A New Generation of Enoteca

As wine becomes more democratized, as it settles ever more comfortably into the mainstream, it is inevitable that we will have to change our expectations when we hear words like wine bar or enoteca.

Gone are the days when ‘enoteca’ summoned up images of women in calf-high boots and chain-smoking, Euro-slick men. Gone are the days when a wine bar itself was a center of all things sophisticated and well bred.

And thank goodness for that. Because it never made a whole lot of sense to me that the enjoyment of wine should be treated any differently from that of beer or spirits. If you like it, drink it…and do away with the pretension.

Finally, on this side of the pond, we’re starting to understand what we’ve been missing: the opportunity for a broad audience to take advantage of one of life’s greatest pleasures, a good glass of wine, in a casual, unintimidating environment.

The newly expanded Teca (the restaurant moved into its current space about a year ago), smack dab in the middle of West Chester’s East Gay Street, embodies this new ethos perfectly … perhaps a little too well.

During one recent Saturday-night visit, the crowd leaned toward the young, professional and drunk, and the amount of wine and beer being consumed was dramatic enough to send shivers down the back of any liver specialists who happened to be in the crowd.

In fact, I ate much of that meal in frightening proximity to the jeans-clad derriere of the drunk lad standing next to my table. (As an aside, the jeans were lovely—Diesel, I think, and distressed in a way only a $180 pair can be.)

The food, exclusive of the invading rear end, was, for the most part, not only successful, but served in huge portions—definitely not typical of a wine bar but certainly refreshing.

Hearty bean puree ($5), pleasantly rustic and served alongside focaccia strips, was a classic wine-bar starter. Its success, in fact, was mainly due to the fact that it didn’t try to be anything it wasn’t. Restraint, in food as in life, is often a good policy to follow.

Bruschetta all zia carla ($5), a simple construction of thin-sliced bread topped with mortadella and sweet gorgonzola, would have been a highlight had it not suffered under the weight of an odd slick of oil on the top.

The bilingually-named ‘toast agli asparagi ($5),’ while an odd item for a wine bar menu—asparagus is one of the single most wine-unfriendly ingredients around—played up the fontina and prosciutto San Daniele enough that the little spears of wine-death weren’t really given the chance to interfere.

Panino goloso ($8.95), whose name either translates to ‘gourmand’ or ‘gluttonous’ panino (perhaps a little bit of both), was composed of surprisingly moist slices of roast pork that had been sautéed with mildly bitter broccoli rabe, red pepper flakes, and roasted red peppers that, though I would have liked to see more of them, nonetheless brought a solid sense of sweetness to the dish.

The surprise star, however, was the buffalo mozzarella salad ($9.95), a painter’s-palette sized gathering of radicchio, arugula, endive, cherry tomatoes, and roasted red peppers, all of it tossed with a particularly piquant vinaigrette and anchored by a tender, silky ball of tangy mozzarella whose Southern Italian origins were deliciously evident.

Only the cannoli ($6.95) proved to be a true disappointment, a grand-looking dessert whose flavor was every bit as depressing as the presentation was dramatic. The ricotta-mascarpone-Grand Marnier filling tasted like the refrigerator and possessed the waxy texture of a melted crayon.

But that was the only serious mistake from the kitchen. And while Teca’s food likely won’t change your culinary life, it is a more than pleasant enough accompaniment to the wine you’ll drink.

As far as that wine list, it’s certainly big enough and covers enough ground that you should be able to find a glass or three that satisfies your fancy. (The reserve list incidentally, benefits from a 1,200-bottle cellar.) But it’s also a bit of a mine field, so a sense of caution is also in order: Prices range from the standard ($90 for a bottle of Veuve Clicquot “Yellow Label” Brut NV—about a 100 percent mark-up from retail) to the downright unfair ($35 for the Yellow Tail Reserve Shiraz—about a 350 percent mark-up).

Also, make sure to ask your server the price of any special wines by the glass not listed on the menu. I failed to do so, and got stuck with a $15 pour of mediocre Amarone.

These issues aside, though, Teca represents the new generation of wine bar and restaurant more than adequately. It’s casual, affordable and appealing enough to a young crowd that it may just show those 20- and 30-somethings what they’ve been missing by drinking cheap beer all these years. And that is unquestionably a good thing. Now, if that guy could only do something about his jeans.

Teca is located at 38 East Gay St. in West Chester, and can be reached by phone at (610) 738-8244.