Quiet, considered cooking — brought to your table. A private dining experience built around the season, the room, and the people in it.
Reserve an Evening
Private dining is not restaurant cooking moved into a home. It is something else entirely — closer, slower, and built for the people seated around the table.
Each menu begins with a conversation. What is the room? Who is at the table? What is the season offering? From there, a meal is composed — precise, seasonal, and never repeated in quite the same way.
The kitchen comes to you. Your candles, your music, the wines you have been saving — uncorked at your own table, in the room where you live. No reservation. No closing time. No drive home at the end of the night.
When the last plate is cleared, the evening doesn't end. It just keeps going, on its own time.
A single table in your home. Six to twelve guests, every plate cooked in your kitchen — the original Savoré format, and the heart of the practice.
Weddings, anniversaries, gatherings that outgrow the home kitchen. Bespoke menus carried elsewhere, with the same considered hand.
Corporate dinners, brand evenings, retreats. The cooking scaled with care, the precision held — nothing lost to the size of the room.
Fines de claire on the half shell, watermelon mignonette, aged verjus.
A single oyster dressed with pickled shallot and yellow mustard seed.
Layered potato, crème fraîche, Oscietra caviar, lime zest.
Three bites — to begin, to anchor, to remember the evening by.
Stewed summer cherries, brown butter ice cream, crushed almond meringue.
Every dish is cooked in your kitchen, plated at your table, by hand.
"Three spoons, three flavours — vinegar, honey, oil. The foundation of every plate that leaves my kitchen."
We begin with a call. Preferences, allergies, the occasion, the room — everything that will shape the evening.
A menu is drafted, refined, and shared with you. Wines are paired in collaboration, never imposed.
I arrive in the afternoon. Every plate is cooked on site, served at your table, and cleared before I leave.
Cooking for a private table is the closest a chef gets to writing a letter. Every guest at the table reads it differently — and that is the point.