Supérette perfects the sip-and-nibble wine bar for a generation that craves the “in-between” meal

Chloé Grigri and Vincent Stipo don’t have commitment issues when it comes to most things. The two have been inseparable since they began dating in 2014 after Stipo, then the beverage wizard at Vernick, fell for Grigri’s Provençale-American charm during a visit to the Good King Tavern, the French bistro in Queen Village she’d opened the prior year with her father, Bernard. They got married on a South Philly deck during COVID and now have a 2-year-old daughter named Margot.

In the meantime, the pair have been as committed as anyone to nurturing Philly’s natural wine scene, opening the charming Le Caveau wine bar above Good King in 2019, then the sleek pocket bar Superfolie near Rittenhouse in 2023. Each maintains a distinct French theme, both in the bottles of pét-nat and their limited nibbles, with as strong a devotion to punchy Amora Dijon mustard as you’ll find this side of the Atlantic. (“That’s the mustard the French live and breathe on,” said Grigri, 37, whose hot dog baguette at Le Caveau would be little more than a bready weiner without it.)

What this couple will not commit to, however, is a lengthy dinner at a single restaurant.

“When we go out for fun, we love to pick a few things off the menu, maybe a bottle of wine and move on,” said Stipo, 39. “It might be a generational thing. But a lot of our peers appreciate that style of place with an in-between meal where you can hang out with friends and just have a snack to hold you over.”

The couple and their partners have refined the sip-and-nibble restaurant genre so convincingly at their latest creation, Supérette, that I just might not want to leave so fast. It’s a thought that occurs to me as I sink my teeth into a jambon sandwich crackling with crushed potato chips and butter whipped with cornichons, then wash it down with an herbaceous Venetian orange wine (Nevio Scala Blanko).

There are few places in Philadelphia right now that are as fun to eat and drink at as Supérette. That’s provided you’re lucky enough to snag one of the 44 indoor seats scattered across the space, which is divided between a small retail wine market and the dining room, where a diner-like counter, small tables for two, and stools line the window seats of this corner room.

Lunch is your best bet for a relatively peaceful meal spent lingering over a salad of golden beets and Cara Cara oranges in an Espelette pepper-honey vinaigrette, a waffle-esque grid of brown butter-glossed mini-ravioles stuffed with Comté cheese, and a zesty mound of steak tartare garnished with earthy, paper-thin pickled mushrooms. Prime-time hours are considerably noisier, with standing-room drinkers filling the tiled floor spaces between the seating and store shelves. It’s more cramped than one of the tins of Spanish conservas on the menu.

Since most of the seats face out in one direction, it’s ideal for flâneurs practiced in the fine French art of people watching, but awkward for parties larger than two. The outdoor tables offer more conventional seating, but once the crispy vadouvan-spiced chickpeas and sparkling blaufränkisch rosé starts flowing — and at $43 a carafe, pourquoi pas? (You may have a challenge dislodging the table involved in a heated card game beside you.)

The magnetism of this very Euro corner — the former Primal Supply Meats off East Passyunk Avenue and beside the Singing Fountain — is undeniable. With design input from co-owner Owen Kamahira (El Camino Real), the old butcher shop has been remade into an airy, energetic room with butter-colored walls, teal accents, and Marmoleum countertops wrapped in fluted metal bands that frame the space with a mid-century aura. Its nostalgic vibe is bolstered in the market by the French candies, chocolates, and chips that Grigri and her brother (and Supérette’s GM) Lucas Grigri, used to shop for as kids with their father.

If wine’s not your passion, there are freezer martinis kissed with gentian-flavored Suze and tequila highballs fizzing pink with foamy poufs of cassis “air,” a well-chosen Saison Dupont from the tiny beer list, an anisette-nerd’s selection of pastis, and a surprising collection of mezcals — a terroir- and producer-driven spirit that’s also celebrated at Superfolie.

The food program at Supérette is the most meal-worthy this group has offered since the Good King, with an array of charcuterie and cheese boards, seasonal salads, and sandwiches. It’s impressive considering the tiny kitchen is armed with little more than a TurboChef oven for reheating things and a small boiler to cook the mini-ravioles that have fast become one of the restaurant’s signatures. (A seasonal variation from chef Jasie Schaeffer glazed with vivid green ramp cream was fantastic.)

