The Stockton Inn’s Triumphant Return Is Rooted in Its 300-Year History

A biting breeze blew off the Delaware River as I walked up Bridge Street to the newly restored Stockton Inn. From beam to banister, this 314-year-old landmark recently underwent a two-year renovation after nearly a decade in disrepair. Its Dog & Deer Tavern reopened in September, a boutique hotel debuted in November and, on Thursday, Dec. 12, the finale: a coastal Italian restaurant called Finch. 

Once an institution for artists and socialites like F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Algonquin Round Table and Jackie Kennedy Onassis, now, the Stockton, New Jersey compound again gleamed in the December darkness. Beneath the rich umber and stone façade, a path to the side entrance and sprawling backyard restaurant—buzzing with patrons at the heated bar—flickered in the glow of gaslight lanterns. Inside, the warm aroma of a crackling fire and an ebullient guest manager greeted me.

To the left of check-in, the 13-table dining room, Finch, floats on ivory marble and glass, tethered only to a once-crumbling, now-imposing stone hearth. The river-facing tavern is dim for the pre- and after-dinner sets, with walls papered in nocturnal blooms and staff pacing methodically in Mandarin-collared linen shirts and emblemed tees. The boutique carriage houses and second-story guest rooms are well-appointed with designer details and community craftsmanship. But to those who pause, who wander the narrow passageways, who listen to the hum of the building itself, the inn exceeds its status as a must-make reservation or restorative getaway. It’s an icon that possesses the pulse of a bygone era.

The original structure was built in 1710 as a private residence before the construction of the D&R Canal from 1831 to 1834 called for a tavern and inn. By the Roaring Twenties, it was called Colligans (owned by two Stockton families, the Colligans and Weisses). Through 2014, ownership only changed twice until a sudden closure muted the lively hub for nearly a decade. It sat among neighboring New Jersey river towns like Lambertville and Frenchtown, as well as New Hope, PA—all celebrated for antiquing, art, Pride, historic architecture and exceptional culinary talent—still and abandoned.

In 2022, inspired by the history of the town’s stately gem, local couple Steven Grabowski and Cheryl Olsten purchased the inn and brought on an eclectic, James Beard Award-bearing team to revive centuries of stories in a new, luxurious space. 

“When we first walked through the interior, the question was, ‘What does the building need? Does it need a preservation or does it need an evolution?’” managing director Anthony Rudolf told Observer. “Everything started falling when we took things out—decaying beams, crumbling fireplaces. Every stone wall had been touched and pulled apart and put back together. So much of what to keep was decided by what was structurally sound. A lot of that gave us the freedom to try new things.”

Rudolf, a James Beard Award-winner whose 20 years of hospitality expertise includes leading Per Se and Jean-Georges to four-star New York Times reviews and several Michelin stars, joined the owners to get the inn up and running. During the process, however, the former Bucks County local and entrepreneur fell in love with the project and community, and decided to make a temporary role a long-term one. 

“Stepping back on the property, it really is very special. You can feel it. There was a sense of home for me,” Rudolf told Observer. “Our aim on the interiors was to be timeless. If you came here 50 years from now, you would still feel a sense of place without it feeling dated to an era. Respect and honor the past while pushing into modernity.”

Through the ages, the Stockton Inn has created a sense of place for forward-thinking creatives and served the kind of wild quiet that lured folks from cities to the sleepy streets along New Jersey and Pennsylvania’s Delaware River. During Prohibition, it was rumored that a speakeasy thrived in the basement, where decades earlier, a secret cranny was used to protect enslaved refugees escaping to freedom. In the garden, a wishing well, which still stands today, was the inspiration for Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart’s 1936 Broadway song, “There’s a Small Hotel,” recorded by greats like Frank Sinatra and Ella Fitzgerald. Margaret Mitchell wrote part of “Gone with the Wind” during her stay, and jazz bandleader Paul Whiteman was a regular. 

In mid-September, Rudolf and his team opened the Dog & Deer Tavern, named for the Colligan brothers’ St. Bernard dog and pet deer that hung out in the bar (yes, behind the bar). In mid-November, they debuted nine hotel rooms in the carriage house, circa 1850 wagon house and the main house—where, originally, there were eight with communal bathrooms, which have now been renovated into four rooms with private amenities. On Dec. 12, they debuted the fine-dining option, a coastal Italian restaurant from James Beard Award semifinalist chef Bob Truitt, formerly of Marea, Ai Fiori, Corton, El Bulli and The Wilder.

