Dallas’ Newest Brunch Haven Gets So Many Restaurant Things Right

I’ve longed to be a “Bruncher.” I don’t think it’s actually a word, but I’m hopeful you know what I mean. One of those shiny types that leads a life that involves weekend brunch.

You know that person. It’s easy to set-up their back story. They are neither boring nor too edgy. Salary places them squarely within the upper-middle-class or the working rich. Age is generally anywhere from post-college to current late Gen Xer. Most drive nicer cars (see: BMW 3 series, Lexus SUV or perhaps a Toyota Prius) and wear fashionable clothes, but once again, not too far from the center (see: Club Monaco mixed with higher-end Gucci Princetown slides — and that ensemble is for either a boy or a girl).

Does that sound rather vanilla? Actually no. I aspire to that life.

At my age (pretty much within the center of the Gen X range) I no longer want to rock the yacht. No longer do I listen to nonstop complaint-ballads and sullen classics from Joy Division. I willingly admit singing at the top of my lungs along to Katy Perry’s “Firework” every time it comes on my radio.

In essence, I just want to be continually happy with a delicious meal scheduled every Sunday morning around 11ish (alas I am not a church-goer).

When I first spotted The Henry, it looked like a welcome, chic addition to Dallas’ downtown/uptown neighborhood. That area has seen a lot of growth in the last year in terms of residential and dining options including Doc B’s, Tulum and Circo.

It was the first morning of daylight savings time and I had fretted that we (I brought along my partner) might be sluggish for our first experience at The Henry. However, even the gray skies, didn’t damper our spirits.

The valet line was seamlessly quick with a request for our cellphone number instead of a paper receipt (this is actually a new technology trend that I like) and then up to the restaurant we went. The entryway was bustling, but not annoyingly crowded.

After an efficient check-in for our 12 pm reservation, we were shown to our booth. I had studied the menu in advance and had been intrigued by a few items so I planned on ordering quite a bit, but at a leisurely pace as to soak up the ambiance and size-up the other diners — those “brunchers” I wanted to study in their original habitat.

To riff on Carrie Bradshaw’s love of a column that starts out with a question: Does brunch equal young? Not the case at The Henry that Sunday. I was pleasantly surprised to see we were definitely not the youngest, but also definitely not the oldest.

Yes, likely the median age of the room was somewhere between 27 to 32. I saw some other Gen-X’rs and a handful of Baby Boomers. It was also not a lily-white crowd. An impressive amount of diversity was apparent that reaffirmed my belief that Dallas is becoming more and more cosmopolitan by the moment.

I observed quite a few large tables of only girls. Perhaps they got together regularly (like the Sex and the City crew) for their weekly catch-up or were there to celebrate an upcoming wedding or baby via a brunch shower.

These ladies were Dressed with a capital D. No Lululemon or athletic wear in sight. Also, no one left their condo that morning without full makeup. It was the largest assembly of Louis Vuitton bags I had ever seen, in every style, although totes seemed the bag of choice.

A smattering of couples were there (so me and my partner weren’t the only ones seemingly on a date), but mainly in groups, so perhaps on a double date. The requisite gay contingency was apparent. They normally travel in packs of three with often a Kate Spade bag carrying girl in tow.

The Henry Scene

The interior of The Henry has a sumptuous, clubby atmosphere with muted tones of blue and gray. Paintings (likey unoriginal — one negative response on my part) are hung salon style. On my visit to the restroom (yes, I always check out those interiors as well) I was impressed by the high-end finishes and fixtures and devoid of the institutional cleaning scent found in many Dallas washrooms.

On my way back to the table, I decided to be nosy and check out the upstairs. On the second floor of The Henry one will find an ample, yet still intimate bar area. One wall caught my eye with its well-curated selection, done almost like wallpaper, of vintage magazines.

My all-time favorite, Interview, had a few great covers on display and then I smiled wide when I spied the 1970s era cover of Time with “TV’s Super Women,” Charlie’s Angels. A little Farrah and her hair go a long way on a Sunday morning towards putting me in a good mood.

Directly adjacent is a beautiful balcony area with an unobstructed view of the surrounding urban neighborhood. I thought at first that each seating area had its own video screen, but upon closer observation realized they were high-tech space-age heaters.

