Dallas · a live-fire tasting counter
Ember & Salt
Six courses from a single fire. Thirty-four seats around the hearth. No gas in the building — only post oak, patience, and salt.
Tonight's seatings
- 5:30sold out
- 7:45two seats
- 9:30open
The idea
Everything touches the fire.
There is no gas line in the building. Two cords of Texas post oak a week — lit at two, raked to embers by five, read all night like weather. The menu is written each morning around what the fire will give, and nothing reaches the plate without passing through it.
The Tasting
Six courses, one fire.
The menu moves with the seasons and the wood pile; tonight's is below. Read it the way you'll eat it — slowly.
Six courses — 145 · wine pairing +85
Course one
Hearth Loaf
Three-day levain baked in the dying coals, split at the table while it still steams. Butter smoked over pecan as you watch.
PourBlanc de blancs — chalk, brioche, a little smoke
Post oak embers · 480°
Course two
Gulf Crudo
Day-boat snapper, charred-lime leche de tigre, oil pressed from grilled citrus. The one cold moment of the night.
PourAlbariño — salt air in a glass
No flame · the pause
Course three
Beets from the Ash
Buried in the ash bed overnight, glazed in their own juice reduced over flame, finished with goat’s whey.
PourJura Trousseau — earth answering earth
Ash bed · overnight
Course four
Redfish on the Half Shell
Cooked on its own skin over open post-oak flame, the brown butter caught in a pan beneath the grate.
PourSkin-contact Ribolla — texture for texture
Open flame · 700°
Course five
Duck, Aged Twenty-One Days
Dry-aged on the hook above the hearth. The breast is kissed by flame; the jus is its own bones and black garlic.
PourBurgundian Pinot — the quiet power
Hearth-hung · 21 days
Course six
Burnt Honey & Ash
Burnt-honey custard, pecan-smoked chocolate, meringue dried over the night’s last heat. The fire’s goodbye.
PourOloroso — embers, bottled
The last heat · 200°
Course seven is the table itself.
Two and a quarter hours, start to finish. The fire does not repeat itself — neither will tonight.
Choose your seatingReservations
The counter holds thirty-four. Tonight it could hold you.
The other door
The counter, à la carte.
Wednesday and Thursday, the rail seats stay walk-in: a short menu cooked off the same coals, no reservation, no ceremony. Come for one plate or stay for the night.
Wed & Thu · 5:30 until the wood runs out
- Hearth loaf & smoked butterfor the table14
- Oysters, ember mignonettehalf dozen24
- Beets from the ash, whey19
- Coal-seared gulf shrimphead on27
- Redfish on the half shellfor two58
- Burnt honey custard15
The Room
Thirty-four seats in the glow.
The rail
Eighteen seats at the pass — close enough to feel the hearth change its mind.
The two-tops
Eight tables along the brick, lit by candle and whatever the fire throws.
The quiet rules
No tablecloths, no soundtrack louder than the wood, phones welcome but rarely used.
From the chef
“A coal at the right moment is a better cook than I will ever be. My job is to be standing there at the right moment.”
Voss spent nine years in kitchens that hid their fire behind steel and induction. Ember & Salt is the opposite bet: one hearth in the middle of the room, a menu that answers to it, and a brigade trained to read embers the way sommeliers read vintages.
What the fire is fed
- Caddo Bend Farmroots, alliums, the beets
- Brazos pasturesduck, quail, cultured butter
- Gulf day-boatssnapper, redfish, oysters
- Post oak & pecantwo cords a week — the cookline
Sourcing changes with the week's weather and the week's boats — the menu follows the deliveries, never the other way around.
Private dining
The Hearth Room.
A private counter off the main room for eight to fourteen guests — your own fire, your own pace, a door that closes. Birthdays, signings, the dinner before the wedding.
- Its own hearth, its own counter
- A menu set with the chef, for your table alone
- Wine walked up from the cellar as the night asks