Due to the current economy, bringing your own wine in a bottle (BYOB) and paying a reasonable “corkage fee” to the restaurant, or taking advantage of a “corkage free” night is gaining in popularity. Corkage BTW is the practice of charging clientele a fee for the privilege of bringing their own wines.
Use of the waiter’s corkscrew above is technically incorrect – but you get the idea w/ the $20 bill
This is an interesting and in a wine geeky context – “exciting” for wine lovers. A San Francisco restaurant that dropped their corkage from $20 to $5, noted “About 30 percent of those ‘corkage’ folks are just being frugal with inexpensive wines, but what is really cool is the amount of awesome wines the [other] 70 percent of people are bringing from their cellars. So at this point we are very happy with the balance.” I’d say that’s a really hip, with-it, restaurant owner to make such an encouraging statement!
Since Bill broached this BYOB issue this week, of bringing you own wine (BYOB) and even glasses (BYOG) it’s appropriate to share some suggested restaurant BYOB etiquette…
Policies vary with location but in San Diego, others have shared that ~95% of the restaurants charge corkage fees of $10 and $15. Many will waive one corkage if you buy a bottle from the restaurant list. Those that share with the staff (as suggested below) say corkage is often waived about 40% of the time… Currently, there is no definitive listing of local restaurants corkage policies but an enterprising wine blogger with the time an passion could compile one – unfortunately (or not) for me, I have to spent most of my time in the vineyard and winery.
Alcohol sales in some restaurants can account for 50% of the restaurant’s profit, while in smaller establishments it’s not worth the steep fees to get a liquor license. For example in Dallas Texas, small chef-owned restaurants often go BYOB to avoid alcoholic beverage license fees (typically a $15,000 expenditure – two years of fees, tax bond and legal assistance. With profit margins of small chef-owned establishments rarely topping 15 percent, you just can’t afford a liquor license.
Corkage fees have been controversial for as long as they have been around. I’m not thrilled about corkage fees but in fairness here’s some other perspectives on the issue:
Bartenders remark – “Would you allow people to bring in food or wine to your own restaurant and use your facilities for free? Well…no, right?”
Waiters and waitress feel the same. Drinks a big ticket item that greatly impact their tips (which greatly affect their income, tips that are more than their actual wages BTW), but the service that is provided to open the bottle and pour it, just like every other part of meal service, is something for which they’d like to be compensated.
Restaurant managers are also proponents of their corkage policy, combining a mixture of the two opinions above, as well as their own knowledge of the cost associated with purchasing and storing wine and wine expertise in the form of their wine service staff.
I’m sharing Four articles on “corkage” – Two on corkage etiquette. One is derived from a popular news feed and had a distinctly restaurant slant but it’s presented for discussion…. (and I’m sure there will be some!). Note this article bears a close similarity to a www.foodandwine.com article of July 2001 (“Corkage for Dummies“). Shared as Forth and last article below.
The Second is mentions some restaurants are offering corkage free nights to spur business in this recession – suggest this offering at your favorite restaurants
The Third discussed corkage experiences across the United States.
And Forth and last “Corkage for Dummies.”
So what do you think of the idea of BYOB and corkage fees?
To the below suggestions I’d add the recommendation – carry your wine in a insulated, protected wine carrier and don’t let the bottle get jostled on the drive to the restaurant – think gentle in all manners handling wine so you don’t dislodge any sediment or cause any undue agitation that would be detrimental to enjoying your personal wine selection.
==========================
A guide to BYOB etiquette
4/9/2009 The Associated Press
(AP) — The etiquette of bringing your own bottle of wine to your favorite restaurant:
CALL AHEAD: Find out before you go if the restaurant allows you to bring your own bottle and what the rules are there. Some may charge you a “corkage” fee to do so. Some restaurants will chill the wine for you, provide you with glasses and open and pour the bottle for you. Others expect you to bring your own corkscrew and glasses.
