Open Wednesday to Sunday from 5pm. Everything crosses live oak before it reaches the pass, the list changes when the market does, and nobody will rush you out for the second seating. Walk-ins are always welcome at the bar; the dining room takes reservations.
A short menu is not restraint, it is arithmetic. Eighteen dishes means every one of them meets the fire at the right minute, and nothing sits in a warmer waiting to be forgiven.
Brick, oak, low light and a counter that looks straight into the fire. Loud enough to talk over, quiet enough to be heard.
“The shortest menu in the city and not one line of it is filler.”
“You smell the oak from the sidewalk. Everything after that is inevitable.”
“A dining room that trusts fire, salt and the clock, in that order.”
Last seating is one hour before close. The bar pours for another thirty minutes after the kitchen stops.
418 Kiln Street, Riverbend — the black door under the awning, no sign.
Between Foundry Row and 9th, mid-block on the north side.
Metered on Kiln until 6pm, free after. The lot behind the building opens to guests at 5pm.
Foundry Row station, four minutes on foot. The 14 and 31 buses stop at 9th.
One long oak table at the back of the room, twelve to eighteen guests, curtained off when you want it to be.
Set menus start at sixty-five per person and are written with you rather than handed to you. Whole-room buyouts run Wednesday and Thursday evenings from thirty-eight guests, and the kitchen will build around a dietary restriction if we know about it a week out.
Call the events line