Oh the wine bar. Ever so refined and genteel. Almost a rejection of everything that is masculine and Bud Light-ish. But, honestly, thank god these bastions of rosé exist in the world if not to counter every fucking Chilis and mall-rat Shuanassy O’Clanahans that we’re bombarded with on a weekly basis. That’s not to say I’m about to drink pink wine, but at least there’s a safe space for those who care to imbibe.
Now, La Cava is what I understand to be an Italian wine bar. Not that they only serve Italian wine, but the mostly small-plate menu is stacked with cheese and swirly pork product and those disgusting little pickles that I always think are Cornish game hens (because the name sounds like that). This is all served in a space that is about the size of two-thirds of one subway car and decorated like the shabby chic Crate & Barrel collection circa 2003, or like the upstairs at an Anthropologie. The ceiling is lower than it should be and the space between the stools pulled up to the bar and the tables behind them is negligible. In other words, it’s not a roomy place and quickly fills when toting a few co-workers. So come early and grab a spot before someone else snakes it.
I did end up here for happy hour with a table full of co-workers, in fact. All of whom were women and were really into the deep pours of rosé for $8 a glass. I went with Radeberger, one of the two beers on tap, for what I think was $5 each. Pretty decent deal. A little too decent based on the end-result sobriety of my table mates. We were there for completely too long and I’m sure their discussions about Vanderpump Rules got way louder than the space could support. I seem to recall folks nibbling charcuterie and constantly refilling their glasses, dumping the new wine into the old wine and cycling through tens of large red wine glasses.
Look, I’m not sure this is a place built for guys like me. I’m not sure it’s honestly built for any guys, honestly, but I can totally imagine it as a perfect after-work or working lunch restaurant for the lady in your life. Or a dude who really loves those little pickles and small salads with fruit in them.