Most everything sourced within ninety minutes of the kitchen door. The menu shifts with the seasons, but the burger and the mac don't go anywhere. Vegetarian options on every section. We mark allergens at the bottom of every dish on the printed menu in the dining room.
A different menu, a hot cup of coffee, and the Carolina Sisters singing from eleven sharp until everybody finishes their second mimosa. No reservations needed; bring the family.
Kids eat a real meal, off a small plate, for less. We'll bring crayons and color-and-keep menus while you wait. Highchairs, please ask.
Single 3oz patty, american cheese, soft bun. Fries.
Three hand-breaded tenders, honey mustard or ranch.
Cast-iron, no breadcrumb crust. Half-portion of the grown-up.
Sharp NC cheddar, sourdough. Comes with apple slices.
We didn't write a manifesto. We just got tired of grocery-store boxes. Most of the menu lives within ninety minutes of the bar. The folks below are the ones whose names we know by heart.
Pasture-raised beef and pork. Our burger blend is their chuck and short rib, ground twice that morning. They're the reason we don't change burger suppliers.
Spring-fed rainbow trout, three generations on the same creek. We get the trout dip smoke and the almondine fillets twice a week.
Maitake, lion's mane, foraged trumpets and chicken-of-the-woods. They drop boxes every Tuesday and Friday morning, before the kitchen opens.
Stone-milled flour from regional grains. Our sourdough lives because of them. They mill on Tuesdays; the bread schedule shifted to match.
Sheep and goat cheese aged on the farm. The chèvre on the beet salad has been the chèvre on the beet salad for nine years.
Our greens, our kale, the beets, the radishes, anything in the salad section that has dirt on it when it gets to the back door.
Tell your server. We've fed gluten-free, dairy-free, vegan, low-sodium, sweet-and-sour-and-everything-else tables. The kitchen will accommodate. We list ingredients; we don't make a face.