Wine List Reviews

Tao Downtown is not a wine destination — it's a scene destination with a better-than-expected wine list tucked inside it. Come for the Wednesday half-price bottles, order the Jordan or Jadot, and leave the Screaming Eagle for a room that can do it justice.

Sake No Hana is the rare spot where the wine list outpunches the concept — a focused, France-first program with serious bottles in a room that's more scene than cellar. If you're going anyway, let Michael Wyant point you toward something worth drinking.

Kappo Sono is a genuinely unusual thing — a French wine list that actually makes sense at a Japanese counter — and it pulls it off. If you're going for the food, order wine here; it's clearly not an afterthought.

Come for the sushi, skip the wine list. This is a beer-and-sake situation and there's nothing wrong with that — just don't expect the wine program to add anything to your night.

Drift is a reliable California wine list bolted onto a genuinely great view — it'll satisfy most tables without challenging anyone. Send a friend if they want a safe, well-executed bottle with their steak and a killer skyline; just don't send them expecting to discover something new.

Hudson & Co is a well-run California list with a credentialed sommelier, a knockout view, and enough serious bottles to make dinner feel like an occasion. The markups and the lack of range outside Napa and Sonoma keep it from being a destination wine experience, but if you love California reds and want to drink well in Jersey City with the skyline as your backdrop, this works.

Kuro isn't going to change how you think about wine lists, but it will pour you a genuinely good California Cab or Chardonnay at a fair price while you eat excellent sushi in Atlantic City — and on a Wednesday, when the list goes half-price, it becomes one of the better wine deals on the Jersey Shore. Send a friend who likes recognizable names done well.

Wakuda isn't a wine destination in the way a dedicated wine bar is, but it's doing something genuinely interesting — pairing a focused, high-quality California-and-Burgundy list with Japanese cuisine that actually rewards that combination. If you're eating here, drink the wine; Luis Guillen knows what he's doing.

Nobu Las Vegas is a reliable wine destination in the sense that it won't let you down, but it won't thrill you either — this is a California-focused list built for name recognition over discovery, with Strip-level pricing to match. Send a friend here for the Black Cod and a solid Chardonnay, not for a wine education.

Morimoto Las Vegas is a better restaurant than its wine list deserves — three legit sommeliers, proper storage, and some serious California bottles trapped inside a list that doesn't take many risks. Come for the Flowers Pinot and the toro tartare, skip the Opus One markup, and let the staff do their job.

Whisky & Ramen is a Wild Card in the best sense — a fusion spot in downtown Anchorage that bothers to think about wine and mostly gets it right, even if the markups sting a little. Send a friend here for the ramen first, the whisky second, and the wine as a very welcome surprise.

Tony's wine list isn't going to make anyone's destination list, but the pricing is fair, the BTG picks are strategically sound for the food, and it doesn't embarrass itself. If you're here for the hibachi, you'll be fine — just aim for the Riesling and leave the Pinot Noir alone.

3rd Cousin is the Wild Card in full effect — a neighborhood restaurant on a quiet San Francisco street that has quietly built a Franco-Californian list serious enough to earn national recognition. Send your wine-curious friends here and watch them figure out this city has more going on than Divisadero.

Watami is worth visiting for the sushi — the Maine crab roll alone makes the trip — but the wine list is an afterthought dressed up with steep markups. Do yourself a favor and lean into the sake program, or bring your own bottle if corkage is an option.

NoMI Kitchen is a trophy wine list inside a trophy hotel, and it earns its Wild Card badge by combining a serious California-France cellar with a French-Japanese menu that actually gives you somewhere interesting to take those bottles. Come with a budget and a specific wine in mind — the list rewards the prepared diner more than the casual one.

Miru is a Wild Card because nobody expects their omakase-adjacent Japanese dinner spot to be hiding Domaine Dujac and Ridge Monte Bello — but here we are. The markups are real and the by-the-glass program won't change your life, but for a special night with the lake as your backdrop, there's enough here to drink very, very well.

Ômo by Jônt is a Wild Card in the best sense — a serene Japanese tasting counter in Winter Park that punches well above its zip code on wine. The list is focused rather than exhaustive, Juan Valencia keeps things grounded, and the California-France axis is a genuinely smart match for the food. Markups are steep, but that's the price of admission at this level; go in knowing the wine is part of the experience, not a footnote.

Nami is the kind of surprise that earns its Wine Spectator badge — a Japanese restaurant in Lake Nona that treats French wine with genuine seriousness, backed by a knowledgeable staff member who can actually guide you through it. Markups keep it from being a steal, but if you're eating omakase anyway, ordering from this list is the right call.

