Technically, it is not fair for me to write about a wine bar: I hate wine, don't drink it, don't know jack-dilly about it. It's also unfair for me to write about a wine bar in the Financial District: I don't work there, don't know Bo Diddley about investment banking, and I don't own any shoes that cost more than $100. Yet all these things beckoned me to Blanc et Rouge in the Embarcadero Center. I like being a fish out of water. I get a perverse rush walking into places like these, because I immediately feel underdressed, uncomfortable, homely, poor, and... More >>>