The interior of Marchand's, the site of the Vinoy's Sunday brunch, is gorgeous. It's got that 1920s elegance that makes this hotel so much more than just another cookie-cutter Marriott property. This dining room is built like a debutante's cathedral, with a central nave that must have seen hundreds of first kisses and "I do's" over the years, bracketed by two aisles lined with tables.
These days, a flowing, free-standing bar dominates that center hall, along with a Sunday array of buffet stations staffed by beef-slicers, fish-dishers, Benedict-assemblers and salad-tossers. Maybe because the space is so grand, a mere five food stations seems a little unimpressive. There it is, the first twinge of wallet-conscience. Even taking into account the extra leeway given to a Grande Dame destination, which the Vinoy definitely is, the cost is steep.
When I hear $50 per person, I expect — and deserve — brunch virtuosity. As pretty as it is, that's not what I find at the Vinoy.
There is a certain type of culinary craftsmanship that goes into a great buffet. Terrible things can happen to food after even the shortest stay in a steam tray or under a heat lamp. Case in point: the Vinoy's breakfast pizzas. The scrambled egg on top must have been cooked hard when the pizza was assembled; by the time it's sat under the warm amber glow for a few minutes, the pale yellow strands shatter into chalky protein.
You'll find the same problem with almost everything at the seafood table. Beyond the cold crab legs and shrimp cocktail standards, fish is tough to do well on a buffet line. Here at the Vinoy, it's just tough. Both blackened mahi (with mango compote) and blackened tilefish (on a tower of potatoes with "cajun" cream cheese) were overcooked before they even hit the table. Waiting for just the right person to pick them up hasn't helped.
Mussels and shrimp in coconut milk? Moist but chewy. Tiny chunks of andouille sausage and shrimp are tossed with fluffy grains of bulgur wheat that I can feel sucking the last drops of moisture from my parched mouth. It's Florida, folks, so this station should be the crowning glory of the Vinoy's morning feast, but it turns out to be the most disappointing of the lot.
That's not to say that the Vinoy's brunch is as underwhelming as the businessmen's breakfast buffet at the Airport Courtyard Marriott. The selection here at the Vinoy isn't nearly as extensive as I'd expect from price and the reputation, but there are a fair number of options. Let's work our way around the room.
Table 1: Cheese and fruit. Besides manchego, there are three cheeses infused with everything from mustard seed to apples and pears. The fruit — largely unripe, although the apples are good. Table 2: Breakfast. There are the basics — bacon, sausage and Benedict — but the baked goods are distinctly lacking. Bland mini-muffins and coffee cake that I could have made from a mix? Remember, brunch is breakfast and lunch mashed together. The "br" needs to represent.
Table 3: Seafood. We've covered that.
Table 4 — the meat station — is where this buffet shines a bit. Ignore the potatoes and onions; it seems like the starchy wedges have been cooked in a fryer and assembled with the sautéed veggies at the last minute, so there isn't much flavor. Fatty short ribs swimming in black liquid may not be attractive, but the meat is luscious and tender, and that liquid is lightly flavored with tangy balsamic vinegar.
Both duck and roast beef carved at the station are perfect, the fowl surrounded by a layer of crisped and decadent fat, the beef rare and heavily seasoned. Pork and veal on the other hand, sliced thin and sitting in trays, are dry, almost by necessity.
Table 5 finally seems to have mastered brunch technique. This station is filled with items that hold up well over time, including a salad bar where you can pick and choose and have it tossed fresh by the attendant. There is also moist and intense paella, a big selection of marinated veggies and typical tapas selections, as well as grilled plantain cakes topped with shreds of smoked chicken.
Food ordered from the menu may be the best option at the Vinoy. Tiny dishes like strip steak with creamy white beans are dainty treats that can be ordered individually or as part of a mini-tasting menu. Omelets are stuffed with tasty fillings, and waffles are drizzled with heavenly chocolate; too bad both are seriously overcooked. The caviar — American ossetra and sevruga — is surprisingly fresh. Am I being a snob by lamenting the lack of a non-metal spoon?
By the time I head back to fill my third plate at the buffet, I realize that I'm still hungry, but there isn't much left that I want to try. A few sweets, like malomar knock-offs topped by green shamrocks or chocolate-covered Chambord nougat, make it back to the table. This brunch is all you can eat, but I seem to have eaten all I want to eat.
Still, I'm comfortable sitting at the old wood table, sipping excellent coffee and complimentary mimosas, watching the dappled light of the sun travel across the vibrant green carpeting. Like I said, it's a beautiful room, and I feel more elegant than my jeans and Gap shirt should allow.
There are three pillars for a successful high-end brunch: incredible food, vast selection and superior ambiance and service. The Vinoy's got one of those covered, but the rest will make you wonder what else you could have done with your $50.
This article appears in Mar 14-20, 2007.