What is it about the road to hell being paved with good intentions? I intend to revisit so many places, but finding time has become like trying to rescue a strip of bacon from a pack of hungry coyotes. I've intended to visit The Marc for months. My initial visit was in April and, following that, I intended to spend time on their patio. Summer flashed past and replaced patio weather with scarves and fallen leaves.
I finally, finally, returned to discover a new menu that retained some treats (helloooo beignets) from my initial visit. I dive into a Basque seafood stew that arrives cozily contained in its own miniature pot. The delicate, transparent broth boasts mussels, prawns, fish and a few veggies. It is uncomplicated and genuinely showcases the clean flavours of the sea. A glass of pinot grigio is an obvious partner.
Steak frites caresses a succulent slice of medium-rare beef with devilishly rich foie gras butter. Salty, crispy and addictive fries are amenable to a delicate smear of aioli. A butter knife lazily slides through the meat's grain - a spork would suffice for meat this tender. The frites, though we cannot finish them all, are morsels of deep-fried happiness.
I alluded to beignets earlier. I wanted to - and would have - returned for these fluffy indulgences alone. Beignets are small, doughnut-like fritters that originated in France but enjoy substantial popularity in New Orleans. The Marc, keeping with Gallic and Cajun tradition, sprinkles these delightfully asymmetrical spheres with icing sugar and serves them hot from the fryer with tiny dishes of salted caramel and creme fraiche for dipping. C'est bon. C'est tres, tres bon.
I lament my apparent inability to conduct follow-up visits in a timely fashion but, in the interest of keeping this post concise and keeping up my propensity to casually toss in cliches when necessary, better late than never.