The Marigold Club

The Marigold Club commits fully to spectacle. Apple-green walls, colored glass chandeliers, a player piano working through classical versions of yacht rock, gilded wallpaper in a bathroom built for a dramatic cry — it's an Alice in Wonderland tea party rendered in full, and it never apologizes for the excess. That commitment alone makes it worth the trip.

The kitchen doesn't match the room's ambition dish for dish. The beef tartare looks sharper than it tastes, short on actual beef flavor despite its cute presentation. Portions run small across the board — a duck Wellington that could use more structure, a roast lamb that's perfectly seared but barely a bite. These are real gaps, not nitpicks.

What saves it is everything around the plate. Service is sharp, the room earns its reputation as a local favorite, and regulars keep calling it worth the money even when a dish underperforms. The sundae cart at the end is the kind of theater that sends people home happy regardless of what came before it.

Michelin has selected it two years running, 2025 and 2026. The food has room to catch up to the room. Until it does, the whole package still clears the bar.