We’ve seen four different restaurants in as many years in the seemingly perfect prime location at the corner of 13th and Locust streets. But despite the space’s history of grand openings and grand closings, we expect Bud & Marilyn’s, 1234 Locust St., to be around for a while.
Chef Marcie Blaine Turney grew up in Ripon, Wisc., and named the restaurant after her grandparents, who owned a hometown restaurant. That jibes well with the restaurant’s menu, vibe and décor, as it is a patchwork of throwback Middle-American influences — like you just stepped back in time to go to dinner at the house of one of your parents’ somewhat well-to-do friends circa late 1970s-early ’80s. The space is decorated retro on the stylish side of familiar and common, without ever being overtly or self-consciously kitschy.
Apparently it’s working, because on a Tuesday night, the place was packed with a more mature clientele than we are used to seeing in that area.
Wisconsin definitely shows its roots on the menu with small plates like the crispy cheese curds ($8). Here, the state-fair snack staple is light and airy in consistency and the dipping sauces, a smoked guajillo salsa and a charred scallion ranch, really pack a lot of flavor to elevate the creaminess of the cheese. The warm skillet bread ($7) seems like a dish inspired by the long, cold winters of Wisconsin, thick with hearty pieces of butternut squash, leeks, potato skins and cheddar. It comes across like a hot loaded baked potato in biscuit form — and it’s irresistible.
Entrées at Bud & Marilyn’s are massive. We stared in wide-eyed awe at the mountain that is Marilyn’s Fried Chicken ($18), piled high on a plate as it was carried to neighboring tables. We had Nashville Hot Buns ($10), a pair of sliders featuring the fried chicken — and if the massive half of bird we saw selling like hotcakes was anywhere near as peppery, juicy and hot as the sliders, people got their money’s worth.
We opted for the fontina and chard-stuffed meatloaf ($22) — which looked like it leapt off the pages of a vintage pressing of “The Joy of Cooking” — and it was equally massive, buried under a rainbow of pole beans and carrots, and dressed with a classically sweet and tangy glaze. Rounding out the dish were perfectly whipped mashed potatoes and a strong and assertive boat of mushroom gravy.
Desserts are just as oversized and nostalgic. The funfetti cake ($8), a towering edifice of vanilla cake, white butter-cream frosting, sprinkles and strawberry crumbles, was a vivid childhood flashback in every bite: You are on your Big Wheel. You’re at the bowling alley begging your mom for quarters so you can play Space Invaders. You’re at Toys “R” Us window-shopping for Atari 2600 cartridges. You’re watching “Scooby Doo” on Saturday morning with a bowl of Cap’n Crunch. You’re tripping on Pixy Stix sugar and playing with a Lite-Brite. You get the picture.
Hopefully Bud & Marilyn’s has a permanent home in the Gayborhood. Because if they leave, it will be crushing and depressing, like watching your parents get a divorce.