A Quiet Kind of Precision
At Claud and Penny in the East Village, chef Joshua Pinsky cooks food that looks simple until you taste it and realize how little of it is accidental. He describes his approach as “simple and intentional,” a phrase that understates the discipline beneath it. “Every piece of thing that’s on a plate that was executed or manipulated or cooked is intentional,” he says. And then he offers the line that reveals everything: “You wouldn’t know it was there, but you’d miss it if it was gone.”
His restaurants echo that philosophy. The rooms are casual but thoughtful, the flavors familiar but exacting, the hospitality warm without affectation. Pinsky builds comfort through technique, not ornament.
Roots, Restlessness, and the Making of a Cook
Pinsky grew up with hospitality in the background. Born in Palm Springs, he spent part of his childhood in South Korea, where his father worked as a chef and later ran food operations on a U.S. military base. Food was steady and grounding. “Dad worked a lot and traveled a bunch, but when he was home, he made dinner, and that was always nice,” he says.
By high school, he was already in restaurants: a pizza place, then Subway, then whatever kitchen would take him. After culinary school, he headed west, cooking in San Francisco and realizing during a trip to Los Angeles, and a dinner at Mozza, that he needed to be in serious kitchens. New York answered that pull. At Momofuku Ko he found the structure, rigor, and speed that shaped him, as well as a long-running creative dialogue with future business partner and wine director Chase Sinzer. They spent years trading ideas about restaurants: Pinsky thinking about flavor and technique, Sinzer thinking about design, lighting, and the feel of a room.
In early 2020, Pinsky left Ko with a lease nearly signed. The pandemic halted everything. He and Sinzer started again, rethinking their concept through pop-ups and long conversations, eventually landing in a tight basement space in the East Village. Claud opened in 2022 and immediately resisted categorization. Some tried to label it a wine bar. Others called it French. Pinsky called it none of those things. For him it was simply a place built on intention, good ingredients, and food that made sense together.