When you picture an AI-generated Parisian wine bar, Aux Deux Amis is what comes to mind: diffuse lighting, mirrored walls lined in bright red, an outstretched awning over bistro tables (everything dusted with a patina of age and wear that AI could never achieve, of course). The name translates to “between two friends”—while, in reality, the energy inside is more akin to “between 16 friends.” Inevitably, you’ll rub elbows with someone who wants to know what you’re drinking, or wants to pour you what they’re drinking.

On any given night, the place is stuffed with a bustling array of folks seated at the bar’s vinyl stools, crowding around tables or packed into the available standing room in between. The bartenders will remember you if you come back often enough—and they’ll happily walk you through anything on the lengthy wine list in the brusque but informed way of the French. All the while, you can munch on easy plates of sardines, saucisson and chicken liver.

Nice to know: On weekends, the place is often open (and bustling) until 2 a.m. If you’re coming after midnight, don’t expect a seat; the vibe is strictly standing-room.

Open for over 15 years now, Le Barav (short for bar à vin… in the way Soho is short for South of Houston) has the distinct feel of a true Marais neighborhood haunt. In the summer, it offers an impressive collection of outdoor tables, and while perhaps overplayed as a date destination, all clichés are clichés for a reason. Folks can purchase 6-euro glasses at the bar, or retail bottles at the cave just next door; plates are no-fuss olive/cheese dishes (an objectionable adjective but a correct one nonetheless); and the ambiance is eternally lively and easygoing. The adjacent cave offers an extensive bottle selection with a cellar of back-vintages. Even for folks who are here to drink rather than intellectualize the wine, Le Barav lacks a holier-than-thou, Wine Person ethos. 

Nice to know: No need to make a reservation, but do your best to arrive early if you’re looking to claim patio seating. And while there are plenty of great bottle options at the cave next door, don’t sleep on the by-the-glass list.

This is a local spot, certainly. You won’t often find folks chatting here in English (though the bartenders will still be kind even if you do not order in French), and in warmer months, you’ll see patrons crowded jovially outside, smoking and sitting on stoops or gathered around upright barrels, enjoying bottles (often several) along the sidewalk.

At the long, narrow, standing-room bar, the roster of largely natural bottles shifts frequently, and patrons can make their selections—all of which are still priced to allow folks to drink Burgundy for less than 40 euros—from the high, towering shelves that circle the entirety of the space. Go in armed with an idea of what you’d like to drink, and the staff will pull options enthusiastically until you’ve stumbled upon your perfect bottle.

Nice to know: The food menu boasts things like briny oysters with house mignonette, salted chocolate ganache and outstanding tomato and peach salad come summertime; it all feels impossibly gourmet for the size and austerity of the kitchen.

For lack of a better phrase, La Buvette does indeed feel like the world’s best-curated “hole in the wall,” if only for the dimensions of the petite spot. The bar holds just four tiny tables—as well as three stools nestled up against the white marble bar, behind which a small prep kitchen is tucked away. Floating shelves showcasing an array of specialty bottles are mounted on the white-tiled walls, offset by towering mirrors where by-the-glass specials and food items are scrawled daily in white marker. 

As for food, “small plates” hardly does justice to the menu, which may include items like herbed baby octopus or a hearty wedge of blue cheese with bruléed nectarine—all of which are way better than they need to be.

Nice to know: It’s likely that you’ll find the owner, Camille Fourmont, behind the bar, prepared to guide you adeptly through the natural-leaning wine menu—which is lengthy but not exhaustive in nature.

This corner Belleville spot calls itself a “bar de quartier”—a neighborhood bar. And that is precisely the ethos it radiates. Recently passed from the original, beloved owner to serial bar and bistro impresario Florent Ciccoli (Café du Coin, Recoin, Jones), the place still emanates old school, local charm—but with a fun, updated natural wine list and roster of small (or not-so-small) bites. Behind the old, zinc-plated bar, you’ll find food and by-the-glass specials on a chalkboard: At lunch time or apero hour, enjoy oeufs mayos and memorably tasty anchovies, or opt for more full-on mains (think curried veal) in the evening. And while the food here is no joke, the spot—which also serves cocktails—is still lauded as a liquid destination, where folks can drink wines for less than 8 euros and beers for less than 4 until 2 a.m. on weekends.

