Our Story.

Ember wasn't built in a boardroom. It started with a simple idea: cook great food, pour cold drinks, and do it somewhere worth finding.

We're tucked down a lane in a village most sat navs think twice about, and we like it that way. The room's lively, the fire's going, and nobody's in a hurry to leave.

Our Story.

These days Ember lives at The Chandlers Arms in Epwell, a village pub on the edge of the Cotswolds, and that shapes everything. We source as much of our produce from nearby farms and growers, people who actually give a shit about what they're doing. No shortcuts, no smoke and mirrors, just ingredients that speak for themselves.

What we do with them is a different story. British ingredients, cooked over oak and open coals the way we learnt in the American South, turned into dishes from all over the world.

Our Story.

The drinks follow the same lead. Our own cask ales, brewed at our small Warwickshire brewery. American craft beer we import ourselves. Cocktails built on Cotswolds Distillery spirits, made just up the road. If it's made with passion, we'll pour it.

Our Story.

The whole thing is driven by our founder, who cut his teeth on Savile Row before taking that same obsession with craft into beer, hospitality, and building things that actually mean something. The idea is simple, do things properly, don’t cut corners, and create a place people genuinely want to come back to.

At its core, Ember is about bringing people together. Good food, good drinks, no pretence. The kind of place where you come in for one and accidentally stay all night.