Get Your Drink On: Heart

C. Alburger

Only the predictably spare, wood-clad decor plays it safe.

The wood and concrete loft with requisite exposed bulbs and communal table might play it safe décor-wise, but with his wine program, Segal takes risks. "This is not a safe wine bar," he insists. Heart's wines are, in his words, visceral and raw, made with passion by small makers. What's more, Segal boldly strips the wine experience of its fancy accessories, serving wine in Mason jars unless drinkers request otherwise. The gesture has already met with protest. Yet a crowd sporting an exhausting array of Vans while looking at angular, amateur nude portraits makes way more sense with jars than with crystal stemware, doesn't it? And as Segal points out, winemakers and Europeans have been drinking grapes out of kitchen glasses forever. The Mason jar is merely his down-home American take.

But while catering to the PBR set, Siegel aims to raise the bar on wine. Even a relatively inexpensive bottle, like the $25 Le Petit Paysan Cabernet-Malbec-Petit Verdot blend ― is well made. Those who find a wine they like can purchase a bottle to take home.

Heart's Kitchenette-devised menu echoes Segal's insistence on quality without pretension at a feasible cost. The result is a distinctly farm-style collection of dishes with simple names, like Apples and Cheddar, clothbound cheddar pudding with apple-chicory salad ($8), and cider-braised Marin Sun Farms goat shank ($14). Lunch service began today.

Segal plans to offer regular wine tastings and classes, starting later this year. The gallery's rotation of art will change about every two months, with a reception to announce new shows, the wine reflecting its mood. Segal says Southern Italian reds with deep, dark undertones would match moody, violent art, for example. We get the picture. And frankly, we're a little scared.

Heart 1270 Valencia (at 23rd St.), 285-1200