Nice to know: To the left of the bar, look for the door to an old glass-paneled telephone booth. Inside, you’ll find neither a rotary phone nor a portal to Narnia. Instead: a tower of vertical wine shelves, each of them packed to the point of concern, worthy of your perusal.

Ambiance at Le Vin au Vert isn’t flashy, exactly—and it doesn’t need to be. Stationed in the 9th, the place has a sexy wine list full of small-scale Champagne producers and allocated bottles at prices that certainly do justice to the arrondissement—which is not nearly as sceney or overrun with upscale bars and restaurants as, say, the Marais. The food consists of basic proteins and cheese plates, and the ambiance is reserved and well-curated in its simplicity, all of which is fine because you’re here for the wine. And in spite of the brag-worthy bottle selection, the venue remains utterly void of pretension.

Nice to know: Not only will the staff willingly allow you to sit and drink without bothering to dine (not always the case with your standard cave à manger), but you’re guaranteed to drink something memorable at an unreasonably reasonable price.

Delicatessen is about as close as you can get to drinking in someone’s living room without being in someone’s living room. Stationed right next to Delicatessen Cave (a sprawling wine shop with an incredible and notably expansive selection of natural wine), the Place hosts a handful of high-top tables with one communal barrel at the center, like a nucleus. While the “place” serves BTG pours, folks are encouraged to head to the cave and browse for the bottle of their choosing before bringing it back next door, where the staff will provide glassware and a wine key. Francophile drinkers will find countless well-priced bottles from the Jura, Beaujolais, Alsace, even Auvergne, the likes of which are tough to locate in the States. And no matter the weather, you’ll find throngs of folks perched near the window ledge outside, downing bottles and smoking hand-rolled cigarettes around ashtrays made of old scallop shells. 

Nice to know: A rotating chalkboard menu lists generously portioned cheese plates, seasonal vegetables and grain salads, which are prepped on a hot plate or at the bar itself. Keep in mind that Delicatessen closes on the earlier side, but you can head to Martin just up the street once they stop serving.

Unlike so many caves and French wine bars, Le Dénicheur does not strive for subtlety or minimalism. Lined with red banquettes and a mosaic of bright, clashing floor tiles, the ultra petite spot stationed in Les Halles is just as eccentric and intentional with its wine list as it is its décor. Open until 2 a.m. most days of the week, this is your go-to place for loud, high-octane natural bottles from Roussillon and Sicily, served with fresh cucumber salad or a decadent ricotta spread. On any given night, you’ll find at least a dozen wines available by the glass, likely served by owners Etienne and Jules, both of whom are passionate enthusiasts on the subject of out-there, avant-garde bottles.

Nice to know: Le Dénicheur is open on Sundays, and late (a true rarity in Paris), so if you’re desperate for a grand finale to close out your weekend, this is your spot.

It’s easy to feel like a regular at Chambre Noire. Located just up the street from the Canal Saint-Martin, the place offers an impressive roster of outdoor bistro tables for summer imbibing, with plenty of indoor seating, as well. All four walls of the venue are plated with floor-to-ceiling shelves lined with bottles priced in white chalk… which means that, in the process of selecting your bottle, you’ll find yourself leaning improbably over several other folks’ tables—all of whom will no longer feel like strangers in a matter of minutes. It’s the sort of low-maintenance, easy place you’ll want to return to with frequency—and it’s the sort of staff who will remember your name, and what kind of reds you like each time you come back. 

Nice to know: The spot’s owners also helm a number of other establishments in the area (Furia, Cave Canaille, Centre Culturel), and you’ll often find the team oscillating among the spaces.

Unlike at Septime proper, there will always be room for you at Septime La Cave. The popular, dark-wooded spot is equipped with generous floor-to-ceiling glass wine cabinets. Patrons can select from the by-the-glass list, which is reliably generous in length, featuring a number of options in each possible category (Champagne, other bubbles, white, orange, red, chilled red) or from the cases at their leisure.

Conveniently located in the 11th, the place has just four barstools and a handful of other tucked-away seating options, but it’s all the more likely that you’ll find yourself wedged into a standing-room huddle, enjoying tasty jambon and butter-soft goat cheese while plowing through bottles of Chablis or Cornasse at prices far lower than you might expect from an establishment that bears the Septime name.

Nice to know: If you’re looking to drink a bottle in the cave, note that there is a 7-euro corkage fee. And if you’re looking for some heartier fare when the bottle count gets too high (and Septime still hasn’t found room for you), try chef’s counter Mokoloco just around the corner.