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The wine bar seems to finally be making a resurgence. A decade or two ago, they were all the rage, but many were supplanted by speakeasies and other craft-cocktail havens. I enjoy mixed drinks — I’ll take my martini stirred, not shaken, thank you — but having visited so many vineyards and having met so many vignerons, my heart belongs to wine.
I love going to wine bars as much as wineries, because good ones teach me something. They offer the opportunity to try something new, something I wouldn’t ordinarily have the chance to sample by the glass. During our time in Santa Monica, we found two contrasting wine bars worthy of note near our hotel.
The name of this industrial-chic space off Santa Monica Boulevard has no apostrophe, because it refers to fragrant molecular compounds, not a person. It has small tables and a patio, but we opted for stools at the horseshoe-shaped bar. The menu of Spanish and French classics, like duck rillettes with mustard, octopus confit with charred leek and lemon, and gnocchi Parisienne looked tempting, as did the lists of cheeses and charcuterie. But with a big dinner in our immediate future, we stuck to wine.