The Chef’s Table
Welcome to my kitchen. I drew it so that nobody in it has to move. There is a table in it for 4 to 8 people, and on some nights it is yours.
Welcome to my kitchen. I drew it so that nobody in it has to move. There is a table in it for 4 to 8 people, and on some nights it is yours.

I am not afraid of people looking in. I have nothing to hide.
The kitchen at L Campo is open by design: the glass, the pass, the counter you can see from the street. What you see is how clean it is, how food is handled, how food safety is practised, and how a plate is served. All of that is meant to be seen. If you want to explore it, you can.
Everything a cook needs is on the station. Moving is optional, not required.
Every station has its own refrigeration, its own workspace, its own storage and its own cooking equipment, stocked before service. Every station has a screen and a printer, and executes its orders on its own. The stations do not depend on each other. Nobody waits for anybody.
That is what makes the kitchen quiet. I am not big on talking on the job. I like a room where people can concentrate on the task in front of them, and a kitchen where each station is complete is a kitchen where nobody has to shout.

A kitchen does not normally have a table. This one does.
At the back of the kitchen, between the spice shelves and the range, there is a table for up to 8. The cooks work around you. You see the rabbit go on the grill and the paella go on the flame, and you see them come off. We held 12 chef’s tables in the last year, and every one of them was a good night, for the guests and for me. I will keep holding them, on some occasions, in autumn, winter and spring. The table is in honour of an evening my wife once gave me: a kitchen table at Charlie Trotter’s in Chicago on 30 August 2012, the last one he cooked before the restaurant closed. I still have the menu. The story is here.

Six courses, a wine with each, and the chef at the table.
An aperitif to begin. Then 6 courses, written for your table and agreed with you beforehand, each with a wine poured as a tasting, 2 ounces a glass. Sparkling water, still water and soft drinks are included. I am with you all evening: cooking, serving, answering.
The evening is $300 a person, gratuity included: $1,200 for four, which is the smallest table, up to $2,400 for 8. There is no service charge. Tax is extra. Book 7 days ahead at the least. Guests are 18 and over.
You send the enquiry below. I reply within two business days. I propose a menu, we agree on it, and a deposit of half holds the date. The deposit is not refunded.
No. The wine is part of the evening, chosen for each course.
No. Alcohol-free pairings or mocktails can be arranged before booking. The price is the same; there is no discount for not drinking.
Two ounces a glass, six times. It is a tasting, less than half a normal pour, and it is meant to be.
Sparkling water, still water and soft drinks, free of charge, all evening.
Sometimes, and then everyone at the table eats the same way. If the table is vegan, the menu is vegan. If meat is fine, everyone eats meat. The menu is written for the table as one, and I do not make exceptions for one seat.
All night. I cook for you, I help serve you, I answer questions, and we learn from one another.
Yes. Walk through, look at the stations, ask how anything is done.
Yes, if service permits. Before service and after it, absolutely.
A busy night reaches about seventy-five degrees in the kitchen. In summer it is hotter than that, which is why there are no chef's tables in summer.
Yes. The staff are trained to leave the table alone and to keep traffic away from it. For the evening, the kitchen is yours.
No. Guests are eighteen and over.
Yes. A gift certificate is made out in the name of the person it is for, paid online, with a letter sent if you want one.
Tell me the date, how many you are, and what the table can and cannot eat. I reply within 2 business days with a menu. Enquiries come to me, Torsten.