FIND OUT ABOUT FEES: Due to the recession, more restaurants are cutting back their corkage fees, which can range from $5 to $60 or more per bottle. Some restaurants are eliminating the fees on certain nights to draw in customers or are cutting the fee for just the first bottle. Be sure to ask when you call if you’ll have to pay a fee to bring your own. If you’re planning to bring more than one bottle, make sure to ask if that will trigger a fee.
BRING THE RIGHT BOTTLE: If the restaurant has a wine list but still allows you to bring your own, try to take a bottle that is not on the restaurant’s regular wine list.
OFFER A SIP: Most fine-dining restaurants employ a sommelier, or a wine steward, to procure wines and provide advice to customers. Restaurants with a sommelier consider it appropriate to offer him or her a taste of whatever wine you bring, as a courtesy.
TIP WELL: Restaurants, particularly higher-end establishments, request that customers who bring their own consider the cost of the wine or the corkage fee when calculating a tip. There are no definite guidelines, but a bigger tip will certainly be appreciated.
=======================
BYOB on rise at restaurants hit hard by recession
LAUREN SHEPHERD
AP Business Writer
NEW YORK (AP) – Bringing your own bottle of wine to your favorite restaurant is getting cheaper and more popular.
With sales and traffic dwindling, many restaurants are either offering BYOB nights or chopping the “corkage” fee to open bottles bought elsewhere, to entice more wine-drinking diners to pay for a meal out.
“My fiance and I are wine freaks, so we have been going to more BYOBs as a way to continue to drink great wine while not blowing our budget,” said Christopher McGrath, a 26-year old money market trader and liability manager who lives in Montclair, N.J. – where BYOB restaurants thrive since state law restricts the number of liquor licenses available.
The signs that bringing your own is on the rise are still largely anecdotal. Christina Preiss, a 27-year-old Chicago resident, said wait times at her favorite haunts that let customers bring their own are on the rise. More restaurants are also advertising special BYOB nights and more aggressively promoting the fee cuts.
Bringing your own beverages isn’t allowed everywhere – the rules vary depending on where you live.
But for eateries that can offer the option, it can be a way to boost traffic in tough economic times – especially for the fine-dining restaurants that have been hardest hit in recent months as even higher-income consumers cut back on pricey meals out.
Chris Cannon, owner of Manhattan restaurant Alto, decided at the end of last year to suspend a $60 corkage fee through September – a move he said has brought in more customers.
With sales and traffic dwindling, many restaurants are either offering BYOB nights or chopping the “corkage” fee to open bottles bought elsewhere, to entice more wine-drinking diners to pay for a meal out.
“My fiance and I are wine freaks, so we have been going to more BYOBs as a way to continue to drink great wine while not blowing our budget,” said Christopher McGrath, a 26-year old money market trader and liability manager who lives in Montclair, N.J. – where BYOB restaurants thrive since state law restricts the number of liquor licenses available.
The signs that bringing your own is on the rise are still largely anecdotal. Christina Preiss, a 27-year-old Chicago resident, said wait times at her favorite haunts that let customers bring their own are on the rise. More restaurants are also advertising special BYOB nights and more aggressively promoting the fee cuts.
Bringing your own beverages isn’t allowed everywhere – the rules vary depending on where you live.
But for eateries that can offer the option, it can be a way to boost traffic in tough economic times – especially for the fine-dining restaurants that have been hardest hit in recent months as even higher-income consumers cut back on pricey meals out.
Chris Cannon, owner of Manhattan restaurant Alto, decided at the end of last year to suspend a $60 corkage fee through September – a move he said has brought in more customers.
“Basically, we had to accept the fact that we were going through a recession,” Cannon said.
Although some restaurants include information about their policies on their Web sites, most expect customers to call to find out whether they can bring their own. Some cities require a restaurant to have a liquor license while others do not. Even in areas where a liquor license is technically required, the rules are not always enforced.
Bringing your own bottle may not have the cache of ordering off the list, where wines are sometimes paired with menu items to showcase the flavor of the food. But it can save you quite a bit of money. Restaurants frequently charge diners triple what they’ve paid for a wine. And David Henkes, vice president at Chicago-based food industry consulting firm Technomic Inc., said they typically charge as much for one glass as they paid for the entire bottle.
