"At Winona’s, another wine bar and restaurant (plus café by day), on the northernmost edge of Bed-Stuy, the wine list, which spans a full five and a half pages and includes a dozen-odd magnums, is entirely free of description. Start with a mixed drink from the appealing lineup of cocktails—a smooth twist on a dirty Martini is made with both olive-oil-washed gin and a glug of Castelvetrano olive oil—as liquid courage to ask for a recommendation. On a recent evening, a vague request—“Something weird?”—was met with gusto. “Are you scared of a little sugar?” the sommelier asked, with a hint of mischief. “It’s really well integrated. Does it scare you?” Au contraire: the gentle threat was thrilling, and the wine, a pét-nat rosé, proved not only delicious—tutti-frutti yet yeasty and tart, effervescent, adult-popsicle vibes—but also very beautiful, a translucent shade of raspberry that caught the eye of the couple at the neighboring table, who pointed at it inquisitively as they placed their order. Though the food menu veers ambitious, the best dishes are the most straightforward. A flawless Scotch egg—half of the couple who opened the place is British—is served with sharp mustard and cornichons. Grilled prawns, their funky, creamy heads intact, are propped up by glossy strips of smoked sweet pepper and torn olives and finished with flat-leaf parsley. A Spanish tortilla’s sturdy, browned edges belie its silky, supple interior—as unassuming and unexpected as Winona’s itself, whose wood-panelled façade is easy to miss on a building that once housed an industrial-refrigerator supplier, for which it still bears an enormous sign: “Old Reliable Store Fixtures.”" - Hannah Goldfield