The guest rooms and suites, which hadn’t been used since around 2010, are now meticulously adorned. The design is airy yet textured—merging original details with modern ones. Above a porcelain soaking tub is a flame-licked beam from a hundred-year-old fire. Cloud-like Japanese globe pendants levitate over king-size beds dressed in white linen. Vintage photographs, including one of state hero Bruce Springsteen, bring the space to the present. The design team also honored the inn’s history of local craftsmanship by hiring nearby artisans to restore the beams, build the bar and add intimate details. For example, a potter from the town over etched custom clay vases with delicate finches for the namesake restaurant, which can be found throughout the rooms.

Finch, The Dog and Deer Tavern, a private dining area that seats up to 16 for bookable events and a future supper club are all located in the main house. Baroque velvet curtains lead to a guests-only lounge with an honor bar, stately fireplace and hand-painted landscape wallpaper that transports those enveloped within it back to the 1800s. Each distinct area vibrates with vitality—not just from the packed tables and bustling waitstaff, but because the Stockton Inn invites it.

In the tavern, chef Truitt delivers elevated pub fare with mains like mussels topped with smoky trout roe and beurre blanc and a patty melt on toasty caraway rye, which graciously reabsorbs the burger’s juices, along with caramelized onions, sharp Dijon and comté. Poppy-seeded brioche rolls steam when pulled apart and complement other staples, such as tuna tartare with house-made chips so airy they nearly defy gravity and a classic yet herbaceous wedge with thick Nueske’s bacon.

Outside in the Colligans’ old garden restaurant, a second tavern bar and dining area remain open year-round. Heaters make the sprawling space—set with light wood tables and lounge chairs, blankets and ivory sheepskin—enjoyable on dark, wintry nights. The bar program is run Brian Miller, who shapes the cocktail and mocktail menu with history and creative, hand-made tinctures.

 “I am trying to raise the level of cocktails for the community. I want people to care as much about what they drink as what they eat,” Miller, a self-described pirate who was one of Death & Co’s veteran bartenders and co-owner of The Polynesian, told Observer.  

Shortly after the New Year, Miller will curate themed activations in the alfresco area, such as an outdoor tiki night—capitalizing on his infatuation with rum.

“In the dead of winter, who wouldn’t rather be on a beach? Tiki drinks have a rich history around the world, and their flavor profiles are coincidentally founded in winter spices—like cinnamon, nutmeg, ginger, allspice and cloves. We want to present a lighthearted, tropical, fun-filled way to get through the winter doldrums,” Miller said.

Finch, which is already booked a month out for reservations, except for inn guests (who are granted a reservation despite capacity with their stay), may be chef Truitt’s tour de force, with its rotating seasonal menu available à la carte or as a $108 per person prix fixe. The crudo, served in a palm-sized seashell, is made with buttery, sweet scallops sourced fresh from Point Pleasant, New Jersey. This, along with the winter chicory salad, are testaments to the chef’s talent—utilizing a range of ingredients to balance both texture and taste. With piquant watermelon radish, sea urchin, caviar-esque citrus and refreshing mint, each bite of the crudo was layered and exciting. The salad, offered in the colder months with a tableside drizzle of 30-year aged balsamic vinegar of Modena, delivered warm spices through each tender bite of Forelle pear, poached and chilled. The earthy chicory leaves played the perfect host to Cantabrian anchovy, finocchiona (a paper-thin Italian pork salami with fennel) and limited-production pecorino with sharp, walnut undertones. With a glass of the woman-produced Château de Béru 2019 Chablis, this dish became one of the best salads I’ve ever tasted.

While the inn doesn’t serve breakfast or lunch, the Stockton Market, just two doors down from the inn, does. In July, Grabowski and Olsten’s daughter, Dana Ashburn, opened the market as another component to this magical community hub. Ashburn’s market evokes the European countryside with a soft color palette, abundant floral arrangements and day-old boules used as tapered candle holders. In an industrial space on Bridge Street beside a towpath buzzing with bicyclists and folks out for a stroll, she bakes baguettes and pastries in the café with a daytime menu of rotating toasts, sandwiches, salads and the like. There is a petite fishmonger and fromagerie, selection of seasonal produce, shelf-stable staples like the locally grown and produced Nina’s Jams, quality olive oils, pastas and colorfully tinned sardines, in addition to gifts and homewares.

“Honestly, the best part about opening the market is seeing it become a community space, where people come and meet. We wanted to bring a place that had consistently high-caliber food for breakfast and lunch,” Ashburn said as she stood on a ladder, arranging evergreen holiday decorations and woven baskets. “Other river towns have it. Hudson Valley has it. We want to be that for this area.”

From the restored ceilings that cradle time in their beams to the artistic touches and thoughtful fare, this family, Rudolf and their team have, indeed, encapsulated what it is to be a special gathering place steeped in history. From the city streets to the sleepy corners of New Jersey’s rolling hills, the Stockton Inn and Market once again call to creatives and bon vivants, saying, “There’s a small hotel with a wishing well, I wish that we were there together.”