Tucked away from the street, across from a large Korean market sprinkled with graffiti, is a small oasis in the familiar urban chaos of Los Angeles’ Koreatown. Reminiscent of an Italian deli crossed with a smart French café, Banchan a la Carte exudes a subdued sophisticated air with its long, glass enclosed deli counter, marble-topped tables and patio herb garden.

Inside, owner and chef Jayne Chang peeks over her employees’ shoulders and instructs them to cut the vegetables thinner or use less salt. She beams with pride as she walks around the restaurant she opened in June, describing in soft, accented English the colorful array of Korean banchan, Asian fusion dishes, and American-style rotisserie meat and sides displayed behind a glass case. Down to the neatly-tied bows on the boxes of assorted dried seaweed, she feels responsible for making sure every detail is perfect.

Chang, who also founded California Premier Culinary School in Los Angeles (which offers professional and amateur classes in Korean, Asian fusion, and European cuisine), wakes up early every morning to drive her two children to school, makes a stop at the culinary school, and then puts in a 12 to 14 hour day at the restaurant. She spent a year-and-a-half meticulously preparing the launch of Banchan a la Carte, located on Western Avenue, near Beverly Boulevard, and now the two-week-old restaurant sparkles.

Originally conceived as a catering business, Chang, who is allergic to MSG — a common food additive in Asian foods — saw a need for a healthy alternative to the preservative-laden Korean food found in markets and other restaurants. Because she wanted people to have more opportunities to eat healthy food, she eventually decided to add a dine-in menu and an extensive to-go deli.

“But,” says Chang, 43, “there are a lot of Korean people [who] said maybe this concept is not right for Koreatown.”

According to Chang, some Korean restaurants actually sprinkle MSG on their kalbi before serving it and most of the ready-made banchan and kimbap at Korean markets are filled with preservatives. In an area saturated with Korean restaurants and markets offering a plethora of choices to satisfy even the pickiest palate, Chang knew it would be difficult to convince consumers to pay more for healthy versions of such Korean staples.

“If I [said] I’m using natural beef and free-range chicken, [they ask] why I don’t use regular [meat] and have a cheaper price,” Chang says with a laugh.

She also says her version of Korean food is more delicious. As she points to her chefs rolling kimbap in the kitchen, she explains how danmuji, the round, yellow radish — a standard in kimbap — is artificially colored and preserved. Her brown danmuji, however, is hand-cut and julienned, then brined in soy sauce, giving it a fresh taste.

So far, the concept has gone over well with busy, career-oriented customers who are looking for quick and healthy meal options — most of whom tend to be 1.5- and second-generation KAs. For the curious but wary patrons, Chang makes sure to spend time walking them through her culinary point of view and its benefits.