Our Story
Born from fire,
rooted in oak.
A restaurant a decade in the making.
A decade in
the making
The idea began not in a boardroom but around a fire pit in the Argentinian pampas, where a young James Whitfield first understood what fire could do to a cut of aged beef. That meal — slow, patient, unhurried — took five hours and required nothing except attention. It changed everything.
The years that followed were spent tracing open-fire cooking across three continents. Buenos Aires, where Mallmann's philosophy of restraint and live flame reshaped our understanding of heat. Copenhagen, where Nordic precision met raw instinct over hardwood. Tokyo, where charcoal is treated with the same reverence as the ingredient it transforms.
When we came home to London, we arrived with something specific: a belief that British produce — aged cattle from the Cumbrian fells, hand-dived shellfish from Scottish waters, heritage grains from farms we visit by name — deserved to be cooked with the same seriousness we had found elsewhere. Ember & Oak opened in Autumn 2024 with forty-eight covers and one open hearth.
Forty-eight covers.
One hearth.
The room was designed by the same hands that cook in it. Oak panelling sourced from a single estate in the New Forest. A bar cut from one continuous length of English walnut. Every surface was chosen to age well — to look better worn than new. The open kitchen is not a design feature; it is the centrepiece. From every table you can see the fire. It is always lit.
"We designed the room the way we cook — by removing everything that didn't need to be there."
Head Chef
James Whitfield
"I cook with fire because it demands complete attention. There is no setting, no timer — just heat, time, and intuition."
James began cooking at sixteen at a Cotswolds gastro pub, where he learned to read a fire from an ageing grill chef who had never owned a thermometer. At twenty-two he staged under open-fire pioneer Francis Mallmann in Argentina — an experience he describes as the most formative of his career. Three years leading the kitchen in Buenos Aires followed, then a residency in Copenhagen at a Michelin-starred live-fire restaurant that sharpened his understanding of restraint and northern produce.
Tokyo came next: two seasons studying Japanese charcoal cookery and the philosophy of allowing ingredients to speak without interference. He returned to London in 2022 with a clear mandate — British produce, open fire, and no compromises in either direction.
"There is negative space in cooking," he says. "The best dish is the one where you've removed everything that didn't need to be there."
Three principles,
no exceptions.
Provenance
We visit every farm before a producer earns a place on our menu. The relationship matters as much as the ingredient — we need to understand the land, the animal, the person who raised it. If we can't make that journey, we don't serve the ingredient.
Craft
Open-fire cooking offers no shortcuts and no dials. We have spent years learning to read a coal — the difference between heat that will sear and heat that will scorch. That knowledge is our technique. Everything else is removed until only the fire and the ingredient remain.
Hospitality
A meal here should feel effortless. We handle every detail — the wine, the pacing, the exact moment between courses — so the only thing required of you is to be present. A great dinner leaves you feeling hosted, not merely fed.