Yesterday I had the opportunity to try out a new restaurant in Agoura Hills called Urbane Cafe. By “opportunity” I mean I was in the area and my roommate treated me to a sammich. I’m still waiting for my invitations to delicious restaurants, free of charge *hint hint*.
ANYWAY, Urbane Cafe prides themselves on using fresh ingredients, freshly baked bread, and homemade sauces and dressings.
The art out front isn’t too shabby either!
The setting and service inside is very Baja Fresh-style. You order at the counter and then pick up the food when your pages goes off. My favorite part about this? NO TIPPING!
It’s always nice to save money when you’re a starving writer/actor.
They have a good-sized menu. Plenty of choices, but not too overwhelming.
I asked for the cashier’s recommendation and ordered the So-Cal Sandwich – grilled chicken, avocado, pepper jack cheese, tomatillo salsa, green leaf lettuce and chipotle mayo.
It wound up being solely a chipotle mayo sammich – not that I was complaining! I love me some fatty foods, I just prefer to taste other ingredients at the same time.
I used about five billion napkins while consuming the mayo sammich.
I love exposed brick! If I ever am forced to move into LA, I’ll only concede if my house or apartment has an exposed brick wall.
Next door to the restaurant is The Olive Vineyard – an olive oil and balsamic vinegar TASTING ROOM aka Heaven!
So many wonderful tanks! Almost as good as beer barrels!
My roommate and I tasted tons of different balsamic vinegars – honey and ginger, tahitian vanilla, 18-year aged, dark chocolate, jalapeno and our personal favorite which we bought: cinnamon and pear!
Their olive oils are all organic (they’re still waiting for their certification on a few), and include flavors like Tuscan herb, wild mushroom and sage, Persian lime and butter – no flavors added (so they say – it’s hard to believe that olive oil can naturally taste and smell EXACTLY like butter)!
It was a good day.
? That movie takes place in a small town called Preston, Idaho, where the main street is residential, kids aspire to work at the local chicken farm or motel, and duplexes reign supreme. I’ve found the “Preston of the West”. It’s called Indio.
