MAASS

The wine list at MAASS is so elusive, it might as well be a cryptid. We scoured the internet, called around, and came up empty—no menu, no wine intel, no sommelier, nothing. If a restaurant's wine program can't even show up online in 2024, that tells you everything you need to know about how much they care.

Without access to an actual list, we're left guessing, but Fort Lauderdale's casual dining scene doesn't inspire confidence here. Based on similar spots in the area, expect the usual suspects: mass-market Chardonnay, Cabernet that tastes like oak chips dissolved in grape juice, and maybe a Pinot Grigio that's been sitting open since the Obama administration. No boutique producers, no regional diversity, no reason to get excited. This is wine as an afterthought—a checkbox on the beverage menu between Bud Light and mojitos.

If they even offer by-the-glass pours, we'd bet money it's the same four bottles you'd find at a hotel bar: something California and boring, something Italian and boring, something Australian and boring, plus a Prosecco for people who think they're being fancy. Rotation? Not a chance. These bottles are lifers.