A single oak hearth, twelve seats at the pass, and a menu that changes with the coals. Ember is where smoke becomes supper.
There is no gas line in our kitchen. Every plate that leaves the pass has met the same oak fire — leeks buried in embers until sweet, bread blistered against the stone, beef hung thirty days then kissed by flame for minutes.
We light the hearth at two o'clock. By the time you sit, the coals have settled into the slow, even glow that does the real cooking. What you taste is patience and woodsmoke — the two things we never rush.
"We don't season with salt so much as with fire and time."— Mara Voss, Head of Hearth
Twelve seats, two sittings, one fire. Tell us when you'd like to join and we'll hold a place by the hearth.
