To be fair, it’s probably not their fault. Addison carries with it the same pretention that uptown now does, but the city does it with broad strokes and deft swoops, like those of a master painter. It attracts the “thirty thousand dollar millionaires” like no other five square mile city in the area – never mind that it’s the only five square mile city in the area. So we have our base ingredient and then we begin adding bars to the mix. Finally, we add a wine focus to one of the bars and we are set.

The problem that I have is that the bartenders there are bartenders… and while their web page references their “Wine Guy” – Vincent, I have yet to meet him, nor have I any evidence he actually exists. Several times I’ve asked bartenders for recommendations and gotten mediocre expensive wines, or ones that didn’t really meet my expectations. For instance, last time I was there I was non-specific about which wine I wanted, specifying a mid-range, full bodied red on the dry side, expecting a Cabernet Sauvignon or Cabernet Franc. Instead, while I ended up with a red wine, it was light bodied, sweet, and very fruity – a pinot, probably, though I didn’t ask. It was good – but it wasn’t what I asked for, or really wanted. When I picked up the tab, I also found that in no way was it ‘mid-range.’

That may fly in Addison – hell, I know it does, I see it all the time. The bartenders mix top shelf without asking, put it on the tab, and of course our faux riche that crowd the bars on Friday night don’t want to make a scene about the $17 cocktail that should have been a $7 cocktail. Or in my case, an $8 glass of wine that is suddenly $20. I’m not going to argue too much about the wine, given the location, it was probably a $14 glass of wine that had a $6 ‘being seen’ fee tacked on, but if you’re pouring at a wine bar, you should know wine.

My second issue that makes things difficult is that while they have “100 wines by the glass” and “50 more in the bottle” – the regions they pick and choose from are exceptionally limited. The bar is in Texas, two shakes from grapevine, a hundred and eighty miles from the Hill Country AVA. Amongst all of the US wines on the list, I’d say 80-90% are from the west coast, specifically Napa County, Sonoma County, and Washington State. Suspiciously missing are Oregon and any south coast wines, and I don’t think I’ve seen anything from anything on the list east of there. The list of imports from Argentina and Chile is sub-par for a wine bar with that volume of supposed variety; focusing instead on French wines with a smattering of other euros for measure. I suppose this makes sense, given the “Wine Guy” I’ve never met is French, but it is disappointing. On the upside, they certainly have more world varietals than Dali does.

My final point is what makes it such a love/hate relationship. The wines they do carry tend to be good – very good, actually, and that’s something I really enjoy. I know that I can find something that won’t let me down, no matter what the style – but none of it is truly new or surprising. There’s nothing that pops out and says to me, “Hey, there’s no way you’ve tried something like this before!” and given my prior experiences with recommendations (the one I detailed was only one of a few) I’m leery of asking for something without any specifications at all.

For what it is, an overpriced, well stocked (but non-varied) wine bar, Mercy is great. It’s even better if you know what you want before you ever walk in the door. Oh, the kicker for me is that their fortified wine (that’s sherry and port) options are limited to just just three, with no LBV or reserve choices in the lot.

Reading back on this it sounds incredibly harsh, like I’m beating up on Mercy’s flaws, and I am – but it’s still a wonderful atmosphere, and perhaps I’ll cover the excellent food at a later date. However advertising yourself as a wine bar and then not having people behind that bar with a clear understanding of what they are serving seems like a very poor idea, and it certainly does not bode well for attracting wine enthusiasts. It seems simply to be capitalizing on the money and ego driven atmosphere of North Dallas while disregarding what could be a fine staple of customers.

For those who don’t know, I should preface this by saying I am generally a fan of drier wines. I like the mouth feel and the evaporation more, and I don’t really enjoy the lingering bouquet of sweet wines in my mouth. There are exceptions, of course, and I won’t limit myself because of it, but it is how my preferences lie.

Upon arrival, I asked for the barman to recommend me a Muscat or Muscato, and the recommendation came as the 2006 Il Conte D’Alba Moscato D’Asti. A sweet, sparkling wine, that was described as having peach overtones. My palate was fresh, and I’m going to honestly say that the nose had no peach on it, so I was hoping for a surprise. The mouth feel was solid; what one would expect from a sweet sparkling white, but the bouquet was disappointing. The peach (and perhaps something else, more floral but hidden) was submerged in a cloying clover-honey overtone. The entire glass was simply like sparkling-honey wine and reminded me more of a mead than a muscat normally should. At the end of the glass, my mouth felt as if it were coated with the sweetness. I went through a few crackers and about half a glass of water to cleanse my palate. I, personally, would not recommend this wine for most people and most purposes. Disappointing, truly – 2.5 corks out of 5, only an average wine.

Moving forward (and thinking forward to Father’s day) I asked for a recommendation for a Cabernet Franc. What I ended up with was the 2005 Alexander Valley Cab Franc, and after the disappointing first pick, I was looking for a way to improve my thoughts on Mercy’s stock, and I’ll say right now that the Alexander Valley Cabernet Franc was definitely a step up. The nose was quite nice, with a dry floral scent. I couldn’t identify it immediately, but possibly some sage and honeysuckle, but the latter could have just been the remnants of the lingering bouquet from the Muscato d’Asti. There was a lighter mouth feel than I expected, but it wasn’t bad, and there was the definite peppery taste that one comes to expect with Cabernet Francs. There were more discernible tannins than I would have hoped for, but in the end, as the wine was given a chance to really breathe, it mellowed quite a bit. I would give this 3.5 out of 5 corks, but my main thought on this is that it hardly warranted the $15 price point for the 6oz carafe.