MetroVino does everything better than you’d expect from a wine bar that’s a bit…Enomatic. That’s the name for the machines that preserve wine for longer than would be possible otherwise, reducing inventory risk and enabling expensive wines to be poured by the glass, in 5.25-ounce and 1.75-ounce servings. The machines reside safely behind the bar in the able hands of the personable, passionate, knowledgeable bar staff, with occasional ringers. (Not that a $300 bottle offers any better value at $20 per taste, but at least you’re limiting your exposure.)

Although the wine program is well conceived (lots of unheralded appellations and small producers), we do wish wine prices were lower. $34.50 for a glass of Paul Pernot 2007 1er Cru Folatières Puligny-Montrachet (retail price per bottle: $70) or $22.50 for a glass of Vietti 2005 Barolo Castiglione (retail price per bottle: $45) aren’t absurd from a markup perspective, but they are from a sanity-check perspective.

MetroVino’s vibe is modern to the core, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city streets and Portland’s urban eco-marsh, Tanner Springs Park, but there’s an unpretentious un-Pearlishness to the place. An eclectic mix plays while science-lab-ish lamps swing about, mimicking old-school clear-glass incandescent lightbulbs; and a friendly buzz pervades, even on a Monday night.

Equally modern are the vaguely Italian-inspired American restaurant menu and bar menu (the latter is quite inexpensive: $6–$13 for big portions). Craft cheeses are interesting. More interesting still are Roman-style tripe stew with tomato, pecorino, and mint; roasted marrow bones; and an appearance of raclette, one of the unsung heroes of the fondue world. Less classy, though, is the lame, populist employment of “edamame” in a purée that decks out “salmon gravlax bruschetta.”

We’ve been pleasantly surprised by shrimp “ceviche,” done with spicy, delightfully tender, teensy-weensy shrimp, and ripe avocado slices properly seasoned with kosher salt—an oft-overlooked step. Surprising, too, are pork ribs glazed with hoisin, whose syrupy character is balanced by a healthy char and globules of delicious fat lurking on the underside of the bones. Add the “kimchi bean sprouts,” which actually deliver with some heat and pickle flavor, and you’ve got a Utopian version of Chinese-American spare ribs in a somewhat Utopian version of a trendy wine bar.