The Gloriette Restaurant in The Southern Hotel has been trying to open for lunch for maybe a year, but staffing issues have stymied Chef Steven Marsella. After a while, people tune out. The Gloriette would open for lunch whenever it did, and we would be regulars…maybe.
The truth is that The Gloriette is such a fancy place it seems we can’t go there as often as we did with its predecessor Oxlot. I can’t explain this weird personal phenomenon. It is not true of Tchefuncte’s, or Keith Young’s, or Pardo’s. Why must it be so for The Gloriette? I wish I knew, and maybe we will become regulars there again, at lunch.
We went in for lunch service ending the second week they served it. “Lunch service” implies a normal rotation, but that term today in the post COVID-era more likely means Fridays. In this case, The Gloriette is open on Thursdays and Fridays each week.
It was bright, and floral, and quiet, except for charming French music in the background. Also empty. I wonder if others do not feel as I do about the place. There is no other explanation. The food Steven Marsella is putting out is as lovely and polished as it is delicious.
I went wary that I might not find anything I wanted to eat on what I expected to be a spartan menu. With two exceptions, I wanted everything on this lunch menu. And it will take many trips to go through it all. I think the lunch menu is twice the size of the dinner menu. This is a most welcome surprise.
We started with an Oyster and Brie soup, with pieces of lardon and bits of Brie floating in it alongside the appropriately smallish oysters. This soup was so hot I burned my mouth on it, and that was after waiting for it to cool.
It was so rich, so creamy, so luxurious it was enough for a meal. I asked for a piece of baguette to dip into this bowl of luscious goodness wondering if and what I might be charged for it. Many minutes elapsed before it arrived at the table, and I immediately understood why. The chef had taken meticulous pains to execute the transformation of a simple piece of bread into something sublime. This piece of sourdough was toasted hard on the outside but was still soft, with enough butter melted on it to literally squeeze it out.
It was wonderful of course, but I wish I had known what the plan was because I certainly didn’t need all that extra butter for a dipper of a soup this decadently fattening. As it turned out, I was charged $3 for the piece of bread, which made sense considering the production, but I think the waitress should have told me. This meal was $78 including the tip, and I feel at that price point a customer can be spotted a piece of bread. I asked to be charged for bread at Tchefuncte's because I eat a lot of it. And the lobster bisque I dip it in is $9, whereas the soup here was $13.
I could have stopped after this course, but I had already ordered a small ham and cheese sandwich, called an appropriately fancy name, Toasted Jambon-Beurre Paris. It was half a hard-toasted sourdough baguette filled, or more like stuffed, with thinly-sliced grilled ham. The baguette was coated with a sauce of Brie. A salad of lettuces tossed in a perky French vinaigrette sat beside the sandwich. This rich and really filling sandwich combo was enough for a meal and a great value at $11. The whole sandwich was $21.
Tom had the Flounder Grenobloise with brabant potatoes. It was a gigantic slab of fish covered in bits of what seemed like coating but was butter-soaked Brioche croutons, with a smattering of crabmeat, served alongside small cubes of fried potatoes, all of this coated with and swimming in a lake of melted butter.
It would be impossible to assess the amount of butter in this very rich French meal. That is not a complaint unless you’re afraid of butter. Steve Marsella uses butter liberally, as Pat Gallagher does. Whereas Pat’s food is delicious and heavy in local flavor, this food is delicious and exquisitely light in flavor. The richness comes from fat: pure, tasty, delectable, French-inspired fat. Voila!
