What Is a Pudding Stone?

In the wine industry, pudding stones are smooth, rounded stones that are brought together in large slabs to cover the floor of a vineyard. Pudding stones retain heat, and their ability to warm a vineyard’s fruit and soils makes them a valuable asset to a vintner. On the Upper East Side, however, pudding stones make a valuable asset for another reason altogether—they’ve lent their name to a fairly new wine bar that brings fine wine and gourmet cuisine to the neighborhood.

Located on 3rd Avenue between 82nd and 83rd Streets, Pudding Stones offers a classier alternative to its slightly rowdy and more casual neighbors (Gael Pub, Wicker Park, etc.). Its cool, dark, and very sparse interior has the feel of a trendy wine cellar, with a plush banquette lining one wall and a long and spacious bar wrapped around the other. When I arrived the other night, slightly ahead of the friend I was meeting for drinks, I took a seat at a small table right next to the set of wide doors that opened on to the street, and was promptly greeted by a waitress with a glass of water and a stack of menus.

Minutes later, I was still trying to process the wine menu, which was pages longer than the food menu, when my friend Cari arrived. Though the wine menu offered several options, including tasting flights, full bottles, and half bottles, we decided to order single glasses—a South African Sauvignon Blanc for me, a Long Island Merlot for Cari—before tackling the food menu.

Featuring an extensive list of appetizers such as oysters with champagne vinaigrette, tuna tartar with chopped fennel, and a roasted beet and goat cheese salad, plus sumptuous-sounding entrées like a petite filet mignon with green peppercorn sauce and French beans, pan seared sea scallops in an avocado and tomato puree, and a burger with aioli sauce, comte cheese, and sautéed onions, the menu was no small feat. Not quite hungry enough for a full meal, Cari and I decided to share the hummus appetizer, which was made with dried chilies and olive oil and came with warm triangles of pita bread.

In the meantime, our glasses of wine arrived. We swirled, sniffed, then sipped, and were impressed with our selections, as well as the Riedel stemware they arrived in. Very classy. Our hummus came soon after, and we both agreed that it was quite possibly the best we’d ever had. Smooth, creamy, and luscious, accented with a dab of some sort of spicy barbecue-like sauce right in the middle, it was absolutely delicious, and we made sure to ask for another basket of pita bread so that we could wipe up every last bit.

Though the ladies’ room was on the first floor, behind an unmarked door, I made my way downstairs in search of it and was surprised to find a cozy candlelit lounge that also served as a wine cellar. A charming space even more dimly lit than the first floor, it was also more intimate, and I made a note to myself to remember that it was there the next time I was asked to recommend a good date spot.

As we chatted over the remains of our wine, with only a low jazz soundtrack and the faint hum of the six or seven other patrons at nearby tables, Cari and I were pleased with our selection, and she, a resident of the Upper West Side, left eager to try Pudding Stones’ UWS location as well.

Meanwhile, I left glad to have learned what a pudding stone is—and to know that one can be found on the UES.