Years ago, I ate in a restaurant in Amsterdam where the wine list did not include a certain bottle. A friend recently reminded me of that night by mentioning a wine that was not on the menu there. The memory returned vividly because the story touched the same nerve: a place that treats a rare bottle like a treasure, not merely a glass of wine.
Amsterdam’s Interrogation
I spotted a restaurant post about a wine named Kenjiro Kagami’s Domaine des Miroirs before heading to Amsterdam. The bottle appeared to be the sort a wine enthusiast would track down. Once I arrived at the city, the wine was absent from the menu. The sommelier then began asking me question after question.
- How do you know this wine?
- What do you know about the winemaker?
- Have you ever had this wine before?
- Are there other producers from this region you love?
The evening began oddly, with the restaurant’s staff treating the choice of wine like an interrogation. Afterward, they explained that they only receive a few bottles of that particular wine each year and wanted to ensure that each one found its way to someone who would truly appreciate it. The wine itself was excellent, the meal was excellent, and the service was steady and reliable throughout. Yet the experience remained strange and somewhat unsettling from the very beginning.
Manhattan’s Gate
A friend visited a famous eatery in Manhattan where a server identified him as a wine professional and suggested some outstanding “off list” wines. The friend accepted one, enjoyed it greatly, and returned a few weeks later. On this occasion, the server was someone else, and the interaction did not go well.
“That wine isn’t on the list. Where did you have it?”
“Here.”
“Who served it to you?”
“Another server, I don’t remember his name.”
“Here?”
“Yes, here.”
“Yeah, we have it.”
My friend walked away with a sour feeling after drinking a wine that cost less than $100, a simple bottle from an appellation that nobody talks about. It was far from the rare unicorn priced at hundreds of dollars.
Daniel Eddy’s Reward Program
Daniel Eddy, from Brooklyn’s Winner and Runner Up, has discussed having a separate list, though he views it more as a rewards program than anything else. Customers who eat with him five or ten times gain access to a special selection of rare, allocated bottles at a fair price. His logic is straightforward: certain wines come with deep discounts, and he wants to avoid guests picking those up without ever returning.
There is a complication to consider. When a visitor requests the “secret list”, and they are neither a regular nor someone you recognize, what then? They are familiar with the list. They are asking for it directly. How can hospitality still be extended in that circumstance?
I know of a restaurant where somms are instructed to tell guests a listed bottle is 86’d if the wine director does not know the guest or thinks they do not “deserve” the wine. That happens, and it is exactly why wine is struggling these days.
The Off-Menu Problem
Everyone should be able to buy any wine listed. The sommelier can guide guests toward bottles they believe they will love and direct them away from those they may not enjoy. However, if a guest spots a wine on the list and desires to purchase it, it must not be denied. That would be poor business.
There were caveats involved here too. I have sold off-list wines myself. At my restaurant LaLou, we kept plenty of bottles that were not listed for a variety of reasons. Some needed time and were held in the cellar until we thought they were ready. Occasionally, someone would come in and want that particular style of wine. We might sell them a bottle then.
Timing and judgment mark the difference between two kinds of cellaring. One waits for a wine to ripen, letting it sit in the cellar until it is ready to be opened. The other holds a bottle back from the list because a guest is not considered worthy of it.
What This Means for Hospitality
My belief is that every patron deserves an excellent and fair experience at a restaurant or bar, with each person feeling they are receiving something special. A separate list reserved only for regulars and wine enthusiasts contradicts that ideal. That secret list functions as a test, and tests do not constitute genuine hospitality.
A wine list that isn’t on the menu should feel like something rare and worth searching for, not something kept away from most people. Something rare is special because it’s hard to find. Something kept away from most people is exclusive, and that kind of keeping things separate is a wall. The people who keep that wall up are the ones losing customers, not the ones winning them.
Certain wines arrive at wine directors’ hands in limited quantities, and those bottles are meant for guests who can truly savor and value them. That is a fair objective. Yet it ought not be reached through making guests feel unworthy. Rather, it ought to be reached by treating every guest as someone capable of appreciation.
Amsterdam and Manhattan both teach the same lesson about off-menu wine lists: they should feel special, not exclusive.
| Experience | Result |
|---|---|
| Amsterdam | Wine great, meal great, service solid, interrogation off-putting |
| Manhattan | Sub-$100 bottle, bad taste in mouth, server questioned |
The tale of Manhattan came to a bad end when the server treated a sub-$100 bottle like a secret. The story from Amsterdam turned out well even after an interrogation because the restaurant apologized afterward. The contrast rests on openness.
Source material: “A Restaurant’s Off-Menu Wine List Should Feel Special, Not Exclusive,” VinePair.
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