Nearly five years after Mill and Main first opened as a cafe in Kerhonkson—and almost three years into its life as a full-service restaurant—chef and co-owner Chris Weathered is still figuring out what kind of place it wants to be. This January, instead of retreating for the usual winter pause, the restaurant is leaning into a different kind of experiment: a month-long steakhouse pop-up that doubles as both a business decision and a personal culinary exploration.
“We usually closed last January for the month to rest and recharge,” Weathered says. “For a lot of reasons we weren’t able to do that this year. So the question became: how do we stay open, not burn ourselves out, and still offer something meaningful to the community?”
The answer was a stripped-down, tavern-style steakhouse—one rooted less in white-tablecloth excess than in nostalgia, affordability, and the realities of cooking for a small Catskills town in January.
Mill and Main opened at a time when Kerhonkson was already in transition, with longtime residents sharing the hamlet with an influx of second-home owners and weekend visitors. Weathered says the past three years have been a crash course in listening closely to both groups. “People here are not shy about telling you what they want,” he says. “Whether it’s, ‘This should cost less,’ or ‘I wish there was more seafood,’ or ‘Is there a steak on tonight?’”
That last question, often texted by a local electrician in his 60s, stuck with him. “When we do run a steak special, it’s always well received,” Weathered says. “And there really isn’t a nearby steakhouse.”
The January pop-up menu reflects that clarity. It’s familiar without being generic, indulgent without drifting into caricature. Starters include classic steakhouse openers like shrimp cocktail ($20), a wedge salad ($16), and buttermilk-battered onion rings ($12), alongside wings ($15) and a warm demi baguette served with steak butter ($8). On the mains side, a 10-ounce flat iron steak frites clocks in at $28, while the premium option is a 14-ounce boneless New York strip for $40. Both come with fries and house-made sauces, which range from porcini mayo and tamarind steak sauce to Calabrian chili honey and curry peppercorn, each available for $3.
“For me, it felt important that this be approachable,” Weathered says. “We’re not offering five different steaks at $100-plus. A $28 flat iron with fries feels reasonable. A $40 strip feels indulgent but not absurd.”
That same thinking carries through the rest of the menu. There’s a chef’s favorite half roast chicken with mustard, tarragon, and jus ($25), Faroe Island salmon frites ($26), and a portobello frites option ($24), as well as a $20 bar burger (or Impossible burger for $3 more). Desserts stick to the classics: a skillet brownie à la mode, New York cheesecake with lemon crust, and vegan and gluten-free cookies, all priced at $10.
The steakhouse idea is as much about Weathered’s own development as it is about customer demand. “I didn’t grow up working in restaurants for 20 years in New York City,” he says. “Mill and Main has really been the space for me to explore and strengthen my identity as a chef.” Cooking dozens of steaks a night—consistently, correctly, without any being sent back—is part of that education. “How good are you at cooking 25 or 30 steaks in a night? That’s something I want to learn.”
The bar program, led by longtime friend and professional bartender Ethan Gross, mirrors the food’s philosophy. Cocktails lean heavily into the canon: martinis, Manhattans, Old Fashioneds, Negronis, Boulevardiers, and sours, most priced at $15. Highballs are $10, and a “cheap beer and a shot” comes in at $8.
“It’s an ode to the classics,” Weathered says. “There’s no theater. No smoke, no infusions. You get a really good martini exactly the way you want it.” He sees the approach as a corrective to both overworked cocktail menus and rising labor costs. “There’s beauty in classics. People like what they like.”
That simplicity is intentional across the board. The dining room is dressed with butcher paper on the tables; service remains casual and familial. “We’re not a diner, but we’re also not high-level fine dining,” Weathered says. “I don’t see us as a place where you only come for birthdays or anniversaries. You should be able to come in, spend $35 on a steak and a drink, and leave happy.”
Early response suggests the formula is working. On opening weekend, Weathered was surprised by how quickly steaks sold out—and by how selectively people ordered. “We sold maybe two or three shrimp cocktails,” he says. “People just wanted the steak and a Manhattan. That’s been really instructive.”
As the month continues, the menu may shift slightly—perhaps a surprise premium cut offered verbally, perhaps fewer appetizers—but the core idea remains. January, for Mill and Main is about trusting restraint and finding pleasure in doing the basics well.
“This month is about streamlining and being honest,” Weathered says. “Making a little money, yes—but also learning, and having fun with it.” In a town where expectations are clear and feedback is direct, that may be the most sustainable model of all.
Happy to have Mill&Main in our town. Thank you for giving to the community.