By Karen Hudes, ZAGAT.com staff editor
>Is it
really legal to bring your own wine into your favorite Manhattan BYO bistro? Can you get past the door with a Bordeaux in Boston? And will a Chicago waiter fill your glass if you've supplied the vino?
The answers to those questions may surprise you, because the deceptively simple practice of bringing your own bottle to a restaurant actually involves a morass of laws, loopholes and licensing struggles that vary from city to city. But when it works, BYO can be a boon for diners who want to sip a favorite wine without paying a big markup. It can also be a plus for restaurateurs, since it can save them from having to spring for a pricey liquor license – and often becomes a selling point in its own right.
Philadelphia, the City of BYO Love
Philadelphia is home to one of the most active bring-your-own scenes in the U.S., with over 200 restaurants that cater to it. Pioneers of the trend range from bistros to fine-dining establishments, such as Audrey Claire, Django and Gilmore's.
What accounts for its prevalence? Pennsylvania's stringent alcohol licensing laws are a major factor. Not only are licenses costly, but the state's Liquor Control Board is currently not issuing new ones (though owners can purchase existing licenses and have them transferred). Yet there are no laws prohibiting restaurant patrons from bringing their own bottle. Add in business-savvy chefs looking to draw budget-conscious diners – Philly folk still retain a touch of "blue-collar" mentality and "like to get value," according to Patrick Conway, CEO of the Pennsylvania Restaurant Association – and you have a rich terroir for BYO. The absence of a corkage fee at many of these places makes it even more attractive – so much so that many licensed restaurants have taken to offering corkage-free BYO nights.
The twist: Officially, those BYO wines are only legal if you buy them on Pennsylvania soil.
In NYC, BYO fans may unwittingly be engaging in an illicit activity.
Though the cost of obtaining a beer and wine license in New York City is relatively reasonable (less than $1,000 before legal fees), actually getting a license is no mean feat due to state Liquor Authority restrictions and community board concerns. Mark B. Stumer, an attorney who represents a number of New York restaurants, says that when owners' applications are rejected, "everyone thinks, 'ok, I could have people bring their own.'" Not so – at least not technically. BYO is illegal in New York City for restaurants without a license to serve beer and wine. (Licensed restaurants can legally allow BYO, but they may choose not to permit it.) Just ask Bob Giraldi and Jason Hennings, whose attempts to obtain a liquor license for European Union, the gastropub they hoped to open in the East Village this past spring, faced a number of stumbling blocks. After first being denied a license by the state, largely due to pressure from the Village community board, EU briefly operated as a BYO – until the authorities informed the owners the policy was illegal. The restaurant shut down in the interim, but following months of petitioning and negotiating with the board, it finally nabbed a beer and wine license and will reopen in September.
Though BYO crackdowns aren't the norm, they do happen. Nicky Perry, co-owner of the West Village British cafe Tea & Sympathy, says she let patrons bring their own for more than a decade, until she "got some stinking letter from the Liquor Authority" last year telling her to stop. "I was really shocked – it's ridiculous," Perry says. Her customers would surely raise a glass to that – if they could fill it.
The twist: Restaurants that seat fewer than 20 are permitted to offer BYO even without a beer and wine license.
In Boston proper, BYO's a no-go.
Puritan-inspired "blue laws" still have a grip on Beantown, which outlaws BYO in any establishment, licensed or not. But that doesn't hold true for all of Massachusetts. In several Boston suburbs, BYO is legal, but – as opposed to NYC – only in restaurants with no liquor license.
BYO turned out to be the charm for Sweet Basil, located in the primarily "dry" town of Needham. Six years ago, chef-owner Dave Becker tried and failed to get a license because his establishment didn't meet the requirement of seating at least 100. So he went the BYO route and today he says Sweet Basil "is known" for it. "People bring everything from two-buck Chuck to moldy treasures from the cellar," he notes. Even though Becker plans to expand to a space that would seat more than 100, he intends to keep his signature BYO policy rather than pursue a license.
