Sample, Sideways and Smith Street Nights
Jeff Hirsch | May 17, 2007
The other night, for the first time in three years, I went to Smith Street staple Sample, accompanied by my friend Genevieve. The last time I surfaced here was just after catching Alexander Payne’s deft film Sideways at the Cobble Hill Cinema with my friends Jess and Tom. With wine and its lure embedded in our brains, it having played a central role in the movie’s arc, we had no choice afterwards but to saunter into a wine bar, newfound knowledge in tow. It was at Sample that evening that we proceeded to embarrass wine connoisseurs everywhere by sticking our noses in our glasses and saying things like “Hmm, oaky.” or “A hint of raspberry, perhaps?” and “Nice tannins.” As usual, we had no idea what the hell we were talking about. As fate would have it, not much has changed from my end.
Today, as it was then, Sample remains classic cozy. While the narrow space, in total, is void of any standing gaps in its walkways, there is, beyond the reaches of the sleek wooden bar, a somewhat larger area that houses a number of tabletops. There is also a back patio, which due to the rain remained a figment the evening of our visit.
The bar has what seems to be a nice selection of wines. (Spoiler alert! I love wine but I don’t know squat about it except which orifice to pour it in.) It makes sense, of course, that Sample would have a wide assortment of wines to choose from, since it is, in fact, a bar. At least it used to be. It seems that somewhere in between Sideways and Paul Giamatti deciding to travel back in time to Colonial Williamsburg in order to channel John Adams in HBO’s upcoming miniseries about America’s founding father, Sample has moved from wine with some liquor and Tapas plates - to beer as well. Don’t get me wrong, I drink beer like JT pops starlets - frequently and without a conscious - but the sight of beer taps residing under the soft din lighting of this respected wine bar felt a little bit like installing a Dance Dance Revolution video game right next to a Ski Ball machine. Where is the romance?
Gen and I sat at the end of the bar, a spot not easily corralled since the bar itself consists of only 8-9 bar stools, many of them perpetually occupied. I flipped though the wine menu ignoring the cheese and olive plates. I was thirsty, by God. Considering that my wine comprehension can only be described as suspect, I asked the bartender, a lovely gal, about one particular that caught my eye, the Stadlmann Classic Pinot Noir, 2004, from Austria. Her response was succinct and without fanfare. It’s got a lot of age on it. I didn’t have a proper response to this wine-speak except to return her warm smile by saying, “Cool.” The entire conversation lasted approximately 1.8 seconds and probably set sophisticated wine talk back 6-8 months. (Here’s the part where I tell you that the reason that this precise wine jumped out at me was because I originally read it as being from Astoria, as in Queens, not Austria as in Arnold Schwarzenegger. This is also the part where I tell you that I am an idiot.)
Genevieve ordered a Pinot Grigio, 2004, from Italy and upon receiving our offerings we began to drink them down with all due haste. After the first sip the two of us had the following nonsensical exchange:
Gen: Yum, fruity.
Jeff: You think this really comes from Astoria?
Gen: And spicy.
While it seemed that neither of us was a threat to take home the top prize at this years City of Fiesole’s wine tasting championship, we sat back and enjoyed our liquid stress relievers nevertheless. The atmosphere, as mentioned, is warm and comfy. Lighting is everything to me and I go to great lengths to avoid bars or restaurants where high-octane overhead lights persist giving the venue the look and feel of a grocery store. Here the bar’s soft lighting arrangement, helped along by a number of votive candles spaced throughout, lifted the ambiance.
The wines were served in stemless glasses, a terrific addition to the crystalware community having eliminated the superfluous stem from the oversized drinking goblets that we have become accustomed to. The O shaped glasses fit in perfectly with the atmosphere at Sample: casual, simple, and effortless. (On a side note, a thousand propers to Maximilian Riedel, the young president of North American Riedel and acknowledged inventor of the stemless wine glass, by doing for wine glasses what Elaine did for muffin tops.)
The background music here shifted seamlessly from one throaty singer to the next: Tom Waits, Warren Zevon and Billie Holiday all made appearances. It was all swell and mellow and melodic and, of course, all too cliche, but so what; In a gently lit wine bar, where patrons huddled together deep in conversation, wound-up soloists with their clear message of heartbreak meshed together like Newman and Woodward.
Although we did not eat, for those interested, the menu consists of small plates of smoked salmon, Serrano ham, various forms of cheese and olive dishes, among other items of the same ilk generally seen at wine bars. The kitchen is small so don’t expect but to nibble, but from the looks (and smell) of it, I would suggest doing just that.
All told, between the two of us, we drank five glasses of wine, which totaled out at $31, a reasonable price I would conclude with the caveat being that the glasses were not heartily filled. (This being the downside of the stemless glass, Genevieve, ever the instigator, pointed out: “Less space.” She mused.) The bartender wasn’t giving any sommeliers any reason to look over their shoulder, but she was polite and sweet and accommodating. And while I was a little bummed out by the invasion of the beer taps, it will not keep me from returning when I need a Smith Street wine bar in a pinch.
In time, perhaps they will even add a Jamaica [Queens] wine to the menu.
Sample is located at 152 Smith Street (B/W Bergen & Wyckoff)
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