Discovering the Gallery restaurant in Marigold

By By Robert St. John / guest columnist
Jan. 15, 2003
Robert St. John is the executive chef/owner of New South Restaurant Group, www.nsrg.com. His weekly food column appears in various newspapers throughout Mississippi and Louisiana. If you have any questions or comments he can be reached at robert@nsrg.com or (601) 264-0672.   
I have happened upon a Deep South restaurant enigma.
In an era when restaurants hire publicists, image consultants and advertising specialists, when national chains spend ridiculous sums to acquire locations with the highest traffic counts, the Gallery restaurant in Marigold, Miss., (pop. 607) is a culinary anomaly and the exception to every restaurant rule.
The Gallery might be the best-kept restaurant secret Mississippi.
It is secluded, obscure and secret in more ways than one. To find it, you not only have to be looking for it, you have to know exactly where it is. The Gallery does more to remain anonymous than they do to promote themselves. I love that.
The Gallery restaurant is a tea room with a Mississippi Delta flair. While many restaurants are trying to serve dinner only, the Gallery is only open for lunch. Its exterior is nondescript and almost as enigmatic as its owners potters extraordinaire Lee and Pup McCarty.
However, the owners are much more than mere potters. Both are worldly and artistic bon vivants with a strong love of nature, family, food and community. Lee McCarty is the last of the true Renaissance men.
An artist, chemist, physicist, botanist, musician and raconteur, he has an infectious energy and magnetic personality. Lee McCarty holds court in whichever room he enters. 
Pup McCarty, a talented artist on several levels, is an extremely gracious lady and the backbone of a 48-year excursion into the pottery-making business. She is petite, quiet, strong and multi-talented. He's from the Delta, she's from the hill country.
Uncle Lee and Aunt Pup, as they are known throughout the Delta, are the patriarch and matriarch of the Mississippi arts. They set up shop in a Marigold barn in 1954 and have been feeding the kiln ever since.
Today, McCarty pottery sits in the Smithsonian Institute and in private collections and museums throughout the world.
After 40 years of attracting throngs of customers to Marigold customers on a mission to purchase pottery, but with nowhere to eat the McCarty's opened their own restaurant.
Some folks might see this venture into the volatile restaurant business as folly; those would be folks who don't know the McCarty's. The restaurant is given the same dedication, determination and touch as the pottery operation. Never have I been to a restaurant which reflected the life, loves, passions and personalities of its owners as much as the Gallery restaurant.
The restaurant, like the pottery studio, is surrounded by the McCarty's trademark towering-cypress wall. 
The high wall shields the visitor (and resident) from the plight of the outside world and creates within itself a garden paradise where creativity is allowed to flourish. Once inside, one is transported to the world of the McCartys. And what a great world that is.
The restaurant's service ware is all McCarty pottery from the entre plates down to the sugar caddy. There are only two daily entre choices. Each entre comes with an appetizer course, three vegetables and a dessert.
A map in the restaurant's entry hall lists three landmarks in Marigold: the restaurant, the pottery studio and the bank (After my wife was finished spending my Christmas bonus in the pottery studio, she needed directions to the bank).
We started our meal with a bowl of vegetable soup, a perfect beginning on a gray Delta day. We ate seafood crepes and chicken salad and then completed the meal with a beautiful caramel cobbler topped with homemade vanilla ice cream.
The highlight of our lunch was a vegetable side dish, Marigold Tomatoes. They are similar to an old-line restaurant dish, scalloped tomatoes (except sweeter).
I am normally not a fan of baked tomatoes or sweetened vegetable dishes. However, Marigold Tomatoes was one of the more unique and memorable side dishes I have eaten in years.
The restaurant is operated with a minimal but efficient staff. The recipes are closely guarded. Judging from the looks and responses I received when I asked for the Marigold Tomatoes recipe, they are guarded with so much secrecy that one feels the staff would need to travel by armed guard to a underground location where all of the recipes are stored (probably a safety deposit box in the Marigold bank where my wife was headed).
After several vain attempts to extricate the Marigold Tomatoes recipe from various members of the McCarty coterie, I decided to create my own version. The following recipe is my interpretation and a loving tribute to Lee McCarty's Marigold Tomatoes, one of the best Southern side dishes I have eaten.
The Gallery restaurant in Marigold is a Deep South enigma and a refreshing change of pace. Back from the land of cotton and into the land of pinecones.
Delta Tomatoes
2 tablespoons butter
1 tablespoons olive oil
1/2 cup onion, medium dice
1/2 cup celery, medium dice
1/2 cup bell pepper, medium dice
1 28 ounce-can tomatoes, lightly drained, diced
1/4 cup sugar
1/4 cup brown sugar
2 tablespoons fresh basil, chopped
2 teaspoon dried basil
2 tablespoons cornstarch
2 tablespoons balsamic vinegar
2 teaspoons Lawry's Seasoned Salt
1/2 teaspoon black pepper
11/4 cup seasoned bread crumbs
1/4 cup melted butter
Saute onion, celery and bell pepper in butter and olive oil. Cook until onions are soft and translucent. Add tomatoes, both sugars and both basils. Mix cornstarch in vinegar and add to tomato mixture. Bring to a boil. Add salt and pepper and pour into a greased casserole. Mix together breadcrumbs and butter. Top tomatoes with breadcrumbs and bake at 350-degrees for 30-45 minutes or until filling is bubbly and breadcrumbs are lightly browned.