Fourteen courses, two hours, and nothing on the plate that does not belong there
Solenne is built around one counter and one rhythm. Every course is finished in front of the guest who eats it, minutes from the tide it came in on. The room stays at twelve so the kitchen never has to raise its voice.
The menu is written each morning, after the fish comes up from Point Judith and before the first prep list goes on the wall. Nothing is held over. If a course ran last night and the ingredient is not as good today, it is gone by seven in the morning and something else is on the board by nine.
There is no substitution past the two days we ask for, no music you would have to talk over, and no tipping line on the check. Twelve seats is not a scarcity trick. Thirteen would change how we cook, and we are not curious enough about that to try it.
Tonight
Fourteen courses, written this morning. This is last night's menu, which is the closest thing to a promise we can give you.
Iof fourteen
- I
Oyster, white kombu, finger lime
Two Vessel Point oysters, kombu cured two days, the lime broken over them at the counter.
- II
Chawanmushi, smoked eel, chive blossom
Egg custard set at 84 degrees. The eel is smoked over cherry wood on Tuesdays.
- III
Radish, brown bread, sea salt
Three radishes from Halbrook Farm, one bite, eaten with your hands on purpose.
- IV
Scallop, brown butter dashi
Shucked at the pass, thirty seconds a side, the dashi poured in front of you.
- V
Langoustine, sea rose, caviar
Landed in Maine on Tuesday, poached in stock made from its own shell.
- VI
Sourdough, cultured butter
The starter has been fed since 2019. This is the course we bring twice.
- VII
Turbot, young leek, champagne beurre blanc
Cooked on the bone, carved off it, the sauce mounted for each plate as it goes.
- VIII
Lobster, fennel pollen, lemon thyme
Knuckle and claw only. The tails go to the staff, which is the honest answer.
- IX
Aged duck, black fig, long pepper
Dry aged twenty-one days, carved at the counter by Marcus, two cuts each.
- X
Celery root, black truffle, hazelnut
The one course that does not leave the menu between November and March.
- XI
Comte, thirty-six months
One wheel, cut in front of the room. Ask in the morning if you want it.
- XII
Raw milk, honeycomb, frozen chamomile
Milk from a herd of forty in Columbia County. The chamomile is kept in the freezer, not the fridge.
- XIII
Pear, verjus, brown sugar ice
Our own verjus, pressed from the September drop and held back a year.
- XIV
Canele, still warm
Two each, wrapped in paper. Rina pulls them at 8:05 and not before.
Prices are per guest, before tax. Service is included and there is no tipping line on the check.
The pairing, and what is under the sidewalk
Six pours across fourteen courses, about a bottle between two people. Elias pours them in the order the kitchen cooks, not the order the list is written.
Chastain-Vey, Sainte-Anne
Poured standing, before you sit down. Disgorged in March, so it is still tight enough to wake you up.
Domaine Ferrand-Loup, Sancerre
With the four cold courses. Fourteen months on the lees, which is why it can stand next to the kombu.
Maison Bertaux-Nivelle, Meursault Tessons
With the turbot. Decanted at 6:40 at the end of the counter, forty minutes before it is poured.
Cantina Pellegrino Nero, Etna Rosso
With the lobster and the fennel pollen. Chilled to 14 degrees, which surprises people, and then does not.
Weingut Halder, Riesling Kabinett
With the duck and the black fig. The only sweet pour of the night, and eight years old on purpose.
Clos de la Vieille Route, Banyuls
With the honeycomb. Half a glass, and the last thing we pour before the canele.
Four thousand bottles under the pavement
The vault was already here when we signed the lease. It runs under the sidewalk on the Barrow Street side, holds at 55 degrees without a compressor, and it is the reason we took the building.
The list is 1,140 references and about 4,200 bottles. We buy in threes: one to pour, one to keep, one to find out what a third year does to it. Ninety-six wines are open by the glass on any given night, because we are opening them for the pairing anyway.
Twelve seats around the pass
There is no dining room. The counter wraps the kitchen, close enough to hear the sauce hit the pan and to be handed a plate by the person who cooked it.
Every seat sees every course made. Seat one and seat twelve get the same food at the same minute, which took two rebuilds of the pass to make true.
Seatings at six and nine. The evening runs a little over two hours, and we will pace you faster if you tell us you have somewhere to be.
