The old building that houses Mark’s American Cuisine in Houston started as a Lutheran Church. The high arched ceilings, choir loft, and old Gothic windows pay quiet homage to the gorgeous restaurant’s beginnings.

Legend continues it was abandoned during World War I, and local octogenarians claim it came back as a brothel.

Since then, its been a broom factory, a nightclub, a “novelty” shop, and for the past decade has belonged to Chef Mark Cox and his wife. This perhaps is the most successful incantation of the building, as Mark’s American Cuisine is on the lips of savvy diners across the state of Texas - and beyond.

Wedged between a tattoo parlor and some used clothing shops, approaching Mark’s in Houston’s bustling Montrose district is a colorful event in itself. But once you step through the front door, the outside melts away.

The sanctified dining room is captivating. You aren’t in Montrose. You aren’t in Houston. You aren’t anywhere else. You’re only at Mark’s.

The short foyer to the hostess is packed with awards and articles arranged like puzzle pieces from floor to ceiling. DiRoNA, Wine Spectator, Zagat, Chaine des Rotisseurs. For me, it’s both reassuring, and problematic to see all the acclaim upfront. A bar which was already set high, is pushed much higher by the eulogizing of “holy experiences,” etc.

We were seated in the main dining room.

Note: the old choir loft is a smaller seating area aptly named “the Loft,” and there is a side room which is a bit quieter and more roomy called “the Cloister.”

The tables in the main room are extremely close together. Undesirable neighbors could be a nuisance. I noticed the servers had a precarious time of completing service properly; an arm across the table now again was unavoidable. However, aside from the tight constraints, the service overall was flawless.

Another hoop to jump through was noise. The main room is loud.

Originally designed to carry one quiet voice all the way to the back, Mark’s main dining room nowadays is a bit of an echo chamber. Thankfully, there was not any music adding to the bedlam.

The wine list was impressive, both by-the-glass and full bottles. Not overly expensive, but not cheap either. Just what you’d expect, really, with a few surprising bargains. We had a bottle of Oregon’s Adelsheim Pinot Noir for $64, after glasses of Bollinger Special Cuvee for $22. All tables were set with Riedel stemware, so this Chef-run, food-centric palace cares about the wine program as well.

The food menu was extensive. We were handed the seasonal menu, a daily Chef’s menu, and leaned in to listen to a lengthy off-the-menu menu. There seemed to be endless available ingredients from spices and herbs, to rare meats, and exotic seafood. But don’t whet your palate for anything specifically; Chef Mark does not like to alter his creations. For good reason.

Here’s where I join the legion of foodies who’ve been unable to resist writing an extended allegorical review on the divine experience Chef Mark delivers in his old church.

Lust: Our brief wait at the bar offered a front row view to the hearth-station, where two of Mark’s disciples faithfully prepared components like double cut bone-in pork chops, Muscovy duck, and blue-corn grits in an open fire. The bartender, a long term witness, described each dish as we watched, explaining in detail where it was going when Chef Mark popped out to grab it, as well as proselytizing over the look and taste of the final plate. I picked dinner twenty times before seeing the menu.

Gluttony: Hearth-roasted oyster appetizer from the Chef’s menu. Oysters are double-stacked on the shell, topped with spinach, leeks, a hearty douse of truffle oil, and tiny bits of perfectly crispy bacon. Bacon! Bacon and truffle oil together in harmony! Not to mention the shrimp and scallops that accompanied the dish (see below).

Greed: I did not share any of the New England Diver Scallops on the oyster app. Our server called them “diamonds of the sea” as they are rare, and expensive. They have a bed-of-roses texture delivering a luscious bite that is slightly sweet. There were four. We were three. I couldn’t part with one. My dining companions were thankfully ooo-ing and aaa-ing over their choices - Mark’s signature corn soufflé with a dollop of caviar, and a noteworthy bowl of velvety lobster bisque - so I got away with my selfish fulfillment.

Sloth: I was sad to see Grilled Atlantic Salmon on the menu, which none of us ordered. It is widely known Chef Mark is in the kitchen seven days a week, so it is doubtful he sees the raunchy investigative reporting on the Tele. Although I’m sure he’s wise to the abomination of Atlantic Salmon; I must think if it’s there, it’s selling.

Envy: Three servers descended upon us like marching ants, to the amusement of our just-seated - and presumably hungry - neighbors. Our entrees were placed down in faultless synchrony. I ordered the Muscovy Duck, served with hand-harvested long grain wild rice, beloved Chilean cherries, and papaya. The rice was a perfect al dente, as I’d requested. The skin of the duck was smoky and crispy, while the meat remained gloriously moist. The cherries and papaya accompanied their respective reductions, dotted around the perimeter of the dish. I could control each bite - sometimes more earthy and smoky with rice and skin, sometimes with the zip of cherry. Visually the dish looked labor intensive, with not one grain out of place.

To my right was a Trio of Kobe Beef: Kobe flank, Kobe skirt, and nine-hour Kobe short ribs. The beef melted in my mouth like butter. It was a Top Five All-Time bite. On the plate were potatoes fork-mashed with poblano peppers, a nicely roasted eggplant, and a drizzle of natural sauce.

To my left was a head-turning Spiny Lobster the likes of which I’ve never seen. The plate was a large silver platter that required much shuffling around of flatware to fit on the table. The lobster itself was scooped out and then carefully arranged back in the shell. The dish was a kaleidoscope of flavors with grilled vegetables, those diver scallops (!), huge chunks of crab meat, hearth-roasted shrimp, and an angel hair pasta in a chardonnay chive sauce. Chef Mark’s presentation of this dish is other-worldly. Totally unforgettable. Labor intense in it’s purest form. At $64.95, it was the most expensive dish on the table, but we agreed it was an honest-to-god bargain.

Pride: Dessert was a shared trio of crème brulee: butterscotch, coffee, and traditional. I was showered with praise from my dining companions for steering us into a house of high-cuisine that was righteous to a point bordering on supernatural.

Wrath: My dinner was on a Tuesday. I tried to make a reservation for Saturday on the way out, and was told they couldn’t fit me in for three weeks unless I’d like to dine at 5 p.m., or 10:30 p.m. There was no actual wrath. I wouldn’t dare upset the emotional balance of the saint-like dining experience this building had just bestowed. But I wished a wrath upon whoever held the coveted 8 p.m. reservation on my desired day.

I can say that we’ve joined the believers. There is a reason this restaurant is voted Top Ten in America by Zagat’s 2007 guide. There is a reason Chef Mark Cox was inducted into the Restaurant Hall of Fame. There is a reason reservations are needed way in advance.

And if you understand that food can be a religious experience, there is a pilgrimage that awaits.

Mark’s American Cuisine
1658 Westheimer
Houston TX 77005
(713) 523-3800
www.marks1658.com

- Review by Emily Resling (missing.an.i@gmail.com)

Emily Resling feels at home in restaurants and hotels. She’ll eat anything she’s never heard of, and stay anywhere with a proper lock (though she prefers a concierge, a spa, and turn-down service). Her passion for culinary adventure is matched by her lust for writing about it, in hopes of guiding fellow foodies to uncharted territory. She feels fated to explore faraway places and eat local fare, which occasionally leaves her Seattle-bound plants ironically needing water.