Dining 2008: The rise of the wine bar

Terroir, in the East Village

These past several years can be called, among many (probably more useful) names, the Era of the Wine Bar. And instead of crashing and burning like so many tipsy, sloshy and dark little dens, the New York City wine bar has elevated itself beyond Trendy Drinking Fad to the realm of Full-Fledged Food Destination—thanks in no small part to the fact that, unlike, say, beer, wine makes you very hungry. A hunger that calls first for cheese and charcuterie, and then for rich and tasty gourmet bites—"bites" that have been getting progressively more elaborate, delicious and generous around the city. So generous, in fact, that you can (and should) call them dinner. Which is all a long-winded way of saying: Some top-notch wine bars have blossomed into top-notch restaurants.

Chef Jody Williams (formerly of Morandi and Gusto) has transformed the lovably splinter-sized Gottino from a go-to wine bar to a go-to "gastroteca"—a gastropub, but with wine by the glass, carafe and bottle. Come for the Prosecco, stay for the lardo melted over toast. Or come for the pot of chicken-liver patê and stay for the shiraz. Or come for all of them at once, as frequently as possible.

Black Mountain Wine House, the log-cabin-style wine bar and small-plates restaurant that's one wonderfully quiet long block away from Smith Street, has acquired a feverishly loyal clientele. And although Black Mountain's draw is ostensibly its wine (so reasonably priced! $6 for the house manager's daily pick), patrons are increasingly lured by the elegant and hearty small(ish) plates—all $10—from the cheese and charcuterie to the more adventurous Swiss chard and ricotta pie ("with a spritz of greens and balsamic syrup") and the wild mushroom and truffle oil mac-and-cheese. Also: Fondue Tuesdays! ($16)

Although The JakeWalk opened as a wine-and-cheese-and-whiskey bar (to better show off the goods from its neighborhood siblings Smith & Vine and Stinky Bklyn), it's sicne grown up into an official, if petite, restaurant, serving entrée-size meals like the fondue for two ($14), the foie gras terrine ($40) and its seasonal salads (as well as daily entrée specials) alongside glasses of Bordeaux, rolls of hot sopressata and domino-size stacks of Humboldt Fog chevre. Frugal wine-heads will appreciate their free-cheese Sundays, when all cheeses from 2 to 4 p.m. are offered up for nothing (although we'd recommend buying a glass of wine).

Terroir's name—"solid earth" in Latin—tips its hat to the particular geography where a wine's grapes were grown, which gives the wine its unique local flavor. And though Terroir's wine list is mighty for such a small spot (200 different bottles in a 24-seat space), the menu of small bites—from melty duck ham panini ($11) to hearty veal-and-ricotta meatballs ($17)—offers an equal if not opposite pull. Fortunately you don't have to choose between them.

As the legendary Spice Girls once said, "2 become 1," which accurately describes Ten Bells' ability to harmoniously merge two trends that have since become permanent: It's not just a wine bar, it's an organic wine bar, serving 15 all-natural, biodynamic and sustainable wines by the glass and 50 more by the bottle. And, yes, a deliciously un-vegetarian, Euro-inspired menu offers—in addition to the standard cheese-and-meat plates—wild boar sausage, lamb proscuitto, wild sea bass ceviche and duck tartare (all, wonderfully, under $10).