomic pretzel logo fits this ultra-modern-look-meets-classic-pâtisserie. Think flaky croissants with expertly rendered chocolate or almond fillings, and some of the best macarons we’ve had, stateside or no. The shells give away to a puff of pure flavor not masked by the corn-syrupy sameness of lesser macarons. Brioche is eggy, with the chocolate filling better than the somewhat dry and mute sausage. A greasy ham and cheese croissant is 100% guilty pleasure. More wholesome are two daily sandwiches (the bread’s a bit of a weak link), one vegetarian and one meat, made with local, responsibly raised ingredients from the likes of Full Quiver, Dai Due, and Pederson Farms. These tend to be balanced and very well conceived; as is La Boîte, really.