You might have seen on our Instagram a couple weeks ago that booking for Delicious Disney dinners throughout 2020 is now open. They fill up quickly, so I highly recommend making a reservation now if you’re interested. The next event will be a celebration of the 65th anniversary of Lady and the Tramp in June, and all dinners are held at Markham’s restaurant in Golden Oak, which is a fun locale if you haven’t yet had a chance to visit.
On Monday night, though, the theme was the 70th anniversary of Cinderella. After champagne and hors d’oeuvres in the lounge area (I was saving my stomach, but after hearing the descriptions later, I was sad to miss them; all of the bites were plant-based and sounded delicious), we were escorted into Markham’s, where we saw an adorable and meticulously crafted centerpiece on every table and, in the corner, a tiered, themed cake. Apparently these are Cinderella stock pieces that Disney keeps on hand for events such as these, but that didn’t make them any less lovely to look at.
At our seats were menus featuring the vintage movie poster on one side and a course listing on the other. The menu seemed tasty and fairly safe, at first glance—no odd flavors or foods that guests might be leery of.
The first course was a play on breakfast; the chef, who comes out and introduces each dish, said that he noticed they ate coffee, porridge, and toast for breakfast each morning in the film. So he elevated that with an aerated coffee foam on top of porridge, truffle toast, and pork that they’d cured in house. I loved the creativity here; it was my second favorite course overall. The coffee foam was intense, but it blended well with the porridge, and I could happily eat the buttery, earthy toast every morning. I wished the pork were saltier, though; it felt somewhat flat. Each course has a wine pairing (take a Minnie Lyft or designate a driver; these aren’t skimpy pours), and the pinot gris was round and slightly sweet with a clear apple taste, balancing the strong flavors on the plate.
Gus-Gus in a Cup, the second course, won for aesthetics; I will coo over anything served in a teacup. The soup, made from three meats, was deep, dark, and rich. But I missed the piles of gooey cheese that accompany traditional French onion soup, and I think it would have been particularly appropriate here, given Gus’s love for it! I also found the Vouvray a bit sweet; my mom, whose palate prefers sweetness, enjoyed it.
Next was Torn Pink Pasta, the best course in my opinion. Beets lended the pasta its color, as well as the scallop, which was brined in beet juice, salt, and sugar before being lightly seared. All of the salt that was missing from the pork in the first course could be found here, and it was a little overpowering. But the yellow tomato coulis was so bright and flavorful, and the expression of Cinderella’s torn dress as pasta is just *chef’s kiss* perfection. The Miraval rosé is one of my perennial picks; you can buy it by the bottle at the store in Epcot’s France Pavilion.
Course number four was paired with my favorite wine of the night, a pinot noir from Burgundy. French wine is where I have the most to learn, and I normally prefer bigger reds to pinot noirs, but this wine was delicious with bright red cherries grounded by earthiness. That latter quality was highlighted in the dish as well; the three kinds of greens dominated the plate. I appreciated the freshness but would have liked more of the pumpkin pie spice and acidity from the vinaigrette.
The intermezzo was magical, a Bibbidi Bobbidi Boo elixir that you poured over lemon sorbet to create a fizzy, glittery concoction that tasted like grape soda. You could eat it with a spoon or remove the fondant star in the magic wand on the plate to use the straw that formed its base.
The main course was a deconstructed Beef Wellington, stuffed with a garlic purée and covered in a red wine demi-glace, surrounded by puff pastry Roman numerals adhered with mushroom duxelles. If you read my previous post on surf and turf at the Festival of the Arts, you know I love Beef Wellington but have very high standards for it. Here, I felt like the concept of the dish overwhelmed the taste; I missed the thin pastry shell of the standard preparation. And as someone who likes her beef rare, I’m not often 100% satisfied with meat that isn’t cooked to order. The purée at the center of the steak added a distinctive note, though, and I enjoyed the Syrah that reminded me of licorice. The sommelier told us the vineyard is run by a father and son who hand harvest the grapes; I welcomed hearing the story behind the wine.
For the final course, they presented us with a Princess Dreams cocktail instead of wine, a play on a lemon drop with vodka, Prosecco, and—of course!—glitter. Dessert was another interactive experience; you broke apart the chocolate ball, mimicking the shattering of Cinderella’s glass slipper, to reveal the blueberry compote. The chocolate shell was a little sweet for my taste, but the other components were light and pleasant.
Just when you think it’s over, they bring out one last surprise. The pastry chef explained that since Cinderella ends with a wedding, they wanted to send us off with Jordan almonds as many weddings do. The homemade version of these were much easier to chew and tastier than the store-bought variety, and they were a great snack the next day. As we left the restaurant, we also received a photo of Walt from the archives, as has become the tradition at the close of Delicious Disney meals.
One-time dinners are rarely perfect, but these events never disappoint, with their imaginative takes on storytelling through food. The Cinderella dinner was exceptionally strong from a narrative perspective; the courses moved chronologically through the film, from breakfast to the wedding, while still providing the logical flavor crescendo.
The Discerning Disney Diner 