Maybe you felt it one fall night outside a Vermont farmhouse, sitting at a long table with old friends, digging into big wooden bowls of salad and fresh pasta.
Or maybe on a beach in early summer, with the scent of a clambake filling the air with herbs and brine. Or maybe at a family-owned tavern somewhere in Tuscany or Sonoma County, with a hodgepodge of art on the walls and a steady supply of delicious nourishment coming out of the kitchen.
It’s a feeling — that sense of everything is right with the world and this is where I want to be.
That’s what we’re going for at Hearth, even though we happen to occupy a corner of the East Village. Whether you’re sitting at the bar, at the chef’s counter, or at a big table in our dining room, we want you to feel as though you’ve found a dependable refuge from the stresses of the world outside.