New Times has visited the Naked Grape thrice. The first time, we got into a long conversation with a toned fortysomething stud about the relative virtues of Renata Tebaldi and Maria Callas. The second time, we met a queeny young thing who had very interesting things to say about why Wilton Manors would instantly become a bastion of heterosexuality if ever viewed through a Hegelian dialectical lens (we had our doubts about that one, but it's what the man said). The third time, one of the Grape's crack sommeliers effused to us about Schopenhauer's Essays and Aphorisms. This is not the kind of track record you accrue in any old gay bar — and probably not even in most gay wine bars, of which the Naked Grape is one. Nay: this is a weird, weird confluence of forces. Comers to the Naked Grape should bring cleared palates, a desire to socialize, and big brains.