It will be 40 years this January since my first trip to France, and I still remember my first meal there with vivid detail — the sort of detail that eludes me when I try to recall what I had for dinner last night. By a stroke of good fortune, I was in Cannes for MIDEM, the annual international music trade show on the French Riviera.
Jetlagged but determined to explore, I left the hotel and wandered. When I saw a little cafe, I went in to get a bite to eat. The corner building had windows on two sides, with hanging plants in place of shades. I was seated at a tiny, marble-topped round table, and not wanting to risk mangling the pronunciation, I pointed to salade niçoise on the succinct menu.
The server briskly slid a white oval plate in front of me, with slices of baguette and ramekin of butter on a smaller dish. Every bite of the colorful composition — tender leaves of bibb lettuce deftly dressed, crisp haricots verts that disavowed my aversion to green beans, red-rimmed slices of radish, al dente new potato halves, hard-cooked eggs with bright-yellow yolks, briny black olives and chunks of oily canned tuna — was a marvel of simplicity.
The closest I’ve come to replicating that in Nashville has been every visit to Margot Cafe & Bar, which has consistently adhered to the principles of know-your-farmer and purity of product since opening in 2001. And then I met Lou.
The creamy-white facade of the meticulously restored 1930s craftsman bungalow — double-hung windows and front door framed in black — on grassy lawn under a tall tree is a welcoming approach to Lou, the restaurant that chef-owner Mailea Weger birthed in 2019. The San Diego native spent her early career in fashion before being drawn to hospitality a decade ago, working in the kitchen of Maison de l’Architecture’s Café A in Paris before committing to study at the Culinary Institute of San Diego, which launched her into cooking positions in New York, New Orleans and Los Angeles. When her parents moved to Nashville, she took the opportunity on visits to study the city’s restaurant scene. As vibrant as she found it, she still believed there was a niche she could claim.
The two rooms in the front of the house are loosely defined by a free-standing brick column anchored by a fireplace. By day, light streams through uncovered windows onto wood floors and white walls adorned simply with framed photographs and original art. On one side there’s a small bar with four stools and a scatter of tables; the rear wall of the main dining area on the left is covered in a lush floral wallpaper. Down the hall, past the swinging kitchen door and out the back door are more tables on a brick patio.
You may notice immediately, as my party of four did, that the round tables inside are seemingly suited to parties of two. And as we did, you’ll get over it. Magically, the small surface is just big enough for wine and water glasses, a votive candle, pre-set personal plates, linen-wrapped cutlery, multiple service dishes delivered just as a space opens and whisked away once emptied — the attentive service is efficient but not rushed. Miraculously, the table doesn’t feel cluttered, especially — ahem — if you put your phones away. If you prefer a side salad and single entrée such as the butterflied trout, there’s room for that or even the large-format platter of sliced dry-aged ribeye.
Peruvian lima beans
Weger is committed to natural, organic wines from boutique vineyards (primarily European) and to choosing not by the grape but how you want the wine to “feel.” Rely on guidance from the well-informed staff, who cheerfully bring multiple bottles to the table for tasting pours.
A boxed section — charcuterie, fish and cheese — leads the menu with a price tier of one, three or five items. We reached consensus on five of the 12 and added the warmed quarter-loaf of Dozen wheat sourdough.
The dishes will rotate with availability, but you can probably count on the salmon rillette — a dice of in-house cured lox mixed with rendered bacon fat (both byproducts of Lou’s popular brunch menu), formed into a puck, topped with a tangle of chervil. We had a sizable slab of tangy cow’s-milk cheese (from Bloomy Rind) with a plop of house-made jam. Thin slices of coppa were wrapped around spears of pickled cantaloupe. The table winner was the ball of labneh submerged in a puddle of olive oil and a splash of smoky salsa negra, served with toasted wedges of sourdough.
Build a meal from the right side of the menu, set into trios that segue from starter to vegetable to water to land. I am late to the crispy-rice phenomenon, passing it by on menu after menu. My tablemates insisted, and I’m forever grateful — though the bar is now set high thanks to Lou’s interpretation, which Weger says took her and opening sous chef Mike Kida two weeks to perfect. Steamed rice is mixed with saffron tea, put into a pan with highly heated oil and pressed down with a spoon to form a crust. That crackly shell is filled with rice and clarified butter, finished in the oven, inverted onto a plate, strewn with nuts, capped with pickled fruit compote and tendrils of green leek. All the tastes, all the mouth feels, all on one plate.
The Peruvian lima beans are my unforgettable takeaway from Lou — elevated peasant food of giant fresh lima beans cooked in beer, drained and spooned onto a lipped plate brimming with pale-green olive oil, with marinated red peppers, burrata torn into bite-sized chunks, urfa (I looked it up so you don’t have to — a Turkish dried and flaked chili pepper) and bee balm.
Croquettes — quintessential comfort food — are a recent and golden addition to the menu, three to a plate. Adhering to the seasons, the last summer cucumbers we had have now been replaced by roasted root vegetables. We misread the braised lamb and curry as lamb curry, but were pleasantly surprised with a mold of tender lamb bound with tomato jam and studded with pepitas, set in a pool of earthy curry.
Succumb to the chocolate siren call and you won’t be disappointed. The dark chocolate hazelnut cake is layered with sabayon, but it was surpassed by the chilled retro glass dishes of sublime ice creams — almond basil, cantaloupe sorbet and sheep’s-milk cheese with olive oil and salt. (This is a good time to tout the kitchen’s impeccable use of salt throughout the menu.)
Braised lamb and curry
Kida, Lou’s chef of four years, and his wife/pastry chef Sierra Cody have departed, with plans to open a small sandwich and ice cream shop. Paul Nguyen has arrived from California to take the helm as chef de cuisine, bringing with him deep experience in French technique, so expect Lou to lean even more to that culinary profile. Weger opened Lou Paris this spring and splits her time between there and here; operating partner Campbell Moore steers the Nashville ship.
In Lou, Weger has achieved a seamless synthesis of easy-breezy California contemporary and classic Parisian poise, fashioning an exquisite experience that bears repeating again and again.
