By Katherine Faw Morris

White has a bad rap. It’s the color of bad dancing, yodeling, printer paper. Yet there does exist a select list of enjoyable colorlessness: Snow. Polar bears. Wifebeaters. You get the drift. Add to this bunch Bar Blanc, a new French of bleached walls and banquettes in the the W.Vil. As my latest unguilty pleasure, Gossip Girl, has taught me, living off interest just gives you more time to party.

XOXO. Bring on the baby pig head terrine.

Billed as an upscale neighborhood joint, Bar Blanc is really more like hiking in stilettos, hauling a stat bag. Bread service. White stone bar. A trio of Bouley-ians behind the scenes. Relaxed it isn’t. But my new thing is people who blow dry and pay their alt min taxes, so I was totally with it. Plus Chef Cesar Ramirez’s fare, though refined to the point of tofu puree territory, is truly palate pleasurable.

Starters like supa-fresh big eye tuna sashimi and a meaty pan-seared jumbo scallop shined. The sashimi is slathered in black onion miso and truffle dressing, crowned with crunchy leeks. The scallop is basted in orange zest and served atop a green swirl. An entrée of orecchiette tossed with hunks of braised rabbit in a mustard emulsion and a seaweed-like tangle of sautéed spinach had me in total rejection of my new year’s resolution number 5—Thou shalt not eat bunnies. New justification: Rabbits are vicious animals, and they taste so good with ear pasta. Another main, ginger-steamed dourade with vegetable mélange and aforementioned tofu puree, treaded on subtler ground. Decorated with intricate snowflake-like ginger cutouts, the white fish was buttermilk creamy. In classic gold-digger fashion, it was easily able to hold its own against more pungent accompaniments, despite its delicacy.

Another good thing about white: It makes stuff look bigger. Quartered in a converted carriage house, Bar Blanc is working this angle to the fullest, from the deceptive spatial depth to the portion size. Despite the American Psycho-era plating—drizzles and smears and white space—I was almost left without room for Pastry Chef Daniel Keehner’s tres bon desserts. But I’m not one to resist salty caramel ice cream, served with bittersweet chocolate cake. Or a Meyer lemon soufflé accompanied by goat cheese ice cream and a bright purple huckleberry marmalade. A refreshing riot of color amid the blanc-ness. Because a world without good dancing is no world at all.

QUICK BITES Cuisine: French Vibe: Expat UESers living on interest in their downtown annex—the West Village. Occasion: Spent a whole day hanging the new Hirst. Hungry. Damage: $170+ for a three-course meal for two with one drink each, including tax and tip. Reservations: Recommended Not to Be Missed: Orecchiette with Braised Rabbit ($24)

142 West 10th St., barblanc.com, 212-255-2330, West Village