RESTAURANT REVIEW: The Marigold Club
A disclaimer right off the top: I am historically not a brunch guy. There are a number of reasons for this, the biggest probably being that I don't normally eat breakfast. To me it's a bit preposterous to have three savory meals a day... sure I'll grab a slice of bacon or a piece of cheese in a buffet situation while on vacation, but if I do partake in "the most important meal of the day", it primarily consists of something sweet like waffles, French toast, or fruit. This is fine for early in the morning, but by the time a normal brunch hour of 11 or noon rolls around, I'm already in luncheon mode, so I inevitably find myself ordering the lunchiest item on the menu (generally a burger). I also hate eggs, which obviously are an irritatingly crucial component of most brunch dishes, so that vastly limits my selection. And, not least importantly, brunch for whatever reason feels like a Dallas or New York thing, two cities whose vibe/lifestyle I don't particularly care for.
All that being said, on the rare occasions I do dabble in perhaps the English language's most recognizable portmanteau, I am usually pleasantly surprised. It also doesn't hurt that it is essentially mandatory to have some sort of alcoholic beverage during any kind of serious brunch. I'm not the biggest fan of mimosas (and Bloody Marys are perhaps the most disgusting invention in the history of mankind), but fortunately brunch is kind of like the airport... there are no rules when it comes to drinking or eating.
Due to a recent four-legged addition to my household necessitating some adjustments to routine schedules, my geographic dinner radius has dramatically decreased (temporarily, don't worry). To satisfy my love of food and incessant need to try new restaurants, as well as to make sure to give the readers the content they crave, I set out to find a good brunch to write about. The Marigold Club seemed to fit the bill: coming from Goodnight Hospitality, the group responsible for Rosie Cannonball and March (one of the five best restaurants in Houston), this fancy French restaurant by night doubles as a slightly less posh brunch/tea spot on weekend afternoons.
Located in Montrose right behind GH's other restaurants in the space that used to house Goodnight Charlie's, this building appears fairly unassuming... until you open the door. Inside it takes a moment to fully comprehend your surroundings: the Mayfair-inspired dining room is completely shrouded in green, with art deco furnishings and gorgeous floral chandeliers. Add in murals depicting cartoonish scenes from a French brasserie, and on the whole this could come off as a bit twee for a lavish multi-course dinner, but it felt just about perfect for a relaxed brunch earlier in the day.
Service is extremely friendly, if slightly unevenly paced. The menu is all over the place, making it rather challenging to compose the perfect meal (never fear, I did as good of a job as was possible), especially considering this rather irksome time of day. If it was lunch I would just order a sandwich and that would be that, but for some reason brunch carries an expectation of more. Maybe I just get in my own head. Anyway, enough exposition, let's talk about the chow.
A fun way to start things off were the Caviar & Potato Soldiers. These bite-sized rectangular hash browns were topped with crème fraîche and what they adorably refer to on the menu as a "boop" of Bulgarian Kaluga caviar. Simple yet delicious, the fried tuber was crisp and hot, the roe gloriously briny, and the cultured cream supplied a hint of tang. I only wish there were more than one per order, but I guess caviar ain't cheap, and it's a long cargo flight from the Black Sea with today's jet fuel prices. Thank god they don't have to use the Strait of Hormuz. (Note to editor: delete that last sentence if the war ends before posting.)
However, the Ocean Trout Crudo with ginger citrus marmalade and pickled cherries was a major miss for two reasons. Unfortunately this was too thickly sliced for a crudo, resulting in an overly toothsome bite instead of the delicate fish you would expect. And even more problematic was the accompanying jam. Of course this type of dish demands some acid, but this was a citrus blitzkrieg, overpowering the seafood and eating rather bitter, almost grapefruit-like. Quite disappointing, but it's largely on me for ordering from the dreaded r*w b*r (shudder) at this hour. I promise to channel my inner Tim Tebow and do better.
A much more successful uncooked protein option was the Beef Tartare with cured yolk, anchovy and citrus aioli, and English muffin as the requisite starch companion. Perfectly chopped steak was covered in a dusting of shaved parmesan, and the salty-acidic condiment added a welcome punch. Beef tartare is probably 1A/1B with tuna tostadas as the dishes I've written most about on this site, and out of all of those, this one was definitely the most generous portion of meat. However, the egg was somehow even more jumbo-sized, which caused it to be a touch on the slimy side, but you could stir it in enough to overlook that.
To honor the "br" half of brunch, we ordered a few pastries from the Boulangerie section of the menu. An Earl Grey Cardamom Roll with golden raisins and an orange glaze was a scrumptiously elevated and slightly less unhealthy play on a cinnamon roll, with the floral nature of the tea coming through nicely. And even better were the Bergamot Profiteroles with vanilla chantilly and dulce de leche. The orange-spiked cream filling had a tart, almost key lime-like flavor, which was brilliantly balanced by the intensely sweet caramel. This may be the best cream puff I've ever had, though I must caveat that I have yet to experience a croquembouche. My only note on these profiteroles – one of the best food words in the game, by the way – was the very slightly asymmetrical presentation of the three orbs on the plate, which was only an issue due to my obsessive-compulsive tendencies. Apparently someone in the kitchen did not share my neuroses.
Rounding out this unusual gallimaufry of dishes was the Chicken Milanese. An airline chicken breast was pounded thin-ish, breaded and fried, and garnished with a radicchio salad and chives. There were allegedly Kalamata olives in the mix as well, but I did not register them, and suspect that they were omitted (which was totally fine by me, as I don't particularly care for those drupes). The fowl was juicy and crispy, though I could have done without the bone. I sometimes wonder if the northern Italians ripped off Austria's Wiener schnitzel or vice versa, since they are basically the same dish (however, the undisputed king of the regional pounded and fried protein foodstuff is the Czech pork řízek, and I will hear no argument to the contrary. And since we are already down this Family Guy-esque tangentially related cutaway, allow me to say LET'S GOOOOOOOOOO to Czechia for qualifying for the World Cup the other day!! Pilsner is still flowing in the streets of Prague I'm sure). Anyway, this was solid enough, even if it was a somewhat odd choice for an entree.
It seemed overly decadent to order pudding after all that, especially considering that there was basically a dessert course in the middle, but I still regret not splurging for The Sundae Cart, a table-side extravaganza where you customize the ice cream of your dreams, with numerous delectable toppings available (including banana jam!). I might come back just for that honestly.
As I mentioned many stanzas ago ago, drinks are a must for this type of outing. Their Old Fashioned was fairly classic, though the banana-infused rye, cinnamon, and black walnut bitters gave it a slightly sweeter finish, and of course strong notes of my second-favorite fruit. And as America's number one connoisseur of tea, I had to order a pot of the White Wolf, a white variant with cedar, vanilla, star anise, black currant, and mint. This lovely, aromatic brew hit all the right notes, but sadly was served in a relatively pedestrian mug compared with the stunning porcelain cups and pots that I noticed on other tables who were there for the afternoon tea service. This is what I get for betraying my morals and signing up for brunch instead of tea.
Despite a handful of clear issues, I enjoyed this overall, though I am grading on a bit of a curve considering the meal in question. I am curious to see how their dinner service is, to taste their sandwiches and scones for tea, and, most pressingly, to do work on that sundae cart. I don't have a best brunch ranking because I honestly don't think I can name five brunches that I've had in Houston, but if that ever does happen, I could see this sneaking onto the list somewhere.
NEXT UP: The West Houston pizza renaissance continues