Most diners bring vino as their drink of choice, but some diners do tote their favorite beer to the table at more casual BYOB-friendly restaurants.
McGrath estimates he saves $50 at each meal from bringing his own wine.
In Portland, Ore., Italian restaurant Serratto in March stopped charging its $15 corkage fee on non-peak days if customers bring in a receipt from either of two local wine shops. Wines at Serratto range from $22 to more than $100 per bottle, while a sauvignon blanc can be had for $7.50 at Cork, a nearby shop. Manhattan’s Tribeca Grill, where bottles of wine start at $30 but can top $1,000, has eliminated its $20 corkage fee on Mondays.
Nick Valenti, chief executive of Patina Restaurant Group, waived the $5 corkage fees at all of his 15 California restaurants through 2009 except the flagship Patina in downtown LA.
“Given the time, we thought it would be an appropriate thank you to guests who are interested,” Valenti said. “Our job at the moment is to accommodate whatever they want.”
===============================
The Benefits of BYOB
F&W’s Lettie Teague, who often brings her own wine to restaurants, discovers that corkage fees can be as little as $10 or as much as $250. What is it worth to BYOB?
By Lettie Teague Feb 2008
A not-so-tasteful simulated animal skin wine purse (above)…
How much is too much? it’s not a question wine collectors ask very often—at least not the collectors
I know. Especially when the subject is corkage, the fee restaurants charge when you bring your own wine. Most of my friends don’t pay much for corkage, and often don’t pay anything at all. (That’s because their wines are world-class, and they always make sure to share them with the staff.) And yet they are willing to pay quite a lot for corkage. For example, when my friend The Collector (who usually brings his wines for free) brought several bottles to his favorite French restaurant a few months ago, they told him it would cost $250 per bottle the next time. The Collector said he would gladly pay. “It’s the best French restaurant in New York,” he reasoned, “and I want to drink my great wine with great food.” He would definitely return, he said… “someday.”
That got me thinking. When is a high corkage fee really worth paying? What could you get for $250 that you couldn’t for, say, $25? That’s the average cost of corkage nationwide (it’s about $10 more in New York City). I like to bring my own wines to restaurants every now and again—sometimes it’s because the wine list is overpriced and/or uninteresting, and sometimes (admittedly less often) it’s because I have a really good bottle and, like The Collector, I want to drink it with food that’s equally great.
Of course, there are plenty of places that don’t permit people to bring their own bottle—because they regard corkage as revenue lost (though $250 seems more like found money to me) or because it’s actually against the law.
Texas is one of a few states in which bringing your own wine to restaurants can be illegal, as I discovered when I was in Dallas recently. I’d called to make a reservation at Fearing’s, and when I asked about corkage, the hostess informed me it was not only illegal but perhaps even prohibited by the state’s Board of Health. “I think that might be a health-code violation,” she speculated. “I know we don’t allow outside food because of the health policy. It’s probably the same with outside wine.” Cabernet as contaminant? That was certainly a novel prohibitive cause.
In cities like San Francisco that are close to wine country, bringing wine to restaurants is the cultural norm, and woe to any restaurateur who decides otherwise. Consider the case of San Francisco chef and restaurant owner Craig Stoll, who banned people from bringing their own bottles to Pizzeria Delfina. His move provoked a passionate outcry; indeed, the city’s residents responded as if Stoll had violated some civic code. The San Francisco Chronicle ran a half page of letters from readers about Stoll’s decision, with several writers denouncing his policy—though others actually defended it.
