Marc and Kristina design, source, cook and serve seasonal tasting menus in private residences. The menu, the table, the staff, the wine, the flowers, the pacing of the night. You choose the date and the guest list.
Somewhere between the reservation you can't get and the party you don't want to host, there is a third thing: a table in your own dining room, set properly, with a kitchen brigade behind the door and someone whose only job tonight is to read the room.
That is what Marc and Kristina do. Marc writes and cooks the menu. Kristina designs the table and runs the floor. Together they bring the staff, the equipment, the china, the glassware, the linen and the candles — and take all of it away again when the last guest has gone.
We start with a conversation — the occasion, the guests, the room, what people love and what they can't eat. Marc writes a menu against the season and sources to it: the fish that came in that morning, the beef worth serving, the last of the stone fruit. You approve the menu in writing. Nothing is a template.
The team arrives hours before anyone else — kitchen set, equipment in, table dressed, candles lit, menus placed. Guests are met with something cold in hand and something small to eat. Then courses, paced to the room rather than to a clock, served and cleared quietly by staff who have done this many times before.
You never see the kitchen. Every pot, plate, glass and linen we brought leaves with us. Surfaces are wiped, floors are clean, the dishwasher isn't your problem, and the house is returned in better condition than we found it. The only evidence is a menu card someone takes home.
“The measure of hospitality is how little the guest has to think about.”
Choose all of it or only the parts you need. Most hosts start with the menu and the table and end up handing over the whole night.
A tasting menu written for your table, your season and your guests — five, seven or nine-plus courses. Allergies and preferences are designed into the menu, never worked around with a separate plate.
Everything bought, brought and prepped. A5 wagyu, day-boat scallops, caviar, black truffle, dry-aged beef and fish flown in — when the menu asks for it. Nothing on your grocery list.
Linen, china, glassware, flatware, candlelight, place cards and a printed menu at every seat. Kristina designs the tablescape to your room and your occasion, then sets it herself.
Cooks, servers and a captain, scaled to the guest count. Coursed service, plates cleared without interruption, water and wine kept full, and one person quietly running the room all night.
Pairings chosen course by course — poured from your cellar or selected on your behalf. Or a complete non-alcoholic program built with the same seriousness: infusions, ferments, pressed juices, tea service.
Centerpieces, low arrangements, candle plans and ambient lighting, coordinated to the architecture of your home. For milestone dinners, full room design from the entry to the last course.
Marc buys the way a restaurant buys, not the way a party buys. Whole primals broken down by hand. Fish ordered against the boat, not the case. Pasta rolled and cut that afternoon on your counter.
Dinners are quoted, not ordered off a list. The tiers below are where conversations usually start — every proposal comes back as one all-in number with the menu and staffing attached to it.
Five to nine and beyond. Each course adds prep, staff hours and product.
Prime versus A5. Farmed versus day-boat. Truffle, caviar and dry-aged product move a menu quickly.
Plated service for eight needs a different brigade than nine courses for twenty-four.
Pairings from your cellar, sourced on your behalf, a sommelier on the floor, or a full bar.
Your china styled, or ours brought in with linen, crystal, candles and arrangements.
The Salt Lake valley and Park City are included. Beyond that, travel and lodging are quoted plainly.
“Twenty plates leaving the kitchen at once, and every one of them still perfect.”
Marc cooks. He trained in professional kitchens and spent years on the line before deciding that the best version of a tasting menu happens for one table at a time, in a room where the chef can hear the conversation. He breaks down his own protein, rolls his own pasta, and writes a new menu for every dinner he serves.
Kristina runs the evening. The table, the flowers, the candles, the menus, the pacing, the moment the next course should land — all of it is hers. She is the reason hosts describe these dinners as effortless, which is a word that only ever means somebody else did the work.
They work as a pair, with a small team they have cooked and served alongside for years, in homes across Salt Lake City, Holladay, Draper, Park City, Deer Valley and Midway.
The more you tell us now, the more useful our first reply will be. We answer every inquiry personally, within one business day.