Kuro is a handsome, well-executed restaurant with a wine list that does its job — if your job is selling recognizable California bottles at casino-hotel margins. Worth a glass if you're already at the Hard Rock, but don't come specifically for the wine program.

Makoto is a Wild Card in the best sense: nobody expects serious Burgundy and California cult bottles in a Japanese restaurant at 8,150 feet, but here they are. The markups will sting, but if you're already eating here, you've already made peace with Vail pricing — lean into the Leflaive and don't look back.

Hooked is a reliably solid wine stop in a town where the bar is set low and the prices are set high — it clears both hurdles with the French selections doing the heavy lifting. Send a friend here if they want something more than a house pour with their oysters; just steer them away from the red wine instinct.

Ember Steak is a solid, unpretentious Napa steakhouse wine list — it does California classics well, doesn't embarrass itself on storage or service, but the steep markups and lack of adventurousness keep it from being anything more than a reliable choice. Send a friend here if they love big Napa Cabs and don't want to think too hard; tell them to skip the trophy bottles.

Ceviches By Divino isn't a wine destination, but it's a smarter list than the concept demands — and in a city where Peruvian wine is essentially nonexistent on restaurant lists, that Tacama pour alone earns a recommendation. Come for the ceviche, stay for a glass of something you've never tried before.

Pa'La is the kind of place that earns a Wine Spectator credential by actually caring — the list is tight, Old World-focused, and priced fairly for what you're getting. Send a friend here and tell them to skip the Super Tuscans and drink Sicilian.

Vida is the kind of wine program that makes you wish more mid-sized American cities had a Jared May running their lists — deep Burgundy, serious California, and a dining concept that actually justifies both. Yes, you'll pay for it, but this is a Wine Spectator Best of Award of Excellence winner for real reasons.

l'abeille is playing at a level most Tribeca restaurants aren't even attempting — a focused, deeply sourced French list with three knowledgeable sommeliers on staff and the glassware to match. The markups will test your commitment, but if Burgundy is your religion, this is one of the better places to practice it in New York.

The Lobster Club is the rare place where a Best of Award of Excellence feels earned rather than inherited — a 500-bottle list built with genuine conviction, backed by knowledgeable staff, in one of New York's most iconic rooms. Markups are real and the room is expensive, but if you're going to spend money on wine in this city, this is one of the better places to do it.

Sushi Noz is running one of the most intentional wine programs in New York — not the biggest, not the cheapest, but absolutely one of the best when it comes to matching world-class wine to world-class fish. Send your friends here, but tell them to budget for both.

Nama earned its Wine Spectator Best of Award of Excellence and you'll feel exactly why the moment you open the list. The markup is real and the occasion needs to match, but for a proper celebration dinner where the wine is as serious as the food, this is one of the better rooms in the city.

Makoto is a genuinely surprising wine list hiding inside a beautiful Japanese restaurant by the ocean — the France and California depth is real, the Wednesday half-price night is a gift, and the Puligny from Leflaive alone is worth the detour. Just know that the markups climb fast once you move into trophy territory, and there's no dedicated sommelier to guide you through it.

Zuma is playing in a different league than most Miami restaurants — three named sommeliers, 400+ bottles, and a Wednesday half-price wine night that is frankly absurd on a list with Penfolds Grange on it. The markups are real and the list skews toward the usual suspects, but the depth, the staff, and the sheer ambition of pairing this wine program with a robata grill earn the Rager badge without much debate.

MAASS is the real thing — a sommelier-driven program with genuine depth, proper glassware, and staff that actually knows what's in the cellar. Markups run steep at the top end, but this is a Best of Award of Excellence list for a reason, and it earns every bit of the credential.

Hinoki earned its Wine Spectator Best of Award of Excellence and the list backs that up — serious producers, serious depth, and actual human beings who know the cellar. Greenwich pricing means you'll pay for the privilege, but if you're here for omakase and you want a bottle of Leflaive Puligny-Montrachet to go with it, this is exactly the right room.

Restaurant Nisei is the rare spot where the wine program was clearly designed alongside the food, not just dropped into place after the fact. Yes, the markup is real, but when the list runs from Alsace Riesling to DRC and the staff can walk you through why each makes sense with the menu, you're paying for expertise — and at Nisei, it shows.

Niku is the rare steakhouse where the wine list earns as much attention as the beef — a Best of Award of Excellence since 2022 that's clearly not just decorative. Prices are steep across the board, but if you're already dropping serious money on A5 Wagyu, the list has more than enough to make the whole evening worth it.

Sushi Nakazawa LA is not a wine destination in the broadest sense, but if your world is Champagne and Burgundy — and for omakase, it probably should be — this list is focused, credible, and worth exploring. The markups sting, but Wednesday half-price wine night makes this one of the smarter date-night moves in the city.

