One table. One sommelier. Two cuts cooked two ways, paired with two bottles two slates apart.
Different cuts, prepared two different ways. Plated as two-bite tastings with sides on the same plate, built to compare. Refined portions. The kind of bites you remember in detail.
Two bottles. Two slates apart. Walked through plate by plate by a sommelier who knows precisely why each pour meets each cut — and tells you, without making it a lecture.
Small enough that the table actually has a conversation. Curated by invitation. The seats fill in the order they're confirmed.
A private room built for exactly this, the kind of stillness you forget cities can have. An evening that takes its time because the room insists on it.
A short reply is all we need — in or out.
Seats are held in the order they're confirmed.
