Shift Drink

Clo

As much as I hate to admit a visit to the Time Warner Center, at least this time I had a good excuse—wine tasting. Clo is a tiny kiosk of a wine bar situated on the fourth floor nestled in the passageway between its higher-profile neighbors like Per Se and Masa. It’s easy to walk by Clo with as little regard as you might have for a Precious Moments booth in the mall. Once inside, though, you bear witness to the wine bar of the future. There are no antiques, and the menu is not intentionally scuffed. Clo is a oenological techno remix. Thank God for Kendra, our server, who, sensing our bewilderment, came to our rescue. About a hundred wines are lined up behind glass windows that make the whole place feel like a giant vending machine whose ominous walls are slowly caving in on you.

Kendra sweetly breaks down the rules of engagement and asks for a credit card. She will offer you the wine list in a binder, but the better way to experience it is by touching the interactive table which projects pictures of each wine bottle along with grape varietals, region, price, and tasting notes. An infrared sensor above measures your movement so you can scroll through the list like an Iphone. The technology is not perfect, but it looks cool as hell.

Once you’ve selected your wine, your server issues you a plastic debit card and directs you to the proper window corresponding to that wine. (Each wine has a code on the wall—like E4—making it even more eerily like a candy machine.) Prices range between about $10 to the mid-$50s per each four-ounce pour.

My first glass was a 2006 "Silene" Crozes-Hermitage from J.L. Chave, which spewed freshly from the metal spout like hot drip coffee. The wine dispensation system, The Enomatic, takes center stage at Clo. The Italian-made apparatus keeps wine fresh by shooting a wisp of argon gas into the bottle to prevent oxidation between servings. The Enomatic has its critics, but I experienced the wines of Clo to be very fresh and alive. I would’ve liked a slightly bigger pour, though.

Brian, one of the partners who was also managing that night, came over to taste us on a Bierzo from Spain—something I think he was considering adding to the candy machine. I was surprised by its freshness since I always find Spanish red brooding and overly oaky. This Bierzo, Brian explained, carries a “Joven” designation which means that the wine is released younger and without the oak conditioning so typical of the regions reds.

I was looking for something a little barn-yardy for my next glass and Brian suggested a funky Languedoc, the 2006 “Terre D’Ombre” from Reynaud Delille, made with 100% Mourvedre grapes. The wine, essentially a declassified Bandol made from younger vines, delivered as advertised and was a nice accompaniment to our cheese plate.

The ambiance is the biggest drawback to Clo, but I noticed the clientele—mostly women—seemed not to mind. By 7 PM, most of the stools along the 20-foot table were filled. It’s a great place to meet after work to catch up on the day’s gossip or a fun first date where the adventure of serving yourself could distract from the awkwardness. For those of us who work in restaurant biz, well… I guess you could say it’s just like being a kid in a candy store.

—Warren Peace
Managing Editor

CLO
Time Warner Center
10 Columbus Circle
New York, NY 10019
212-823-9898
www.clowines.com

About the Author

Warren’s feet are sore from too many years in the restaurant business. He lives in New York City where he is working on his first novel, Getting Lucky, a coming-of-age story set in the seedy underworld of Greyhound buses and late 90’s porn. He has no wife, no kids, and does not work lunch.