The Harbor House Inn has no business having a wine list this good two hours from anywhere, and that's exactly why you should go. Bring someone you want to impress, order the Littorai, watch the Pacific, and let Jason Chin's team do the rest.

Toro is a genuine surprise — a small Japanese tasting destination in Carmel that takes Burgundy as seriously as its omakase. The prices are real, but so is the quality, and a Wine Spectator Best of Award of Excellence in its debut year tells you the effort isn't accidental.

SingleThread is one of the few restaurants in California where the wine program genuinely matches the ambition of the kitchen — deep cellar, expert staff, and a list that rewards curiosity at every price point above $100. Yes, it's expensive by any reasonable measure, but if you're already committing to the tasting menu, do not sleep on what's in that cellar.

Japango is a legitimately good sushi restaurant that treats its wine list like a legal obligation rather than an asset. Do yourself a favor: explore the sake list, order a Japanese whisky, or bring your own bottle if corkage is an option — because the wine program here isn't worth your money.

Blue Sushi isn't a wine destination, but it's not trying to be — it's a lively sushi spot with a serviceable list that gets you through dinner without any regrets. Send your friends here for the food and order something cold; just skip the Santa Margherita.

Kyoto is a genuinely good restaurant that deserves a better wine list — but until someone there decides to care, stick to the Riesling by the glass and spend your energy on the food. Don't come here for wine.

Sushi Muramoto is a solid restaurant with a wine list that treats wine as an afterthought — safe brands, static selection, and markups that punish curiosity. Order the Bruno Kab Riesling, enjoy your fish, and save your wine energy for somewhere that cares.

Kabuki is a fun night out — just don't come for the wine. Order a sake, grab a Japanese beer, or treat the half-carafe Moscato as a guilty pleasure and move on with your life.

Wasabi's wine list exists to sell you something you already recognize at a price you'll regret in the morning. Skip the bottle, order sake or a cocktail, and save the wine budget for somewhere that earned it.

Azumi is a Wild Card in the best sense — it looks like a place where you'd order sake and ignore the wine list, but the list rewards the curious drinker with fair prices, genuine producers, and a sommelier on staff who can actually help you navigate it. Come for the miso cod, stay for the Riesling.

Ogawa's wine list is short, focused, and mostly sensible — a supporting cast for one of Philly's most serious omakase counters. We'd send a friend here for the food and tell them to order the Sancerre or the Verdicchio and not overthink the rest.

Shiro's wine list won't win any awards, but the Livio Felluga hiding at the bottom is a genuine find. Come for the sushi, order the white wine, and don't let anyone pour you a Cab.

Osaka's wine list is an afterthought bolted onto a restaurant that's actually pretty good at Japanese food — drink the sake, grab a Cava if you need bubbles, and don't expect much more than that. We wouldn't send anyone here specifically for the wine.

Sushi Roku is a great place to eat and a fine place to drink wine, so long as you're not there for the wine. The list is safe, the markups are real, and the energy of the room will distract you from caring too much — which is probably the intent.

O-Ku is doing more with wine than almost any sushi restaurant in Atlanta, and the Pacific Northwest whites alone are worth your attention. Markups keep it from being a true destination for wine, but as sushi-and-wine combinations go, this one actually tries.

Sushi Blues isn't a wine destination, but the half-price bottle nights on Wednesday and Sunday change the math entirely — a steep list becomes a reasonable one fast. Show up on a weeknight, order the Matua, eat your rolls, and don't overthink it.

Roka Akor's wine list is exactly what a high-end Japanese steakhouse should have: competent, well-stored, sommelier-guided, and built to complement serious food. Just don't come expecting bargains — the markups are real, and the list rewards the drinker who knows where to look.

This isn't a wine destination, and the restaurant isn't pretending it is. Order sake or beer and you'll have a better experience.

Come for the onion volcano and knife tricks, not the wine program. If you must drink wine here, keep it simple and cheap—or better yet, order sake and call it a night.

This is the rare Strip restaurant where the wine program isn't an afterthought. Yes, you'll pay for the privilege, but the depth and sake selection justify sending a wine-loving friend here—especially if they're dropping serious money on omakase anyway.

Etaru's wine program does the job without doing much else. If you're here for the food and ambiance, order sake or a cocktail and save your wine exploration for another night.

Itamae's wine list does the job without trying to be a hero. If you're here for the omakase, order sake or a safe white and let the fish do the talking.

Osaka Nikkei has a sommelier who understands the cuisine and a list that supports it, but you're paying Brickell prices for a compact selection. Come for the food and the bubbles — skip the trophy Napa bottles unless someone else is buying.