Cats of all persuasions—hip, cool, thin and fat—squeeze into this noisy west-end bar–cum–tapas joint. With more than two dozen wines by the glass, this is the spot for sipping and grazing, with a little help from savvy staff, who ensure successful pairings. Soup of the day intoxicates, with a truffle oil–drizzled cream of mushroom that begs for hunks of baguette to wipe the bowl clean. A terrine of caribou proffers three fat slices, the game interlaced with fig and port, and garnished with crunchy cornichons and salty, plump caper berries. Mediterranean notes dominate the menu, from escargots to chorizo and a salad of julienne pears, candied walnuts and blue-veined cabrales from Spain. Yukon golds in a little cast iron pan ooze under a raclette spiked with smoked bacon. In sweets, the house specialty is a warm and gooey banana cobbler, baked à la minute. Mains $11–$14.