Hardwood embers, dry-aged cuts, and a bar built for the slow conversations worth staying for. This is dinner taken seriously and never stiffly.
We built The Ember Room around one idea. Fire makes people honest, and a good table keeps them there.
Every cut is finished over open hardwood, basted in its own rendered fat, and rested before it reaches you. Our cellar leans toward bold reds and small producers, while the bar runs deep on aged rye, mezcal, and a rotating set of house infusions drawn off the same embers as the kitchen.
The lighting stays low. The booths stay deep. Nobody rushes you toward the door. That is the whole point.
No gas line, no shortcuts. White oak and cherry burn down to coals every afternoon, and that bed of embers cooks the room from the first sear to the last burnt-honey cocktail of the night.
Three rooms, one fire. Choose the night you came for.
Seats facing the open fire where every cut is finished. The best seat in the house for watching the kitchen work.
Two hundred and forty spirits, a quiet list of rare pours, and bartenders who pour like they mean it. Walk-ins welcome.
A secluded room for ten to sixteen. Tailored menus, dedicated service, and a sommelier for the evening you want remembered.
Sample guest impressions written to show the tone of a typical evening. Real, attributed reviews replace these in a client build.
The ribeye arrived with a crust I have not stopped thinking about. We sat for three hours and nobody once made us feel finished.
The bar alone is worth the trip. The old fashioned tastes like a campfire in the best possible way, and the lighting makes everyone look like they belong.
We booked the private table for a client dinner and the service read the room perfectly. Quiet when we needed it, generous when we did not.
Sample testimonials shown for layout. In a live build these are pulled from your verified Google and Resy reviews.
Tables open thirty days out. Same-night seats at the Cellar Bar are first come, first served.