From Eater 2/13/20:
In Paris, a lot of nights out start like this: squeezing into a small bar around an even smaller table and splitting a bottle of wine, likely French and definitely natural. Sometimes there’s a list, but often the wines are on display on the surrounding walls, their prices of just 20 or 30 euros scrawled in white chalk marker at the base of their necks.
The wine is good: tasty, carefully made, maybe even important. But the real magic isn’t in what you’re drinking. In these tight spaces serving nothing but natural wine and little snacks — caves à vin — the vibe develops much like the wine you drink, the product of modern affectations toward old-fashioned practices, resulting in something organic, unpredictable, and deliciously specific to a time and place.
On warm nights, patrons spill out of the small space onto the street, glasses in hand. Time grows as fuzzy as the bar’s physical boundaries. Maybe you end your night at a wine bar, too. Maybe you never left.
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