Eighteen feet of white oak, one plank, 2.5 inches thick. Oiled every Sunday morning before the produce arrives.
Twelve, at 26 inches apart, 38 inches high, with a back on every stool because two hours is a long time without one.
Four induction rings, one hearth, one plancha, no salamander and no microwave. Nine feet of it is in front of you.
62 decibels at the counter during service, measured at seat six. Records are chosen by whoever is on fermentation that week.
Nine shapes, all hand blown, 340 pieces on the shelf. We break about sixty a year and count every one.
2700 Kelvin overhead on a dimmer that only Nour touches, plus one candle per two guests, lit at 5:35.
Everything you eat tonight was decided this morning.
Seven people, one room
Four in the kitchen, two in the room, one on fermentation and prep. Nobody at Solenne only does one job, and the person who cooked your course is usually the person who hands it to you.
Solene Aubert
Chef and owner
Opened the counter in 2022 after nine years on the line in Lyon and two in Copenhagen. Writes the menu at seven every morning, on paper, and cooks the fish station herself five nights a week.
Marcus Idowu
Chef de cuisine
Runs fire. Carves the duck in front of the room, which he says is the hardest ten minutes of the night, and has trained everyone else on the pass to do it in case he is not there.
Rina Takeda
Pastry
Two courses and the canele. Pulls the last bake at 8:05 so it reaches you warm, and keeps the chamomile frozen because she thinks refrigeration flattens it.
Owen Nakashima
Fermentation and prep
Keeps the starter, the verjus, the kombu cure and the log book. Arrives at six in the morning, leaves before the first guest, and has never once let the starter go a day unfed.
Elias Corbin
Head sommelier
Built the list from 40 references to 1,140. Takes two guests down to the vault each seating while the duck rests, and will happily talk you out of the expensive pairing.
Nour Haddad
Maitre d'
Holds the book, answers the phone, lights the candles at 5:35 and remembers what you could not eat last time you came. The dimmer is hers and hers only.
Before you come
Everything we would tell you on the phone, written down so you do not have to call.
Hours
Wednesday through Saturday. Seatings at 6:00 and 9:00. The late counter from 9:40 until midnight. Closed Sunday through Tuesday, and the first two weeks of August.
Arriving
12 Greenwich Mews, between Barrow and Morton. The door is unmarked; look for the brass ring. Valet from 5:30 at the corner of Barrow, 45 dollars a car. The 1 to Christopher Street is four minutes on foot, the A, C and E at West 4th about nine.
Booking and cancellation
The month ahead opens on the first at noon Eastern, and the counter usually goes the same day. Seats are prepaid in full at 265 a guest and transferable to anyone you like, no notice needed. Full credit with 72 hours' notice, held for six months; inside 72 hours we will fill the seat from the waitlist and credit you if we can.
Allergies
Tell us when you book, not when you sit down. The kitchen adapts to most restrictions with two days' notice. Shellfish and dairy run through the whole menu, and we cannot cook a version of it without fish.
Dress
Come as you like. The room is candlelit and nobody is checking your shoes.
Children
Anyone who will sit at a counter for two hours and ten minutes is welcome. We have no high chairs and no separate menu.
Questions we get
No, because it is written the morning of and the version on this page is last night's. What we can tell you is the shape, and the shape does not move: four cold courses, bread in the middle, five over fire, cheese if you asked, three sweet, and the canele to take home.
Two hours and ten minutes at the six o'clock, a little less at nine because the kitchen is already warm. If you have a curtain or a sitter, tell Nour when you book and she will pace the whole counter around you without anyone noticing.
Six pours across fourteen courses, about a bottle between two people, at 145 a guest. If you would rather drink one thing all night, Elias will find it and we will charge you for the bottle instead. He has talked more people out of the reserve pairing than into it.
We hold the seat fifteen minutes and then begin without you, because eleven other people booked six o'clock. You will come in around course three and we will bring the first two cold, together, while you catch up.
Yes, with two days' notice, and it is a genuinely different fourteen courses rather than the same menu with things lifted off it. Vegan we can take to about course eleven before it stops being as good as what we serve everyone else, and we will say so rather than send it out.
Reservations
Seats for the month ahead open on the first, at noon Eastern. The counter tends to go within the day; the salon holds a little longer, and the waitlist moves more than people expect.
Reserve a seatTwelve seats · 6:00 and 9:00 · 265 a guest, prepaid and transferable