For splendor and variety, Paris trumps New York as a food-shopping city. But for buying wine, New York’s realm of retailers, far more eclectic than those of Paris, could not be bested. Or so I thought until last Saturday afternoon, when I walked into Lavinia, the vast and adventurous wine shop now celebrating its third year of shaking up the French wine establishment.

Its three floors offer a selection of 5500 wines and spirits and 1000 wine-related items ranging from futuristic corkscrews to reprints of 19th-century French wine books. Lavinia now outdoes any and all New York retail competition. And there’s more: an easygoing second floor wine bar with an adjoining restaurant, open for lunch only, where any bottle bought in the shop can be brought to the table at no extra cost. That’s a service forbidden by law in the state of New York.

The French – content in the knowledge that they long ago created most vinous reference points for the rest of us – have had a hard time accepting that wines from as far away as New Zealand and as close by as Spain deserve their full attention. But Lavinia will have nothing to do with that. As if to stick a finger in the eye of the old guard, its display windows currently showcase wines from, of all places, India. Front and center upon entering the shop, my eye first fell upon stacked up cases of Alamos Argentinian Chardonnay ($9.20), and just to the left, the “super-Tuscan” Sassicaia ($125). There was Cloudy Bay Sauvignon Blanc ($26) from New Zealand, and, most intriguing to an American, a California classic, the Ridge “Monte Bello” Cabernet Sauvignon from the 2000 vintage ($187). Twenty cases of that rare wine were stacked on Lavinia’s floor. France was represented by one of its own classics, Dom Perignon 1996 ($114), as well as by more humble wines such as Chateau du Puy 1998, a Cotes-de-Francs ($10.50) in an unusual, half-liter format that is midway between normal half-bottle and full-bottle sizes.

While Lavinia is determined to expose Parisians to the wide world of wines, it does not scrimp on the products from the home turf. Three thousand selections, or 60% of its wines, are French. The main body of the French section, however, has been relegated to the basement floor. If it were on the main floor, manager Yannick Branchereau explains, most Parisians would never venture beyond that realm. The greats of France are present in abundance, right up to the ultimate rarity, Romanee-Conti 1995, a red Burgundy, at $6375. Far more interesting, for those of us with modest-sized wallets but ample curiosity, are Lavinia’s extraordinary collection of wines from offbeat appellations. In the Southwestern France section, for example, I spotted “Les Chemins d’Orient,” Cuvee Oxiane, 2001 ($25) from Pecharmant. “Little of it escapes the region,” says the terse note in my Concise Wine Companion’s entry on Pecharmant. Next to that bottle was a red, Herri Mina 2000 ($17.75) from the even more arcane appellation of Irouleguy in Basque Country. The owner of Herri Mina is Jean-Claude Berrouet, whose day job is making wines at the not-so-arcane Chateau Petrus in Pomerol.

The immense gathering of little-known wines at Lavinia is not by chance. “Our primary rule here,” says Mr. Branchereau, “is that we emphasize wines of individual winemakers [“vins des artisans-vignerons”], not the brand names [“produits de marques”] that are featured in the supermarkets. Each of these wines has a story to tell. The brand-name wines – they’re just alcoholized beverages.”

Lavinia takes care to protect its immense stock. A steady temperature of 68 degrees is maintained in the store, except in the glassed-in, lower-floor “ancient cave,” where, says Mr. Brancherau, “fragile wines, including those that are unsulfered,” can rest at a temperature of 57 degrees. Humidity is kept at a constant 75%. Even Lavinia’s lighting has been designed for the well-being of the wine, which can be hurt by bright rays. “We have more than the normal number of overhead lamps so that customers can see well,” says Mr. Branchereau, “but their intensity is lower than normal.”

I’d heard from a Brooklyn couple who visited Lavinia last month, intent on buying Armagnac, that a salesperson had not been especially helpful. “They just assume that you already know what you want,” my friends said. Snippiness is not rare among Parisian salespeople, and Lavinia’s staff of 15 roaming “sommeliers” may be guilty as charged. But as I listened to interactions with customers, the sommeliers seemed helpful. Seeing me enter the store pulling a rolling suitcase, a young staffer suggested that I park it behind the counter, a thoughtful gesture that I appreciated. The shop’s consumer-friendly features include food-matching charts for many wines. Color-coded rings on selected wines also offer guidance: brown rings for sommelier selections, yellow for best value, ivory for bottles getting buzz, green for organic, biodynamic, or natural wines.

In Lavinia’s wine bar, with its 50-odd choices, I settled on a Spanish Viognier to go with a snack of lentils in hazelnut oil with foie gras shavings. But the young waitress shook her head adamantly. “That wine won’t work with the volume of the lentils and the richness of the foie gras,” she said.

She proposed Chateau Yvonne, a dry white Loire wine from Saumur. Full-bodied, emphasizing bedrock minerality rather than fruitiness, the wine did its job well. An Iberico ham resting on a nearby butcher’s block beckoned, so I asked for a small plate of it with a glass of champagne. Once again, the waitress demurred. Better to match the ham, she said, with a glass of dry sherry, Osborne’s Fino Quinta. Gold with pale green tints, this sherry had exceptional freshness and may well have been better than bubbles with the ham.

On my next trip to Paris, I plan to check out Lavinia’s lunch menu before selecting a wine to go with my main course. I also plan, at the end of the meal, to pass up dessert. Instead, I’ll head directly across the boulevard for a nibble at Maison du Chocolat. After all, it’s not always all about the wine.

Lavinia, 3 Boulevard de la Madeleine, 75001 Paris, 33-14-297-2020. www.lavinia.fr under construction. Monday-Friday, 10 a.m.-8 p.m., Saturday, 9 a.m.-8 p.m. Wine Bar 3-8 p.m., restaurant noon-3 p.m. Personal shoppers by appointment. Tax free purchases and shipment to America available.