OTT: Secret Wine Bar Transports to the Old World
THE DREAM
The allure of the Old World—the deep yet subtle flavors, the cellar smells, the ineffable ambiance—continually inspires archetypes of European eateries this side of the Atlantic. While some recreate with approximate authenticity, most facsimiles settle for kitsch décors of sentimental stereotypes—be they German lederhosen or murals of Tuscan countrysides. Nonetheless, imaginative transport to the Old World is best facilitated, not by French-country ornamentations, but by surrender to gastronomic bliss. There is nothing like a proper pairing of wine and cheese to carry the mind to far-off places.
THE SPACE
For this, there exists a local space, above the tumult of the everyday: a tucked away loft with an unmarked entrance, a heavy green door that opens to creaky stairs, an ascent that terminates atop a bakery, a space with an elevated view of the street below, a selection of seating, a bar, a wine list. Welcome to what is unofficially yet affectionately termed, “the secret wine bar.”
Five years ago it was a dusty storage space. Now it offers a refurbished ambiance of dark woods, vineyard inspired murals, wrought iron chandeliers and faux stone. Oenophiles and novices alike are welcomed by deep, leather seating facing a coat-of-arms embossed fireplace abutted by original brick walls. Critiques of kitsch fade as the bar displays the markedly broad, wine selection. You could order a cocktail, but why would you?
In reality, this unnamed wine loft is only as secret as you imagine it to be. The astounding selection of wines by-the-glass is only possible because patrons are plentiful enough, the opened bottles are properly preserved, and the wine buyer knows his business well. He buys what sells. And while no Spanish Priorat was offered (due to limited demand), one can take solace in the unique collection of wine, dissimilar to anything else found in the city. This selection stands alone.
THE WINES
From an exemplary Nebbiolo from Piedmont, Italy (where else?), to a French GSM (Grenache, Syrah, Mourvedre) from Languedoc, to a Spanish grand Rioja, this wine bar will take you on an Old World grand tour.
The Piedmont offering (unadulterated Nebbiolo grapes, as is common in the hilly, northwest area of Italy; $9) smelled of dried fruit and earthy mushrooms—transporting one to ancient, oak cask filled cellars. The initially tight tannins gracefully opened into something softer as the bouquet transformed into a light, lively and sweet scent. Truly, a multifaceted wine.
The grand Rioja ($9) startled with an aroma that hinted of bleu cheese (and the cheese hadn’t yet arrived). Smooth and lush on the palate, the Spanish wine boasted flavors of dried cherries, and a lingering spice.
The GSM ($8) tantalized with a nose of bright and lively spring flowers, yet with depth that carried through to a big mouth feel, that, sadly, soon tapered off, much like a Frenchman pounding his espresso at the bar, then turning on his heels for the door.
Yet we did not head for the door before the meat and cheese plates appeared. Old World wines are created to accompany food; fail to do so and the wines will suffer.
THE FOOD
Samplings of charcuterie are available (as are a variety of alternatives, such as prosciutto with melon, fondue and escargot). While based upon seasonality the presented selection of cheeses (six varieties; $16) included Port Salut from Brittany in the Loire Valley, Brie “style” triple cream, Gruyère de Comté, Delice de Bourgogne, and the raw sheep’s milk, Idiazábal.
The meat selection (four varieties; $16) displayed delicately thin, Prosciutto di Parma, showing just a hint of gaminess; Spanish jamón serrano, sliced so sheer that you could practically see your dining partner through it (indulge in a pairing with the raw sheep’s milk cheese); and Bresaola, mild and accessible slices of Italian air-cured beef.
Exemplary was the musty Valdeon of Spain. Made from a milk-blend from cows and goats of Castile and León, this unusual, cave-aged bleu surprises with a sweet flavor that then ambushes with a peppery finish of spice. Wildly lovely. Enjoy it with the Genoa salami and a bold red.
THE LOCATION
Because the feeling of exclusivity is cherished—it’s the “secret” in “secret wine bar” that thrills—we are reticent to share the address of what feels like a clandestine hideaway. But if you promise to keep a secret, discover the unmarked door immediately to the left of 2417 W Colorado Ave. Hours: Thurs-Sat: 6pm-2am.
For additional food-centric reviews and tips, or to make a comment, email On The Table at OnTheTableReviews@gmail.com, or visit facebook.com/onthetablereviews.