Rare can one find an outdoor seating area in Dallas that will be comfortable for three fourths of the year. I am guessing that this outdoor lounge will be cool in the summer and warm in the winter and I plan on adding it to my watering-hole go-to list.

Our server, Taylor, introduced herself and proceeded to share some of her favorite items from the menu. We learned that she had been brought to Dallas from Phoenix (where restaurant’s corporate Fox Restaurant Concepts headquarters are located) to assist in The Henry’s opening and to train new staff.

One of the other aesthetic details that immediately caught my attention was the server’s outfits. I have been having issues of late with various establishments around town and what the staff is wearing. Often it just seems either trashy (advice to restauranteurs out there — for my meals I don’t want service from someone completely adorned in tattoos) or too generic, devoid of personality.

Not at The Henry. Staff, regardless of gender, wear a blue shirt, dark pants and a blue silk-knit square bottom tie. I am all about the details and the mere fact that the tie is one that I associate with old-school preps and rakish Italian playboys was brilliant. Those, said ties, are then fastened towards the bottom with the most whimsical of tie-bars, one fashioned from an espresso spoon.

The Food

The first dish to appear was the house-made pretzels and cheese fondue. We had been expecting slightly hard, or only semi-soft, dark brown versions one might find at a mall food court. These fluffy confections had just the right amount of salted glaze to complement the buttery, creamy cheese fondue. These would be perfect with a beer at happy hour.

I can’t believe I just said that since I am not normally a beer drinker. Perhaps this “Bruncher” lifestyle is already informing my taste and choices.

Next up we had the smoked Norwegian salmon.  Served with soft egg, crème fraîche, watercress, on toast, they were light enough to keep our appetites intact for the many dishes on their way.

I forgot to mention the whimsical bloody Mary and mimosa cart that had been making its way around the room as we ate. Filled with every add-on imaginable, from bacon to celery to okra to fresh garlic.

At this point, my partner decided to switch from his fruity craft mimosa to something that had intrigued him on the cocktail menu, the Italian mezcal sour. Made of banhez mezcal, añejo tequila, spiced curaçao, lemon & lime, splash Lambrusco it was the highlight of his meal.

An aficionado of mezcal, he had never found a cocktail that incorporated the liquor in a way that seemed complementary. I will add that the visual presentation was vibrant as it seemed layered in burgundy and creme. He also enjoyed that the flavors of the cocktail seemed to enhance the flavors in the dish that was currently in front of us, the black kale and pink lady apple salad.

As we were still feeling the in-betweenish phase of breakfast and lunch we switched course back to an early morning mainstay, French toast. The Henry’s version is made of bread pudding and enhanced with caramel apple, chantilly cream, and pecans. It looks deceptively rich and sweet, but I was pleased that it was not at all overpowering.

Back to lunch’ish options with the next dish — short rib potstickers. I had read about the popularity The Henry’s Asian-fusion offerings. However, the description did not do the delicate dumplings justice. Think melt in your mouth short rib meat married with toasted sesame and yuzu ponzu sauce. I plan on ordering it on every visit in the future.

We ended our gluttonous, almost two-hour journey through The Henry’s menu with its Korean prime skirt steak. Made of the tender meat and double egg fried rice, bok choy, snow pea, pickled shiitake and spicy ginger butter, it was the perfect close to our meal.

We exited The Henry through the back area which serves as the restaurant’s grab-and-go coffee shop. I was impressed with the fresh baked goods and tasty caffeinated options. I was so taken with the café-within-a-café that I arranged to meet a friend there the following Tuesday for a 9 am meeting.

So, do I feel like I am well on my way to becoming a card-carrying “Bruncher?” Yes and no.

I’m hopeful that I won’t have too many late nights ahead that prevent me from looking the part of shiny, upwardly-mobile, clever (but not MENSA card-carrying), earnest recycler on Sunday mornings. I already have the outfits in my wardrobe.

However, maybe I don’t want to fully relinquish my edgy side and keep brunching to one season a year, the one with the most pleasant weather — I guess in Dallas that means you’ll see me in April and May.