I have been waiting FOREVER for this. My adorable vegetarian brother (25 and single, ladies) has worked at Bar Agricole for about six months, and since he started he’s encouraged me to come over and have a meal. Four years older in body and four decades older in spirit, I always crankily declined, until last weekend, when I found myself unable to resist the siren song of clear skies, 70 degrees, and Sunday brunch.
Colin made a reservation for us (three omnivores and me), and noted that one of the party was vegan. When we arrived, he made me an espresso—they didn’t have any nondairy milk, which was surprising!—and later sent us out mimosas. I had already ordered a daquiri, so by the time this gorgeous plate arrived I was wide awake and tipsy.
Our server consulted with the chef about what to feed me, as nothing on Bar Agricole’s lovely menu was vegan (except most of the drinks, hooray). This is what he made: Giant beans, silky spinach, perfectly braised (I think) radishes, warm avocado, delicate leeks. You guys, I detest leeks, and I thoroughly enjoyed this meal. Every bite! It was salty and hearty and perfectly cooked, holy moly. I’ve never eaten a better radish.
Bar Agricole, you guys! Nothing’s explicitly vegan, but they will totally accommodate you, given warning—like any good restaurant—plus their drinks are scrumptious, and the coffee is local and excellent. I highly recommend it.