The allure of the Old World—the deep yet subtle flavors, the cellar smells, the ineffable ambiance—continually inspires archetypes of European eateries this side of the Atlantic. While some recreate with approximate authenticity, most facsimiles settle for kitsch décors of sentimental stereotypes—be they German lederhosen or murals of Tuscan countrysides. Nonetheless, imaginative transport to the Old World is best facilitated, not by French-country ornamentations, but by surrender to gastronomic bliss. There is nothing like a proper pairing of wine and cheese to carry the mind to far-off places.
THE SPACE
For this, there exists a local space, above the tumult of the everyday: a tucked away loft with an unmarked entrance, a heavy green door that opens to creaky stairs, an ascent that terminates atop a bakery, a space with an elevated view of the street below, a selection of seating, a bar, a wine list. Welcome to what is unofficially yet affectionately termed, “the secret wine bar.”
Five years ago it was a dusty storage space. Now it offers a refurbished ambiance of dark woods, vineyard inspired murals, wrought iron chandeliers and faux stone. Oenophiles and novices alike are welcomed by deep, leather seating facing a coat-of-arms embossed fireplace abutted by original brick walls. Critiques of kitsch fade as the bar displays the markedly broad, wine selection. You could order a cocktail, but why would you?
In reality, this unnamed wine loft is only as secret as you imagine it to be. The astounding selection of wines by-the-glass is only possible because patrons are plentiful enough, the opened bottles are properly preserved, and the wine buyer knows his business well. He buys what sells. And while no Spanish Priorat was offered (due to limited demand), one can take solace in the unique collection of wine, dissimilar to anything else found in the city. This selection stands alone.
THE WINES
From an exemplary Nebbiolo from Piedmont, Italy (where else?), to a French GSM (Grenache, Syrah, Mourvedre) from Languedoc, to a Spanish grand Rioja, this wine bar will take you on an Old World grand tour.
The Piedmont offering (unadulterated Nebbiolo grapes, as is common in the hilly, northwest area of Italy; $9) smelled of dried fruit and earthy mushrooms—transporting one to ancient, oak cask filled cellars. The initially tight tannins gracefully opened into something softer as the bouquet transformed into a light, lively and sweet scent. Truly, a multifaceted wine.
The grand Rioja ($9) startled with an aroma that hinted of bleu cheese (and the cheese hadn’t yet arrived). Smooth and lush on the palate, the Spanish wine boasted flavors of dried cherries, and a lingering spice.
The GSM ($8) tantalized with a nose of bright and lively spring flowers, yet with depth that carried through to a big mouth feel, that, sadly, soon tapered off, much like a Frenchman pounding his espresso at the bar, then turning on his heels for the door.
Yet we did not head for the door before the meat and cheese plates appeared. Old World wines are created to accompany food; fail to do so and the wines will suffer.
THE FOOD
Samplings of charcuterie are available (as are a variety of alternatives, such as prosciutto with melon, fondue and escargot). While based upon seasonality the presented selection of cheeses (six varieties; $16) included Port Salut from Brittany in the Loire Valley, Brie “style” triple cream, Gruyère de Comté, Delice de Bourgogne, and the raw sheep’s milk, Idiazábal.
The meat selection (four varieties; $16) displayed delicately thin, Prosciutto di Parma, showing just a hint of gaminess; Spanish jamón serrano, sliced so sheer that you could practically see your dining partner through it (indulge in a pairing with the raw sheep’s milk cheese); and Bresaola, mild and accessible slices of Italian air-cured beef.
Exemplary was the musty Valdeon of Spain. Made from a milk-blend from cows and goats of Castile and León, this unusual, cave-aged bleu surprises with a sweet flavor that then ambushes with a peppery finish of spice. Wildly lovely. Enjoy it with the Genoa salami and a bold red.
THE LOCATION
Because the feeling of exclusivity is cherished—it’s the “secret” in “secret wine bar” that thrills—we are reticent to share the address of what feels like a clandestine hideaway. But if you promise to keep a secret, discover the unmarked door immediately to the left of 2417 W Colorado Ave. Hours: Thurs-Sat: 6pm-2am.
For additional food-centric reviews and tips, or to make a comment, email On The Table at OnTheTableReviews@gmail.com, or visit facebook.com/onthetablereviews.
Comments
Post a Comment