The twist: It's common for patrons who've brought in rare vintages to offer tastes to the waiter and chef. In Massachusetts, however, that's illegal.
They'll pop your cork in Chicago – but don't expect them to pour.
A complex history involving Prohibition, corruption and a temperance-triggered run on liquor licenses has led to rules on licensing and serving alcohol in Chicago that are partly permissive, partly rigid and occasionally symbolic. It's legal to BYO to both licensed and unlicensed restaurants, and according to Gregory Steadman, general counsel of the City of Chicago Department of Business Affairs and Licensing, it's a growing trend. Yet while charging a corkage fee is legal, it is "discouraged," since any actions suggesting that an unlicensed establishment is profiting from alcohol sales could lead to an investigation. Too much handling of the wine can also raise the authorities' eyebrows. "The staff can provide glasses," he says, but "the customers should serve themselves."
The twist: BYO is only illegal during the approximately one-month period when a liquor license is pending.
Even when BYO is legal, restaurant owners nationwide can prohibit it – but just try that in San Francisco.
Plenty of San Franciscans like to BYO – it's legal in both licensed and unlicensed restaurants and is also widespread in nearby Napa Valley. But Craig Stoll, co-owner of SF's licensed and BYO-friendly Delfina, chose to prohibit BYO when he opened Pizzeria Delfina last year. "We wanted to sell the wine that we put the effort into having," explains Stoll, who built a cellar complete with temperature-control equipment to house his carefully chosen Southern Italian list. Just as it's not accepted for diners to "bring their own lamp to the table," says Stoll, he sought to preserve his "vision" for the restaurant, while keeping wine prices under $40. Stoll's move stirred up a fuss in the local press and on blogs, where the policy was criticized for going against the city's customer-first, "service industry" tradition.
"People have gotten used to [BYO]," Stoll notes. "It's the default policy and people don't like to be told 'no.'" While hoping not to alienate diners, he remains adamant about serving his selected wines, adding that he's heard from kindred restaurateurs who "swear they'll have the same policy."
Have it your way in the Big Easy.
Not only can you BYO to both licensed and unlicensed establishments in New Orleans, you can also quaff alcoholic drinks on the street (in "to-go" cups rather than glass containers). And where else can you find drive-thru daiquiri vendors? Still, the city has its standards – "open containers" in cars are a no-no, so it's illegal to serve those daiquiris with a straw.
Corkage-free nights are on the rise.
Corkage fees are charged by some restaurants to cover the costs of opening, serving and providing glassware for patron-supplied wines; they also help recoup some of the profits that would have been made from wine markups. Fees range from a nominal amount to as much as $85 at high-end, licensed restaurants. But a growing number of owners are offering corkage-free nights to drum up business.
Drew Nieporent instituted no-corkage-fee Mondays at his NYC bistro Montrachet in response to smaller crowds post-9/11 (the normal fee is $25 a bottle). The result: "Monday has become the busiest day of the week," says Nieporent, who offers a "bring one, buy one" no-corkage policy other nights. He notes that fee-free nights are especially popular with customers who have special wines that they want to enjoy "with special food." And the deals rarely take a significant bite out of profits because they help ensure that seats are filled and "eventually, big drinkers delve into your list." Buoyed by the success at Montrachet, Nieporent has introduced corkage-free Mondays at another of his NYC restaurants, Tribeca Grill.
Increasingly, diners can "BIH" (bring it home).
A number of states have passed so-called "Merlot-to-go" laws allowing patrons to take unfinished bottles of wine home, a move largely intended to discourage diners – many of whom might also be drivers – from over-indulging just to polish off a bottle. Rules associated with the law vary. New York State, for example, enacted such a law in 2004, permitting diners to remove bottles from restaurants only if they're resealed and placed in a tamper-proof, "one-time-use" transparent bag. Is the practice taking off? Charles Hunt, executive vice president of the New York State Restaurant Association, says that when the law passed, his organization sold batches of 250 bags to a number of restaurants. So far, he says, "Nobody's called to reorder."