Our Story
The Building
A foundry that never quite cooled
For eighty years this room poured copper -- fittings, bells, the occasional weathervane. When the foundry closed, the brick kept the heat like a memory. We did not so much renovate it as relight it.
The long table at the center of the dining room was made from the original gantry beams. The copper that names us is still in the walls.
The Fire
One hearth, lit at four, out by midnight
Everything that leaves the kitchen has met the fire -- seared over flame, buried in embers, or kissed by the smoke that drifts off the coals as they settle.
Oak for heat. Almond wood for sweetness. Patience for everything else.
The People
A kitchen that cooks like it is feeding family
We are a small crew -- cooks, growers, a forager who calls us before anyone else, and a dining room team who will remember how you take your coffee.
The menu is written daily, in pencil, after the market and before the fire is lit. Some nights it changes between seatings. We think that is the point.