You know that moment when a place walks a line between special-occasion and comfortable? Oak and Ember does that. It’s the kind of restaurant that wears business-casual well—enough polish to make you feel good about dressing up, but not so much that you feel out of place in jeans. It’s tucked on Becker Road in the Shoppes at Veranda Falls, a strip that hints at quiet nights and dinners worth savoring.

The head chef, Troy Hetzel, is the one manning the kitchen. I didn’t track him down in person, but the menu feels like his fingerprint—careful chops, clever sides, and just enough flair to keep things interesting. Whether it’s happy hour or a weeknight dinner, look for the grilled shrimp and spaetzle, the half-roasted chicken with salsa verde, or those steaks that really live up to beef dreams.
Service at Oak and Ember? That hits differently. The staff glides by with preemptive refills and waits on your reaction to each bite like they actually care. One night, I saw a table get a handwritten card celebrating an anniversary. Five seconds later—same for me. It’s like the restaurant remembered why I was there before I did.
Now, the dish that says more about this place than menu descriptions: the Bricklayer Steak. It’s a 14-ounce boneless ribeye that comes out seared to perfection, with crispy smashed potatoes that crack like a promise. Each bite delivers that smoky-char edge, that juicy interior, the kind you’d write home about. Then there’s the side of truffled mac and cheese—cheesy, silky, with just enough truffle to make your nose perk up—and Brussels sprouts laced with honey and bacon, where sweet and savory tango in the best possible way.
What impressed me most is how these plates feel hefty and homey, yet elevated. It’s a steakhouse that doesn’t scream luxury; it whispers “yes, you deserve this.” From grill to plate, the flavors are bold without being loud—balanced like a well-rehearsed band.
Happy hour brings options, too. You can sip something crafted on the patio, nibbling apps that are creative without showing off. But come dinner, go big. Oak and Ember plays confident guest—not flashy friend, but the one you want on repeat.
By the time I rolled out, full and grinning, it didn’t feel like a meal—it felt like an experience that invited you in and let you relax. Which, around here, is a rare and welcome thing.
