Enoteca Wine Bar

Where: 21 N. Tacoma Avenue, Tacoma, 253.779.8258
Hours: Tuesday-Thursday 11:30 a.m. to 9 p.m.; Friday-Saturday 11:30 a.m. to 10 p.m.
Cuisine: Grilled paninis, sandwiches, fresh salads, cheese, fruit, and meat plates, soups and dessert.
Scene: Casual and intimate bistro/wine bar, 21+
Drinkies: Extensive wine list by glass and bottle, limited beer, sparkling water, sodas
Damage:  $2-$50

ANNOUNCER: The front window bears a small neon sign with lazy purple letters. Enoteca Wine Bar serves much more than vino and should be classified as a bistro with strong focus on imported artisan cheeses and an exceptional wine list due to the adjacent Tacoma Wine Merchants. A joint operation of owner Bill Bonnie, the wine shop is connected to Enoteca by double doors. This symbiotic relationship allows for the unique opportunity of purchasing wine in the shop, taking your bottle next door and enjoying it with any number of food items — grilled panini, fresh salads, and cheese, fruit, and meat plates, sandwiches and dessert. The small space is dominated by massive chalkboards that act as larger-than-life menus of white and red wines and an impressive selection of cheese. 

JAKE: Wine bar with excellent cheese or cheese bar with amazing wine? Hmmm, so hard to determine. Not hard to decide was ordering the cheese plate appetizer. It’s a no-brainer and a great way to stretch the boundaries of your gastro comfort zone. Ask for a stinky cheese and the staff rattles off recommendations without even glancing at the board.

JASON: Off topic, but hot weather does not automatically mean Corona and Bud Lime, does it? Every barbecue we went to over the past two weeks had coolers overflowing with brewskis. Ugh, I dread beer and potato chips. How am I supposed to do yoga with that kind of bloat going?

JAKE: That yoga bit throws me every time, but I hear you on the beer issue. Seasonal drinking habits do dictate that summer equals brews and fruity liquor concoctions. That’s why we picked Enoteca — to avoid that. People have been enjoying wine year-round since 6000 B.C. and artisan cheese since the eighth century. Why should we stop now?

JASON: Right. Here’s how my weather-influenced wine preference breaks down. Red wine is a classy woman at the ballet in the winter while white wine is summer’s girl at the punk rock bar where you almost get arrested and then wake up missing a shoe with “Dude, where’s my car?” on your lips. Oh, hello, white wine and summer. Rev it up! I was mesmerized by the 4-inch tall lettering on the huge wine lists; Italian Prosecco stood out. My cupped hands warmed a glass of it, helping the chill to ease and release additional taste layers that would otherwise be dulled into cold oblivion. As anticipated, crisp Prosecco beautifully complemented the Belgium cheese Pave de la Wauche and spiced apple and rosemary chutney on the cheese plate. Murky gold in color, the Pave had a distinct earthy flavor with thin rind that added a somewhat gritty texture to the cheese that I actually liked.

JAKE: Like you have ever been so lucky as to have a run-in with your mythical white wine girl. You met your wife in college, freak. I smeared triple crème into ribbon thin sections of prosciutto and popped the globs into my mouth. There’s something so very decadent and base about ultra rich cheese being eaten with ultra rich meat sans bread. I chomped a few tangy, wrinkled green olives for good crunchy contrast.

JASON: Yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever. A tomato-based salmon soup had the consistency of a stew, the spice of a gumbo and the appearance of Manhattan-style chowder. It was thick and filling. I’m partial to a smooth, even sauvignon blanc for its ability to cut through spicy food. I used my knife to mash chunks of pungent French bleu cheese into soft slices of rustic bread before repetitious dunking amped the comfort factor.

JAKE: I like that the soups rotate. The day I dined a chilled peppery avocado that was both creamy and thin was the soup du jour. Finely chopped fresh green herbs lay across the soup’s surface. I cut pieces from my quattro formaggio grilled panini and used the avocado soup as a big dish of herby green dipping sauce. The four cheeses were a light-colored Vermont reserve cheddar, mozzarella, provolone, and blue cheese for a salty bump.

JASON: What if there was a company called Cheeses of Nazareth that specialized in Swiss cheese? You know, with holes. Get it, holey cheese?

JAKE: Yes, and I’m back to ignoring you. The Northwest salad had the most amazingly moist smoked salmon I have ever had. Three slabs were laid out across a bountiful bed of lush, dark green lettuce leaves dressed in tangy olive oil with dried sweet Washington cherries and a ton of pine nuts. I’d never had dried cherries before, and like the olives, they provided a good chewy contrast to the soft salmon and lettuce.

JASON: I really wanted chocolate ganache. I’d been thinking about it for days and wanted to savor it with an Argentinean Malbec. What we got was a trio of different types of chocolate coins that were twice the size of fifty cent pieces arranged on a swirled pattern of raspberry sauce with a sprig of fresh mint. I’m not complaining. The chocolates were excellent, especially the Occumare Venezuelan, which is an earthy medium chocolate with a woody molasses hint. Hey, these cocoa coins would make pretty tasty pasties if they didn’t melt.

JAKE: Wow, man, just let me finish with the dessert and then you can perv out. Ahem. I’m usually not a fan of white chocolate, but this one won me over possibly due to the 80 percent cocoa oil. Maybe it was the raspberry sauce and the little bits of that fresh mint I ate with it. The dessert was perfect in its small size and richness. Sparkling bottled water acted as a great palate cleanser.