Venue Spotlight: Poco Wine Room

By Doug Haugen

Walking up the sidewalk toward Poco Wine Room on Capitol Hill, you approach a clean if unassuming storefront among others along the strip. But, stepping inside Poco, you feel like you’re about to share a bottle with Frank Lloyd Wright. Postmodern interior architecture combining metal and wood in clean aesthetic strokes provides an amalgam of swank and hominess—enough of one to get you take your coat off and stay awhile, and enough of the other to keep you from taking off your shoes and putting your feet up on the table.

While occupying a small footprint on the block (“Poco” is Spanish for “small”), the space reminds me of Nick Bantock’s book Museum at Purgatory, in which, by some mystic defiance of physics, a small art museum’s interior space is infinitely expandable within the walls of a finite, diminutive building. Not only does Poco not feel cramped, but there is additional space in an ostensibly expansive mezzanine with leather loveseats around a coffee table, and a long row of more traditional table seating.

While occupying such trig digs, it would be easy for Poco to don airs of superiority and cater exclusively to the mod set, but it just ain’t so. The cats at Poco, through clear vision, scrupulous planning and a skosh of alchemy, have managed to effect the laid-back vibe of a posh local watering hole. The lines blur between staff and patron; while courteous and professional, you get the sense that you’re simply hanging out with the employees of Poco, and that on any given night, if they weren’t on one side of the bar, they’d be on the other. I left my first visit to Poco feeling like a regular.

Peter Moore, co-owner of Poco Wine Room, told me “After having a long day working behind the scenes, and then having to ‘get on stage’ working in the evenings…I have the most fun with the customers. I appreciate people coming here to have a good time.” Bart Reynolds, co-owner, added “If we could pour wine for free, we’d be much happier.”

The Greek philosopher Heraclitus wrote that you can never step into the same river twice (change being central to the universe and all); and unless you visit Poco every day (which wouldn’t be unadvisable), the same is true of Poco’s wine selection. At other local venues where I am a bona fide, card-carrying regular, I don’t even need to look at the menu; but each visit to Poco requires at least a glance, because the wine list is in a constant state of flux.

I once asked Peter how he chooses his wines. Clearly a part of the Poco philosophy, he riffed at length about what a “Poco Wine” is. “We serve the wine you’d serve good friends at a good party,” he told me. While he’s meticulous in choosing wines, he doesn’t want anything that requires a customer to be overly cerebral to enjoy, “We’re not here to educate; wine shouldn’t distract from who you’re with.” That distraction, however, is not always easily avoidable. For example, the last time we hung out at Poco, we shared a bottle of Darby Winery’s Cab Sauv, which at regular intervals caused an interruption of conversation with, “Daaaamn…”

If you’re looking for some grub, Poco also has an impressive menu. On one visit, at the insistence of another wino sitting at the bar (“Here, you have to try this!”), I tasted some rich chocolate lava cake, which paired incredibly with the Syncline Mourvèdre I was drinking. There are plenty of other chef-prepared small plates to accompany your wine, and a Sunday-only menu (Poco is now open on Sundays!) to complement the all-day happy hour.

One of my favorite things about wine venues is the ability to strike up innocuous but interesting conversations with other customers, something you don’t see at many bars. By perfecting a balancing act worthy of Cirque du Soliel between food, wine and atmosphere, Poco has taken it to the next level and achieved an ambiance that precipitates conversation and camaraderie. Hats off to Poco for giving Capitol Hill, moreso Seattle, a small place to go for a big experience.