Confession: I didn’t want to love Mister Charles. The newest restaurant from Duro Hospitality is also the swankiest—and that’s saying something, given the luxuries found at The Charles and El Carlos Elegante. The former Highland Park Soda Fountain has been transformed from an all-day, all-ages hangout spot into a money-drenched temple to hedonism, complete with marble tiles, statues, chandeliers, wine displayed behind glass, plants growing in urns, and beams of light from second-story windows.
What was my problem? Dallas’ dining scene has been doubling and tripling down on luxury lately. Menus are blurring together in a word cloud of wagyu, truffle, tartare, and gold leaf. You can hardly walk into a bar without tripping over a caviar tin. Now here comes Mister Charles, elbowing its way to the front of a jostling pack of style-conscious, status-aware new restaurants.
But here’s the thing: it truly does belong in the front of that crowd. Among Dallas’ new see-and-be-seen restaurants—Monarch, Carbone, Crown Block, Komodo, and all the rest—Mister Charles offers the best food and best time.
Go big or go home, says the decor, which looks like someone typed in the infinite money cheat code when they started playing The Sims. The menu sends the same message. It celebrates elaborate throwback dishes that went out of fashion decades ago: steak Diane, lobster thermidor, sole meunière.
The decor looks like someone typed in the infinite money cheat code when they started playing The Sims.
So we went big. Lamb loin Wellington for two is one of Dallas’ dishes of the year, with perfectly pink lamb hidden beneath delicate, flaky layers of puff pastry. I worried the dish would be too rich—it’s described as coming with both foie gras and sausage—but the pastry has a pleasing lightness, the lamb is wrapped in Swiss chard, and there’s a side pot of summery ratatouille.
Alongside that showpiece, we enjoyed a sophisticated side of roasted cauliflower topped with a salad of thinly shaved celery stalks and leaves, and a Caesar loaded with capers, chives, and toasted breadcrumbs. Beef carpaccio, topped with crispy fried shallots, herbs, and a spicy Calabrian chile sauce, is an excuse to bring texture to the party.
The wine list also encourages decadence. Its real mission is to serve up true rarities in collectible vintages. Some Barolos in unique blown glass bottles, dating back to 1957, are yours for $2,000. A “bargain” means something in the mid-$100s; maybe consider a white wine from Spain or Italy. If that’s a little beyond your limit, the cocktails stick to classic flavors done right.
There is one downside to the “go big” mentality. You can skip most of the canapés, one- or two-bite appetizers that cost $6 to $14. The cured salmon tart, served in a dainty little round shell and topped with salmon roe, is a winner, but the snacks served on brioche—including a mini egg salad sandwich tribute to the old soda fountain—taste so overpoweringly of butter and salt that little else comes through. It’s a surprising misstep from a company that, at El Carlos Elegante, makes these little snacks feel essential.
On the bright side, when I return, I know how to economize. Our summer meal at Mister Charles cost $500 for two people after tax and tip and with a superb Spanish white wine. In the future, I’ll probably skip the one-bites and double down on the sophisticated, generously portioned side dishes.
My budget aside, Mister Charles is well suited for grand, celebratory occasions. Even though we already had a glut of glamour spots, we needed this one, too. Excellence is its own justification. I hope Mister Charles and its lamb Wellington live on long after its out-of-town-based rivals have gone out of fashion.
This story originally appeared in the October issue of D Magazine with the headline, “Mo Money, No Problems.” Write to [email protected].
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