L.C.B.O doesn't worth more than the S.A.Q

Wine Whine

Government red tape can be enough to drive you to drink. But if you work for Le Select Bistro, downing a bottle of your own wine could be illegal.

This bizarre tale that put one of Toronto's most popular establishments in a legal Twilight Zone began when the licensed eatery closed its longtime location on Queen St. West and moved to new digs on Wellington St.

But when it tried to bring some of its extensive wine collection to its new home, there was a problem.

According to L.C.B.O. rules, the wine wasn’t transferable because it was purchased under a liquor license meant only for the Queen West site.

Moving it and reselling it commercially in the new place would be considered bootlegging and leave the restaurant open to a $200,000 fine or a license suspension.

The owners need a proof of purchase to beat the system, and they do – but only for 80 percent of their collection.

The rest are vintage wines purchased decades ago. And some are extremely valuable, worth anywhere from $1,000-1,500 a bottle.

Their age means there’s no receipt. And that means they can’t legally take them to the new diner.

“Like every business ... we're mandated by law to keep our records for 7 years,” co-owner Frederic Geiweiller explains. “We don't keep them for 20 years or for 25 years. In fact, I don't know who does.”

But according to the government rules, they should have.

“If I was a licencee and I had in my inventory bottles of wine that's worth from $600 to $1,300, I have a feeling I would kind of remember where I bought it and when I bought it,” maintains Ab Campion of the Alcohol and Gaming Commission.

Geiweiller just wants the mix-up solved so he can quite literally get back to business as usual.

"The resale value of the wine cellar is probably close to $800,000,” he sighs. “So if you take 60 percent of this market value away from us, I mean it's a significant loss.”

The Commission has given Le Select until next Tuesday to present all its records.

Until then, the bottles will remain locked up by a quirk – or maybe a cork – of fate.