Trondheim's first speakeasy, where chef's tables are hosted: one shelf of the bar's library swings open, twelve seats behind it, a single seating.
Five or seven courses designed for the evening, written that morning from what the day brought in. From the moment you walk in, you are introduced to our home and to the chefs themselves, who serve you course by course until the candles burn low.
The room behind the bookcase
In the main bar stands a wall of shelves, and within it a door that does not look like one. A quiet word to the bartender, a book that gives where the others don't, a soft thud as the wall swings open.
Below is the speakeasy, and beside it the room we keep for this: low light, one long table, and one of Trondheim's deepest cellars within arm's reach.
They didn't remember the room. They remembered the evening.
On the first guests of Hôtel du Nord, 1837
Five or seven, designed for the evening
One table, one seating, and five or seven courses designed for the evening, written that morning from whatever the day brought in. The chefs host it themselves, course by course.
The secrecy, the craft and the cellar are 1837 made tangible, the part of this house you feel rather than get told about. Come curious, and be careful who you tell afterwards.