The owners have the luxury of other restaurants to bolster their culinary efforts, including pistachio-studded country terrines and silky chicken liver mousse topped with strawberry or kumquat jam from the Good King, whose hickory-smoked fluke spread whipped with crème fraîche and lemon was also a highlight from the charcuterie collection.

Good King chef Ron Carter is also responsible for the pithivier, a double-crusted slice of savory pastry stuffed with a rustic mash of chickpeas and potatoes and a layer of blanched Swiss chard tanged with preserved lemon, all served over a creamy smear of minted labneh that makes for a satisfying vegetarian option. A plate of roasted artichoke hearts with aioli would have been perfect had the oven-roasted thistles been better crisped, prompting me to wonder if this efficient kitchen couldn’t use a little fryer, too.

Most of the sausages and smoked meats come from Kamahira, and though I wasn’t a big fan of the Toulouse-style link tucked into a baguette with roasted peppers (I prefer a coarser grind), his harissa-spiced merguez was excellent sliced into rounds alongside roasted coins of tender Galician octopus and fingerling potatoes.

The Camino-made jambon de Philly (injected with juniper, nutmeg, and bay; pressed and cured for 10 days; slow-cooked and branded with Kamahira‘s Japanese family crest) is about as good as any French ham I’ve had. The soft yet delicately crisped focaccia-like bread called pinsa used for that ham sandwich was a pleasant and surprising departure from the usual baguette. But a crusty roll is required for the sandwich stuffed with oozy raclette cheese, chopped cornichons, and nose-tickling Amora mustard. Smoky slices of Kamahira’s coppa, for an additional $4, took it to the next level. The excellent saucisson sec, available on the charcuterie board, comes from Mangalitsa heirloom pigs at Stone Arch Farms in Lititz.

The by-the-glass wine list curated by wine director Kaitlyn Caruke is reasonably priced, topping out at $16 and ranging from a saline white Cortese from Broc Cellars in Berkeley, Calif., to a light-bodied Óscar Navas tempranillo blend from Catalonia; all food-friendly and ready to quaff. You can also go deeper with any bottle off Supérette’s retail shelf. Even with a $25 corkage fee to drink on-site, that amounts to a deal for a bottle of Carafoli’s L’Onesta Lambrusco ($21), Ann Faure’s pinot noir ($24), the house-labeled gamay rosé from the Loire ($40), or the Alsatian white blend Racines Métisses from Laurent Barth that my lunch companion, wine author Jon Bonné, praised while browsing the shelves. “You will not find a better bottle for $35,” he said.

For dessert, the kitchen turns to a popular shortcut these days: a soft-serve machine and a premade custard from 1-900-Ice-Cream, which acts as a neutral base to embellish. Supérette gives it a Gallic panache from its own market shelves with a tin of crème de marrons. The chestnut cream lends a beautiful tan hue to the cream and a delicately nutty, caramel sweetness that’s more subtle than, say, hazelnut.

I was just admiring its seamless interplay in a twist with Tahitian vanilla custard while sipping a cloudy anise glass of rarely seen Italian Bordiga pastis when Lou Reed came on the speakers and Supérette’s crew clearly began to wind down. I would have committed to being the last diner here. But if this bar’s relatively early closing time — 9 p.m. most weeknights — didn’t sneak up on me and give me the hint, the regular arrival of the John’s Water Ice truck to the curb just outside its doors made it clear. There’s a world of other wonderful things to nibble and sip in Philadelphia. Supérette was created to be just one more delicious stop along the way.

1538 E. Passyunk Ave., Philadelphia, Pa. 19147; superettephl.com

Tuesday through Thursday, noon-9 p.m.; Friday and Saturday, until 10 p.m.; Sunday, until 8 p.m. Closed Monday.

Wheelchair accessible through rear entrance.

Plates and sandwiches, $11-$18. (Tinned fish ranges up to $25.)

Menu highlights: Plateau du marché cheese and charcuterie platter; golden beet salad; octopus and merguez; potato pithiviers; Comté ravioles; French ham and cornichon butter sandwich; raclette sandwich; crème de marrons soft-serve.

There are several gluten-free options, with gluten-free crackers available to accompany meats and cheeses instead of baguette.

Drinks: Affordable natural wines are the focus by the glass or carafe; and a deep retail shelf of largely European indie producers can be consumed at the restaurant for an additional $25 corkage fee. Prebatched cocktails come with fun French twists (the Suze martini, a pink tequila highball topped with cassis air), while the back bar also has an excellent selection of mezcals and pastis.