here is a certain gentility to be found at Uva, Vancouver’s newest wine bar. Located in the lobby of Moda Hotel on Seymour Street, the 38-seat space was recently renovated in an-old-world-Vienna-meets -North-America fashion. Read – lots of crisp whites, deep browns, granite, and gilded mirrors set on a century old floor so pretty it makes the cracks look whimsical. Created by Jonathan, a Vancouver designer with (apparently) no last name, Uva is a sure thing for those with a flexible drinking palate.

This is not a place to expect monosyllabic martinis, and I advise practicing the names prior to ordering to avoid butchering the Uva language. Take the Sicilian Metropolitiana for example - this bright little drink made with Absolute Kurant, cointreau and lemon juice, shaken cold with Sicilian blood orange juice and finished with flamed orange zest was a perfect Tuesday topper. Actually, everyone should greet the advent of hump day with one.

Other martinis on the list included the Tiramissuva, made with bar manager Dave Yates’ own chocolate vodka, and a dash of mint, vanilla, espresso and cointreau. The vodka alone deserves an article, but for now let’s just say it comes highly recommended. It’s the kind of stuff you could pour on ice cream, or nipples, and would still hold its own.

On the short drink list the Cachabrancha, or Diavolo Rosso are mouth watering, if slightly pretentious in moniker. If “frilly” drinks aren’t your style, a well-planned wine and beer list should stir the sundown tingles. If you’re feeling extra adventurous, or maybe because I dare you - skip the new and old world wines, bypass the well-stocked European and Canadian pale ales, lagers, and pilsners, and go straight for the botrytis affected wines like the Monchhof Trockenbeerenauslese. Affected, indeed.

To compliment the wet, a small menu of finger food is available and don’t feel guilty using your digits in such a nice joint. After taking a stab at one of the marinated olives with the toothpick provided and losing it to the nether regions below my bar stool, I decided to go with the tested and true cavewoman approach. Everyone else made it out of the dish without mishap and I didn’t get any dirty looks.