Our story
A room we wanted to eat in.
Salt House began as a conversation between two neighbours about what Avalon was missing — somewhere you could eat properly without dressing for it.
We opened with a wood grill, forty seats and a list of growers we already trusted. Very little has changed since.
The building was a hardware store, then a florist, then empty for two winters. We kept the concrete floor and the original windows, added banquettes along one wall, and left the rest alone. Most nights the bar fills first.
Our kitchen cooks close to the produce: fish landed up the coast, vegetables from the Hawkesbury, lamb from the Southern Highlands. Nothing travels further than it needs to, and nothing arrives on the plate that doesn't belong there.
What we care about most is the feeling of the room at half past nine — full, loud enough, nobody hurrying anyone along.
Bar seats are held for walk-ins every evening.