The Marshal

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The other evening, my parents paid me a quick one-night-only visit, and some family friends suggested we meet halfway between the West Village, where I live, and the Upper West Side, where they reside. Hell’s Kitchen was the perfect compromise.

As a creature of Lower Manhattan, I rarely find myself in Hell’s Kitchen. In fact, unless there is an expressed reason to go above 14th street, I pretty much never do.

However, the neighborhood famously boasts some of the best food in the city–and my recent visit to The Marshal, on 10th avenue between 44th and 45th, proved that going to midtown isn’t always a nightmare.

The Marshal is a quaint little farm-to-table joint. It’s ill-lit, cramped, and loud (the Manhattan trifecta) but the food…oh my goodness, the food.

As soon as we walked in the door, a few dishes on a corner table caught my eye: a luscious looking Burrata and a plate of absolutely lovely deviled eggs. Once we were seated, I immediately ordered both for the table to share. Along with Mac and Cheese, an Apple Sunchoke salad, and cocktails all around. For my entree, I got a Cod En Papillote that made my head spin. This was going to be a good night.

The Marshal delivered. They provided food that highlighted seasonal flavors, that was sophisticated without being snooty. Even the most delicate of flavors were elevated to the tastiest of heights.

Next time I find myself forced to migrate above my natural habitat, I know where I’m having dinner.