We cook the way people did before there were dials.
There is a single hearth in our kitchen, stacked each afternoon with oak and a little applewood. Everything you eat here meets it — the leeks, the bread, the fish, even the pear that finishes your night. Fire is honest and unforgiving, so the cooking stays simple: good things, close to the coals, salted well, served warm.
Everything you eat here met the flame first — nothing hides behind a sauce.