But even in San Francisco, corkage can come with conditions attached. For example, at one of the city’s top restaurants, Michael Mina, the corkage policy is $35 per bottle with a two-bottle limit, plus the stipulation that the wine can’t be one on the house list. This last rule might seem unnecessary, though, considering the wines that some diners have brought. According to Mark Bright, a former Michael Mina sommelier, “People would bring $10 bottles that they had just bought in the liquor store down the street.” Bright described what he said was a typical scene: A couple would be seated and handed the wine list. The man (it was always the man) would scan the list, then abruptly depart, only to return a bit later with a cheap bottle of wine. And it wasn’t as if there weren’t higher-quality, affordable alternatives to be found. As Bright said, “We had plenty of wines for around $35 that were better than most of the wines they brought.”
People toting cheap bottles is the biggest complaint about corkage among sommeliers. Second comes collectors who demand lots of attention and glassware for their wines. “We’d have collectors bring an entire bag of wines and demand different glasses for each one,” recalled Mark Slater at Citronelle in Washington, DC. Now Slater doesn’t allow anyone to bring wine at all, though he concedes his is one of the few anti-corkage places in town. “Most DC restaurants allow it and charge $20 or $30 a bottle,” said Slater. “But we own half-a-million dollars’ worth of wine.”
If you bring a bottle of American wine to Charlie Palmer’s DC steak house, the corkage is free; international wine, however, will run you $25 per bottle. Alas, Palmer isn’t as patriotic elsewhere. At his restaurant Aureole in New York City, for example, corkage costs $50 a bottle. “Even for American wine?” I asked Wilma Luciano, Aureole’s reservationist. “Yes,” said Wilma, clearly wondering what I had in mind. “But at Charlie Palmer Steak, American wine is free,” I protested. “That’s kind of eccentric,” Wilma replied.
Aside from a waiter willing to open and pour from a bottle, what other services can one expect to come with a corkage fee? And what does a place with pricey corkage provide that one with cheap corkage does not? I decided to try three different New York City restaurants, each with a different “level” of corkage, to see if more money meant a commensurately better time.
My cheap-corkage experiment took place at Metro Marché, a brasserie located in the Port Authority Bus Terminal. The restaurant is more attractive than its address might suggest, the food is surprisingly good—and the corkage fee is one of the cheapest in town: $10 a bottle.
I brought a very good bottle (as I did every time), and the waiter seemed quite pleased by the label: 2005 Christian Moreau Les Clos Chablis Grand Cru. “A grand cru,” he remarked excitedly. “That must be good.” I assured him it was and offered him a taste. “The 2005 vintage was a great one for Chablis,” I said, “And Moreau is considered a leading producer.” We both admired the intense, minerally white, though I thought it was still a bit young. (A grand cru Chablis can take years to develop.) The waiter nodded and promptly finished his glass.
The wine was also a great match with the food, especially the crab cakes. Did other people ever bring their own wine? “You might be the first,” the waiter replied. I found it hard to believe that no one else had packed a bottle—not just because the corkage was so cheap, but because just about everyone in the restaurant had some kind of luggage parked at their feet.
The corkage fee at my next stop, L’Impero near East 43rd Street, was a bit above average: $45 per bottle. According to wine director and partner Chris Cannon, bottle-laden diners caused him to raise the fee. “When our corkage was $15, the dining room was full of people with bags of wine,” he said. Now, each party is allowed a single bottle. “And I get to taste the wine,” Cannon added. “That’s another rule.”
Cannon’s list features many quirky Italian wines, so I brought something I thought he’d find interesting: a 2000 Valentini Trebbiano, from Abruzzo. Edoardo Valentini was the acknowledged master of the mundane Trebbiano (he passed away nearly two years ago); in fact, he was perhaps the only man capable of making a great wine from this grape. (His wine has been compared to a grand cru Chablis, though it’s really unlike any other wine I’ve ever had: rich and nuanced, with a penetrating finish.) It costs about $85 and is quite rare. Cannon tasted it and proclaimed, “It’s just as it should be.” (Which was high praise from him.)
Certainly the wine list at L’Impero was more sophisticated than the one at Metro Marché, and the glassware and food were a step up as well; my gnocchi with wild mushrooms was particularly superb. In fact, the experience was definitely worth an additional $35—so much so that I thought my friend The Collector might even consider making it one of his regular haunts. He would save more than $200 on corkage, though he wouldn’t like the one-bottle limit.
