Tom Doorleyreviews Wine Upstairs, D6
The notion of the wine bar took quite a while to catch on among the English-speaking peoples of the world. In mainland Europe it was always accepted that people would, from time to time, want to share a few glasses of wine and a plate or two of grub. The Spanish, of course, have brought the concept of tapas to an art form.
But where English is spoken, bars are essentially for beer. And peanuts. And, if you're lucky, crisps. If you're unlucky, there may be a chance of a toasted sandwich presented in a cellophane bag.
We are so sophisticated now that you will be able to order wine, too, usually in the handy mini-bottle of 187ml or 250ml. The remarkable thing about mini-bottles is that, to qualify for this presentation, the wine must be, at best, very, very dull. Which is, presumably, why so many producers play safe and supply the dullest of fare in mini-bottles. Show me a mini-bottle containing interesting wine (no, please, not another Chilean Cabernet or Pays d'Oc Merlot) and I'll show you a defective palate, incipient lunacy or both.
Actually, there is something about the phrase "wine bar" that strikes fear into the manly breast. It sounds like the sort of place where Wags go to drink Champagne after shopping in Manchester.
And so it's a relief that the latest manifestation of, er, a place where you can go to drink many kinds of wine is not actually called a wine bar. It's called Wine Upstairs, a case of branding that does exactly what it says on the tin.
On a bitterly cold evening I skirted the little old ladies who were engaging in bare-knuckle boxing to get a table at TriBeCa (I may have got that bit wrong, but tables were at a premium) and headed upstairs to an oasis of calm involving plentiful tables, a bar and two entire walls of wine. A quick glance reassured me that someone had thought this through rather than calling up one of the big wine distributors. The first bottle I saw was the Saint-Aubin 1er Cru En Remilly from Domaine Bernard Moreau, the second was the Txomin Etxaniz from the Basque Country and the third . . . Okay, this could get a bit tedious for the non-anorak.
The point is that this wine bar has a smashing selection. So good and so eclectic is it that considerable restraint must be exercised. And, of course, food should be consumed, too. This is one of the many things that separate the Txomin Etxaniz drinker from the hooverer-upper of Heino.
There are two specials each evening - one meat, one fish - and there are several variations on the cheese-and-charcuterie theme. The bread is good, and there are a few desserts and decent coffee. All in all, this is a very pleasant port of call.
We shared a €14.50 platter of Fingal Ferguson's charcuterie, from Gubbeen Smokehouse in west Cork. This was a generous serving of chorizo, salami and saucisson presented with walnuts, cornichons and a big jalapeno pepper. And then, because we had stumbled upon the rich and sinewy Domaine d'Aupilhac Cuvée MS (€44) from the Côteaux du Languedoc, we ordered striploin steaks with garlic butter, caramelised onions and chips - a good plan when faced with a big red wine with tannins that need a little softening.
The garlic butter and chips were perfectly decent, but the steak, despite good flavour, was a little too chewy, and one of the two was only partly consumed (and taken off the bill).
With marinated olives (€4), a large bottle of Vittel mineral water, a single espresso, a double espresso and our reasonably expensive bottle of wine, the bill came to €92.40. Wine Upstairs may not be Ely (the menu and the wine list are compact by comparison) but it's a very pleasant place to share a bottle of something good and have a nibble.
• Wine Upstairs, TriBeCa, 65 Ranelagh, Dublin 6, 01-4974174
Wine choice
There isn't an indifferent bottle in the whole range. Good choices by the glass include zippy Picpoul de Pinet (€6.50) and Domaine Martin's pleasantly feral Côtes du Rhône (€5.50). Mourat Rosé, from the Loire, is pure joy at €6.50 (€23/bt). Barbadillo sherries weigh in at €5 for a generous copita. Wines that particularly excite me include Jean-Luc Colombo's round but intense La Prieure Saint-Joseph 2001 (€44), anything from Domaine d'Aupilhac (€36-€44), Château Court-les-Mut's oaky white Bergerac (€29), fragrant Domaine François Charles Volnay Clos de la Cave (€48), fantastic value Doudeau-Leger Sancerre (€30), the ultra-cool Grüner Veltliner Smaragd Thal Wachau (€27) and - the best value of all - from Portugal, the soft, nicely oaked Sá de Baixo (€22).