An elevator near the entrance of the restaurant's main dining room carries you to the higher level. It's an airy, white space with dark wood floors, a baby grand piano, and a large communal table in the center.
Off in the corner of a newly built stainless-steel kitchen sits a trio of immersion circulators.
The hot-water baths have become common in haute cuisine and are cherished for their ability to hold a specific temperature for an extended length of time, allowing for 72-hour short ribs and 12-hour strip steaks cooked to a perfect medium. A quick char on the grill and they're off to a table.
Sardelli pops a pair of vacuum-sealed salmon fillets into the churning water and sets a timer for about 20 minutes. When they emerge, the tender fillets glisten from the olive oil marinade. He tops them with a spoonful of homemade tzatziki sauce flecked with mint.
Wall-to-wall sliding glass doors lead out to a patio where Sardelli is growing sage, basil, thyme, rosemary, and flat-leaf Italian parsley. Yet the terra cotta pots holding small green pepper sprouts aren't doing quite as well.
"The sun is absolutely frying them," he gripes. "They do a lot better at my mom's house."
He pulls a few sprigs of basil and mint and heads back inside to chop them up and mix them into a salad of heirloom cherry tomatoes sitting atop cubes of watermelon and goat cheese.
As he stuffs peppers with a mixture of fennel sausage, onions, and toasted bread, he says he has yet to come up with a name for the space, but -- whatever comes next -- he always has a long-term plan.
"I own the property," he says of the land on which the three restaurants sit. "It's a good philosophy I have with my family and gives me the luxury of having a retirement plan."
For more follow Zach on Twitter @ZachIsWeird.
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