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Ron Ciavolino's favorite wine bars

Wine guru Ron Ciavolino has a bone to pick with trendy Soho enotecas. And Frank Bruni.

By Alex Van Buren | Special to Metromix

4:38 PM EST, March 4, 2008

Love 'em or hate 'em, a new crop of wine bars -- Xai Xai, Bar Boulud, Solex -- has spawned some hearty buzz. For a reality check, we sat down with our favorite vino vet, Ron Ciavolino. The 71-year-old head of wine studies at the Institute of Culinary Education has never fallen for wine trends, passing over trite descriptions like "mellow" and "oaky" in favor of the more florid "This Riesling is like skipping through a field of lavendah!" (bellowed in his ear-shattering native Brooklyn accent).

We met up over a Bellini at Harry Cipriani, where he called out his favorite wine bars, dubbed Soho enotecas "bowling alleys for 12-year-olds" and suggested that New York Times food critic Frank Bruni missed the mark in his zero-star review of Cipriani.

Any good wine bars where you live in Windsor Terrace, Brooklyn? Nothing. Civilization hasn't quite reached it. The quality of the air is good, but the boredom is absolutely insurmountable. Shopping is dreadful. The social life is nonexistent. But it's healthy.

Did your family drink a lot of wine when you were younger? We drank cheap stuff, but there was wine at every meal--Gallo by the gallon. In Italy, they give children wine with water in it, so it becomes a normal thing. I grew up in Windsor Terrace, with old Irish families. Italians stayed in their houses and ate lasagna. The Irish went to bars. After the 12:30 mass, people went to the local bar with baby carriages. The children played with coloring books. The mother and father drank beer at the bar. They were safer than the candy stores.

So why did you choose a career in wine? I always thought wine was a wonderful thing--just enhanced life, especially in the postmodern world, where there seems to be so little romance left and life is so hard for people.

Why do you think wine bars are enjoying a renaissance here? Well, I think a lot of it is just a gimmick. I think they're more dating clubs than anything. You go to those wine bars in Soho, they're more bowling alleys--there's no romance. Everybody's 12 years old.

The one on Houston, Centovini? Well, I'm not going to mention any names but it's a general impression: They're all 12 years old and stumbling around. They couldn't care less; they're looking for dates.

Got it. Why is Harry Cipriani at the top of your list of favorites? You're part of the familyEverybody has a personality, and they know you. This is what The New York Times doesn't understand: charm. Charm. A lot of waiters these days don't have charm--a lot of them are too young, many of them are actors. They think they have charm, but it's not charm.

So you think Bruni was out of line with his zero-star review? No, I understand his irritation. I would have that same irritation if I didn't know them. They can be arrogant sometimes, but an Italian waiter is never arrogant the way a French waiter is arrogant. If you irritate a French waiter, he'll say something like, [fakes French accent] "Why don't you go off and have a pizza and a Coca-Cola somewhere." An Italian waiter will never do that. An Italian waiter never confronts, he just ignores. But the food--look at the prices! Prosciutto is like $30. I mean, it's good prosciutto. But look [opens menu, points]--it's like something out of the stock exchange. But the people keep coming because it's a clubby atmosphere. [Bruni] mentioned it and dismissed it. But in a city like New York where it can be so cold, they make you feel good. And that means a lot.

You like their Bellini? Giuseppe [who opened the original Cipriani in Venice] was a genius. He invented it in honor of a Bellini exhibit. It's made with white peach juice, which has to be hand-squeezed through a chinois. They add a touch of raspberry syrup with a dash of lemon.

Is it fair to say you like your waiters Italian and your bartenders Irish? No, I like people who have personality and charm. You go to a bar, you go to talk to the bartender, complain and bitch, hear a few jokes, leave--most young people don't have that any more. Most bartenders feel like they're giving away something for nothing if they're charming. I want schmaltz. There's no schmaltz.

Define schmaltz. Charm, humanity, warmth, a sense of camaraderie.

You don't think it's a negative term? It can be. Young people think it's too romantic. Young people feel you have to be clear-eyed, a man of science, marching off into the dawn, with your eyes reflecting the rising sun. And that would be a very cold world.

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