He had me at
Merlot. Of course, I was sympathetic towards Brian Robinson, a nice Brooklyn
guy, even before he started plying me with spoiled French grape juice.
Robinson, you see, wanted to open a high-end liquor store on somewhat-low-end
Myrtle Avenue in Fort Greene — but the State Liquor Authority wouldn’t
let him.
For two years, dozens of trees were felled to provide the paper that Robinson
and the SLA churned out in the back-and-forth legal battle.
During that time, Robinson’s opponents — surprise, they own
nearby liquor stores! — convinced the SLA that Robinson was involved
in a nefarious “wine-trafficking” ring because he used to run
private wine-tastings where customers would (gasp!) buy a bottle or two
afterwards.
They also contended that the area — Robinson wants to open on Myrtle
Avenue between Adelphi Street and Clermont Avenue — doesn’t
need another wine store, even one owned by a guy who knows the difference
between a good rose and Wild Irish Rose.
After all, who needs boutique booze when there are already four liquor
stores within a few blocks? Who needs a nice Domaine Pelaquie when there
are already gallons of Thunderbird for sale? Who needs an educated oenophile
working the store when you can just slip $5 through some bulletproof glass
and be guzzling Mateus as fast as you can twist off a screw cap?
| Brian Robinson’s 6 rules for enjoying wine: 1. Always buy by the case. “It’s the way to get discounts.” 2. Taste before you buy. 3. Learn about wine in social, not academic, settings. “That’s 4. Ignore critics and develop your own palate. 6. Don’t be afraid to spend $10 on a bottle of wine. “There |
In the end,
those arguments failed to persuade an appeals judge. So this month, Robinson
was the one cracking open the Billecart Salmon 2003 after the judge ordered
the SLA to give him his long-sought permit.
Victory was sweet (but not too sweet, because no one likes that Manischewitz
Concord Grape). Robinson now plans to open Gnarly Vines in September (the
name is not a skateboarding term, but refers to old grape vines, which
supposedly bear the best fruit).
The area where
he’s planning to open is a rapidly changing strip of Myrtle Avenue,
where 99-cent stores are giving way to art galleries, and nail salons
are becoming places like Pillow, a coffee bar/lounge. There’s even
a Connecticut Muffin, that Park Slope mainstay.
I wandered into the nearest liquor store, and was impressed. Not by the
wine selection, of course, but by how many more Lottery tickets were being
sold than wine. Clearly, this is a store that serves its community.
The unnamed store specializes in wines for people who select their spirits
by the size of a Bacardi model’s chest. But it does serve a purpose.
For instance, a wave of nostalgia came over me when I saw an extra-large
bottle of Beringer White Zinfindel on sale for a mere $10.99. It was the
first wine I ever enjoyed — and also the first wine I ever got sick
on.
What a night that was!
But I’ve come a long way in my appreciation of wine, so I slipped
$5 through the Plexiglas for a bottle of Rene Junot — a French table
wine that we insiders call “the rascal of the vineyard” —
and headed to Robinson’s Fort Greene pad to celebrate his triumph
over the SLA.
Bringing the Rene Junot was a test to see if Robinson, whom I’d never
met, was some kind of oen-hole. But he accepted the cheap gift graciously,
opened it up, had a glass, didn’t complain — and then pulled
the good stuff off his shelf.
“There’s nothing wrong with a Rene Junot,” he said. “But
in my store, I’ll have wines that for just one dollar more will blow
you away.”
A $6 bottle of wine? Who could oppose this man?
