Ember-Roasted Beets
18Buried whole in the coals until the skins split. Whipped goat cheese, black walnut, sorrel, a spoon of the roasting juices.
Dinner Tue–Sun · Seating from 5:00 PM
One hearth, three woods, and whatever the farms sent this morning. No gas line runs into this building — every plate that leaves the pass has met fire.
The fire is lit at 11 AM and never goes out during service. Eight stools face it directly — first come, no reservations taken.
Our Story
Chef Nora Whitcomb spent nine years cooking on gas ranges before she tore one out of her own kitchen. What replaced it was a masonry hearth, a cord of split white oak, and a rule that has not moved since: the fire decides.
Mornings start with the burn. By the time the first delivery arrives — lamb from Stillwater Farm, trout out of Harrow Creek, oysters up from Dunmore Bay — there is a coal bed deep enough to bury a celery root in. The menu is written around what those two things have to say to each other, which is why it changes most weeks and entirely four times a year.
“Fire is not a technique here. It is the only appliance we own, and it is honest about everything you put in front of it.”
Nothing is finished in a warming drawer. Nothing arrives par-cooked. Our produce travels an average of 31 miles, our whole animals are broken down in-house every Tuesday, and what we cannot use goes back to the farms that sent it.
Nora Whitcomb · Chef & Owner
Three We’d Order
Aged in our own locker, finished directly in the coal bed for ninety seconds a side. It arrives carved, with the bone, and it is meant to be argued over.
The dish that convinced us the hearth didn’t need meat. Three hours under the coals, carved tableside, the burnt skin left on because that is the point.
Set into the coals when the doors open and pulled when you order it. Four hours of residual heat, brown butter ice cream, nothing else.
Reservations
Tables open thirty days out at 9:00 AM. The eight counter seats are held back for walk-ins every night — if the dining room is full, come early and try the bar.
Request received
We’ll text you to confirm. If the kitchen can’t hold this exact time, we’ll offer the nearest one either side.
Press
The celery root is the most persuasive argument for cooking vegetables in fire that I have eaten in a decade.
Whitcomb cooks like someone who has nothing to hide behind. No sauce arrives to rescue anything, because nothing needs rescuing.
Sit at the counter. You will leave smelling like a bonfire and you will not mind at all.
Private Events
Every private event is cooked on the same hearth by the same team — there is no separate banquet kitchen and no separate menu. Tell us the date and how many, and Nora writes something for it.
Below the dining room, stone-walled, one long oak table. Best for dinners where everyone should be able to hear everyone.
The half of the dining room that faces the fire, curtained off. Courses come straight from the grate to the table, six feet away.
The whole building, counter included, plus the courtyard in season. Standing receptions up to 120; we bring in a second fire.