My corkage experiment had been quite positive so far; the fees had been reasonable and no one had seemed anything but pleased to see my bottle and me. But how would I be received at Jean Georges? After all, Jean Georges is a four-star restaurant with a pricey wine list and a rather steep corkage fee ($85), which seemed designed to discourage people from bringing wine. With that in mind, I brought one of my very best bottles: a 1990 Dom Pérignon rosé. It’s a remarkable wine, and it’s quite hard to find. Indeed, according to Jean Georges’s wine director, Bernie Sun, this particular DP rosé is just about impossible to buy and would cost $800 to $900 on his list—if he could get it.
Jean Georges turned out to be my best experience. The food and the wine service were both equally great. Our waiter not only happily accepted my bottle but noted it was “a few degrees too warm” and immediately plunged it into a bucket of ice. In fact, he paid such careful attention, I began to think it was a $900 wine. It even tasted that good. Bernie, who stopped by for a glass, agreed. “It’s a privilege when someone brings in a great bottle,” he said graciously.
Nadine Brown, the wine director at Charlie Palmer Steak, had said much the same thing. In fact, she told me that she often makes great discoveries when diners bring their own wine to the restaurant: “I tasted Red Truck Pinot Noir for the first time when a customer brought in a bottle,” she said. “And I have been trying to get on the Red Truck mailing list ever since.”
From $10 for Chablis at a bus-station brasserie to $85 for world-class Champagne, each one of my corkage experiences had been a great deal. I always felt welcome, and the food and service had been worth much more than what I paid. I (still) don’t know what a $250 corkage can deliver, but I’m hoping to find out; perhaps The Collector will ask me to accompany him when he returns to his favorite French restaurant, “someday.”
===========================
Corkage for Dummies
Wine editor Lettie Teague tells how to bring your own bottle to a restaurant without feeling embarrassed or annoying the sommelier.
By Lettie Teague
Caption: Of course, I WILL have to charge you a corkage fee Monsieur…
While I would never think of lugging my own linens to a restaurant or supplying my own stemware, I have been known to bring along a bottle of my own wine. In fact, I’ll go out of my way to patronize a place with a friendly corkage policy. (Corkage is what restaurateurs call what they charge to open and serve your wine.)
It’s not that I’m cheap (although I’ll admit I take a 400 percent markup on Pinot Grigio more personally than most) or that I don’t respect the hard work (and money) that goes into making a great wine list. It’s just that sometimes I want to drink one of the hundreds of wines gathering dust in my basement with a meal that isn’t homemade no offense to my husband, the family chef. Add special occasions like birthdays and dinners with our friend The Collector (a lawyer who pulls bottles of La Mouline from his pockets the way others do mints) and I’d guess I bring wine to restaurants about three times a month.
I know that BYOB isn’t something most restaurants are fond of, and I’m sure it’s something their accountants don’t approve of after all, food can be marked up 40 percent on average, while wines can be marked up 10 times that. No doubt that’s why so many New York restaurateurs tell customers it’s “illegal” to bring their own wine. (It’s not, though it is in some other states.) Some may charge a high fee (in part to discourage the practice), some just a little (enough to cover the dishwasher’s time), but in either case, corkage is generally meant as a courtesy for customers looking to savor a special bottle.
Unfortunately, this isn’t often what customers do. Instead, people will bring bad wine or argue over the fee making many restaurateurs reluctant to extend the privilege. And, mind you, being able to bring your own bottle is a privilege. So, in the hope of fostering better corkage relations, I’ve compiled a list of rules to follow when setting out with your bottle in a shopping bag (or, as in the case of The Collector, a leather case so large it could put a symphony cellist to shame).
RULE #1: Call the restaurant.
I’d never just show up with my bottle, unannounced. Although this sounds obvious, it’s often ignored. Rajat Parr, the sommelier at San Francisco’s Fifth Floor, has had customers arrive with as many as eight bottles. (Think of all that glassware!)
