Fire first.Plate second.
One wood fire, no gas in the building. The butcher cuts what the fire gets, and the fire gets everything.
Tue – Sun · counter from 09:00 · fire from 18:00
Butcher shop in front · fire in the back · est. on principle
One wood fire, no gas in the building. The butcher cuts what the fire gets, and the fire gets everything.
Tue – Sun · counter from 09:00 · fire from 18:00Whole animals, bought from farmers we can name, cut in the window where you can watch. Nothing frozen, nothing hidden, nothing wasted.
Oak first, beech on top. The baker gets the first heat; the day's bread proves beside the chimney.
Service cooks on what the day burned down to. Meat over embers, never over fire — flames are for show-offs.
Bones roast overnight for tomorrow's broth. The fire never quite dies; neither does the smell of it on your coat.
Chalked at five, gone when they're gone. The fire decides the order.
The slow file. Six hours at the fire's edge while the quick cuts get the glory. Order it if you know; ask about it if you don't — the staff eat this one.
Leeks in the ashes, cabbage under a brick, beets buried at noon and dug at eight. The fire does not discriminate.
Sourdough proved overnight beside the chimney, baked at dawn in the heat the meat left behind. Sold at the counter till noon; served with marrow after six. One flour, one shape, no croissants.
Come in the morning for the weekend joint and leave with dinner advice you didn't ask for. The counter staff and the kitchen are the same six people; the knife work just moves rooms at six.