The silly season: dining outdoors and wine

I was walking to the train station the other day up Quince Street and I noticed the return of outdoor tables to local establishments as the weather has taken a decisive turn for the warmer. OK, that’s nice.

I especially noticed one establishment that was offering a row of outdoor tables that ended within 15 feet of its dumpster, quite obviously in olfactory range. And people were sitting there. J’amaze. I guess it was because all the other outdoor tables were taken at this place.

I like sitting outside on a nice day as much as anyone, but not next to a pile of trash.

And then I turn the corner, and I see several places with outdoor tables – these are not ‘sidewalk cafes’ – so close to Walnut Street (a main thoroughfare) that they are well-positioned to take in all the bus and truck exhaust. Wow, yummy!

And it’s not just aromas and gases that pose problems.

Last summer I was in TriBeCa with a friend of mine and we decided to try a newish French place, Le Cercle Rouge. It was a hot night in Manhattan, and while the street outside the restaurant is generally quiet, limiting the exhaust factor, the sidewalk and gutter still offered that dampish, sweetly sickening stench that is city pavement having been roasted by the August sun. Did I mention it was hot, and humid? No breeze. Walking around outside was miserable. Sitting outside in the damp, stinking, smothering broth passing for air in TriBeCa would be miserable, let alone dining while doing so. You’d taste more sweat than sweet. It was hot. Even if the street had smelled like lavender, it was hot.

But the restaurant’s outside tables were jammed; you’d be a overbaked, smelly sardine to boot. Our request to sit inside was met with incomprehension by the hostess, but she decided to indulge us. Inside, it was cool and pleasant and we had a fine, leisurely meal with a lovely bottle of (I think) Sancerre. It would have been grotesquely uncomfortable outside. Yet 90 percent of the customers were there.

I don’t get it.

We have turned sitting outside into a fetish, one that denies pleasure rather than gives it, and surely detracts from the dining or the wine. Can you imagine trying to enjoy a delicate, light wine, like many roses or a Loire white, while being assaulted by SEPTA spewings or eau du Dumpster? Even Bordeaux’s potent aroma will be overwhelmed. Some diesel ash on your pasta, sir?

Most places that have outdoor tables simply do not have enough room between the tables and street to provide separation from car and bus gases (much less the occasional foul-smelling bum wandering by and begging). There are very few genuine sidewalk cafes in American cities, cafes where the tables are far distant from the street (Maison in midtown Manhattan is one that fits the description, though I’d not recommend dining there as the food is lackluster) to ensure dining pleasure. Compare the average place in Philadelphia with outdoor tables to the real thing in Paris, Bruges or Brussels. (I should add that if all you are doing is drinking coffee, or a beer, this is much less an issue.)

Even if a restaurant has a nicely sheltered café, or, even better, a back garden, if it’s too hot, take a pass. Enjoyment will be hard when you’re damp to the skin with sweat.

None of these scenarios is ideal for wine. But since I suspect people will still dine outside even if it’s 95 degrees and a trash truck – “perfume wagon,” stealing a friend’s phrase – is stalled 10 feet away with a diesel fire under its hood, here’s some tips to maximize pleasure from wine while dining outside:

First and foremost, make sure the wine is at the right temperature. If it’s really hot, ask for an ice bucket, even with a red, and let the wine warm in your glass. Those ice-less coolers can be good if the wine is cold enough to start with. Or have the bartender keep your wine where the temperature will be more temperate and have it served by the glass. If your rose or white gets too warm, re-chill it. I cringe at people putting ice cubes in wine but as a last resort, with basic roses or whites, OK.

Second, stay away from subtle wines. Things like a delicate Saar Riesling, a gentle Viognier, a light Savoie, even Champagne such as Taittinger will all be trampled by the competing smells and flavors outside. Go for wines with gusto: big-bodied roses, white such as Cotes du Rhone white, Argentine Torrontes, New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs, Spanish whites, cava, even some Pennsylvania or New York vidal blanc. Reds like Gigondas, Rueda, Portuguese reds, Madiran, California syrah, Uruguyan tannat, South African Pinotage, Beaujolais maybe.

Third, make sure you have the water of your choice on the table and hydrate with that, not the wine.

Fourth, pay special attention to the food, and remember anything delicate will not taste the same amid the smells and such outside. There’s a reason sausages taste so good in the summer.