RULE #2: Inquire about the fee.
Make it known you’re not looking to get something for free. In Manhattan corkage averages $15 to $20 a bottle, more at posh places like Union Pacific ($30) and Jean Georges ($85, a bargain compared to its wine prices). In any case, corkage doesn’t necessarily mean you’ll come away cheaply; a few friends of mine brought several great Burgundies to New York’s Chanterelle and ended up spending over $400 in corkage alone. But everyone was happy; the restaurant let them drink their wines and they got to enjoy them with some pretty spectacular food.
Outside New York, corkage is more accepted, though not always cheaper. In Napa Valley, it can range from $15 a bottle (Meadowood Resort) to $50 (The French Laundry). Fees seem lowest in San Francisco and Los Angeles on average, $10 to $12. Some restaurants even hold corkage-free days. On Sundays, La Cachette in Los Angeles allows customers to bring in as many wines as they want. While this has proven incredibly popular, La Cachette’s proprietor, Jean-François Meteigner, says it hasn’t hurt his wine sales the rest of the week. However, he admits to being baffled by the idea: “As a Frenchman, I really don’t understand why you would bring your own wine to a restaurant in the first place.”
The most interesting corkage policy I’ve found is practiced by Il Mulino in Manhattan. When I called to inquire as to their fee, I was informed it depended on my wine. Tony, I was told, would talk it over with me. I told Tony I was thinking of bringing a 1997 Gaja Barbaresco. “That’ll be $60,” Tony said. “What about a basic Chianti?” Tony’s reply rang like a cash register: “$50.” I imagined Tony consulting an enormous chart with dollar amounts chalked in next to thousands of wines. I wanted to keep going: 1961 Château Latour? 1985 Sassicaia? But Tony didn’t. He didn’t care about my wine. I wasn’t getting in: Il Mulino was booked solid for months.
RULE #3: Never bring a cheap wine.
Or at least not one that costs less than the least expensive bottle on the list. My favorite (sommelier-less) Indian restaurant, the Bengal Tiger in White Plains, New York, has a corkage policy that addresses this nicely: It charges $15 the same as its least expensive wine. Some restaurants request that customers only bring wines that aren’t on their lists. However, as Joseph Miglione, the sommelier at Ray’s Boathouse in Seattle, has discovered, this directive can backfire. He’s had diners arrive with screw-top magnums and bottles with grocery-store tags still stuck to the sides. Yet, as Miglione was forced to admit, not one of these was on his list.
Miglione, however, is adamant about how much he loves people who bring great wines a sentiment echoed by every sommelier I spoke to. Fred Price of Union Pacific agrees, noting, “It’s an honor.”
RULE #4: Always offer the sommelier a taste.
He or she may or may not accept (they always do when I’m with The Collector) but it’s a sign of respect and a show of camaraderie. Since you’ve shunned the sommelier’s selections in favor of your own, it’s the least you can do. Rajat Parr ruefully recalls the time when “Someone brought in a La Tâche and didn’t offer me a taste.”
RULE #5: Buy at least one bottle, preferably one for every bottle you bring.
Granted, in some places it’s impossible (my favorite Chinese restaurant does its beverage business exclusively in Budweiser), but at places that do have a list you like (or where you want to be welcomed again) you should do so. You’ll look like a sport and you might even find the corkage waived, as Cole’s Chop House in Napa does.
Considering how much I eat out, I don’t bring wines to restaurants that often. Sometimes it’s easier not to do all the work: calling, carrying, negotiating (always necessary in New York). And with so many great sommeliers out there, it can be more fun to try the wines they’ve discovered.
There is, however, one place where I wish I could always bring wine: weddings. Some of the worst wines of my life have been served by just-married friends. (A certain Brazilian Merlot will not fade from memory.) Why is it that the same people who’ll spend a fortune on flowers want a wine that costs under $5? If they’d allow me to bring my own wine, I’d happily pay a Jean Georgessize fee I’d even bring a bottle for the bride and groom.
