I couldn’t stand staying in Chicago for more than a week after I got back from Asia, so I decided to go visit my brother in Nashville. An impromptu trip turned into an impromptu meal, because of course the first thing I did when I decided I’d be going was look into any dining options down there that would be worth my time. That’s how I (very quickly) found Locust.
Previously named Food & Wine’s Restaurant of the Year and consistently ranking in the top 20 of North America’s 50 Best Restaurants list, it’s got plenty of noise surrounding it. Which made me nervous — a lot of restaurants wind up with reputations that outrun them through no fault of their own.
I check their website and see they’re booked out through mid-August, so I do what any respectable person raised on AIM and dial-up does and shoot them an email, like, heyyyy, I’m in town next week and want to give you two hundred dollarrrrrrsss
They respond, and there’s an available table for lunch next weekend! I say great, let’s do it. I’m sent a timed OpenTable invite to put the deposit down for two people.
“Wait, hold on,” I reply. “There’s no one coming with me, I’m a solo diner.”
It’s 4th of July weekend and I get no response. Realistically I was probably fine to wait, but I don’t know when I’m next flying out to Nashville, and simultaneously remember that I do have someone I can drag along with me.
So that’s how I ended up treating my brother to his first Michelin meal. Because of this, my neurotic reviewer cap wasn’t screwed on as tightly as usual, but of course I’m really glad he was there because:
1) I love him and want him to experience nice things,
and
2) I got to try way more of the menu with him helping out.
In that order. I promise.
The Meal
I never research restaurants much before actually going because I want a fresh impression. This one was interesting, because I had no fucking idea what to expect going in. It’s a restaurant named Locust, based in Nashville and owned by an Irish chef, which serves Japanese-inspired…uhh, Irish? New American? Contemporary?…cuisine. I couldn’t really tell, even after the meal had ended.
Skinny Tim — 8.5
Fantastic, good amount of spice, bit of a unique starter.
Chutoro Sandwich — 8
Crispy, fresh, spicy — it’s delicious, and the texture is super unique. The execution is very simple, and the flavors are too. I’m sure that was very intentional, but it’s also why it didn’t wow me.
Wagyu Tartare Handroll — 9
I skipped ordering this despite our waiter’s strong recommendation because I have discrimination against capers. Then they accidentally brought it out for us anyway, so we got it comped. Fucking score, because it was my second-favorite thing we ate that day.
I have no idea how that meat was seasoned or marinated, but it was fantastic. The capers were such a unique way to add some saltiness and depth to the flavor rather than the usual soy sauce/wasabi route. There’s some kind of delicious cream situation under the rice that I couldn’t delineate which is embarrassing because I just spent two and a half months in Japan. But I also love when a meal confuses me.
This was absolutely fucking fantastic, and is a must-order. And I’m not just saying that because it was free!!!
Scallop and Yellowtail Crudo — 9
This was my favorite part of the meal, and it’s probably one of the best crudos I’ve ever had. The herb oil was grassy in a good way, and the berries gave it such a delicious bitter, sweet, and sour contrast. Another must-order.
Bread — 7
Just a thick slab of Texas toast, and the butter’s nothing special. I’d only order this if you want to pair it with other parts of your meal.
Speaking of pairings, you can order caviar to go with everything. I know that caviar is often eyerolled at as a way to jack up prices, but I imagine it would have made the wagyu tartare handrolls even more fantastic, and probably would have elevated this too. Unfortunately, I didn’t have “drop the price of the deposit again on a tin of fish eggs” money.
Lamb Dumplings — 7.5
Zayn tried it first and giggled. I asked him what was so funny.
“You’ll see.”
I bit into it and knew what he meant immediately — it tasted exactly like our dad’s shishbarak, which is a Syrian lamb dumpling in yogurt sauce. Definitely wasn’t expecting to have such a nostalgic bite in a Japanese? Contemporary? Irish? seafood-focused restaurant, but it was a lovely surprise. I’m not claiming that the dish is Levantine — more likely Irish — but I do find it very sweet that we got such an unexpected wave of nostalgia out of it.
Docked a point for the foie gras — it felt stapled into the rest of the dish, but worth noting that I’m never a fan of foie gras in general. This was probably the poorest way I’ve seen it integrated in a dish, but, again, I have the hater’s bias here.
Crab Omelette — 7.5
This thing was huge and picture perfect, like a big delicious pillow…But we were stuffed at this point. Poor Zayn had to clear this one mostly by himself. I’m not sure if it was because I was full at this point, but for one of the menu items I was most excited about, it felt a bit underwhelming. Picture a crab omelette: that’s what it tasted like.
It pairs well with the bread. I feel like the caviar would have made this a much heavier-hitter too. I will definitely return when I am rich and famous.
I wondered why the chutoro sandwich, which was also relatively simple, felt more impressive to me than the omelette — I think because it was more texturally risky and unique. This really was just a very well-made omelette.
Kakigori (shaved ice) — 10
Earl grey creme, honeycomb candy, raspberry flavoring, vanilla custard base. I don’t need to write a description for you, just know it’s good. This is another must-order — like, come on, this spot is a weird Japanese hybrid baby. Get the kakigori.
Drinks
Daily Tea
I have no idea why I settled on tea for this meal but I’m glad I did, because the creamy oolong was very nice.
9/10
Black Currant Guinness
Zayn may have forgotten to ask for the black currant with it.
Zayn: *sips* hmm.
Me: *sips* hmm.
Me: I think it’s just a regular-ass Guinness.
Zayn: I think so too.
Me: Should we ask?
Zayn: What if it’s not and they think we’re stupid?
Me: You’re right.
6/10
Final Thoughts
The meal was simple and delicious without foregoing creativity, though admittedly it was the slightly more elaborate dishes like the wagyu tartare handrolls and the crudo that moved me more.
Service was casual and incredibly unpretentious. Maybe a little too casual, to our benefit, because we got that free handroll out of it. LMAOOOOO thanks again!!!!
The restaurant feels lived in, eschewing formality for identity — something that excited me with Den and disappointed me with MAZ. What I really loved about Locust was that it felt personal without needing to narrate its personality to me. And just like with Den, I found myself wishing I could inspect everything on display without getting in the way of the other diners and staff around me.
You can tell this is a passion project. It’s hard to pinpoint a clear “identity” throughout, but that’s irrelevant because you can tell the guy is just making what he loves. His appetite is the identity, and I’d return to Nashville tomorrow for it.
I wrote about this meal wondering why a menu that’s changed so much still managed to feel really cohesive, and I could spout off some technical bullshit I don’t actually understand about how the technique and focus on simplicity was consistent, but that’s kind of a boring answer, so I’m gonna wager a different kind of guess instead.
It’s admittedly a small projection of my own life philosophy — I think it worked because the person behind it was uncompromising in what he wanted to do. It’s kind of a je ne sais quoi situation. That type of execution can’t be manufactured, only embodied. “I did it because I wanted to.”
And maybe it feels cohesive despite that gung-ho approach because it’s underwritten by an authority that can only come through experience, and as a Noma and Catbird Seat alumnus, Moran has it. Not in terms of the accolades, but the experience.
What I mean to say is that getting to play with the menu and not stick to an established cuisine was earned, in a sense. It works because he probably intuitively knows what to risk and where to show restraint, and that was probably built off years of experiencing what could go wrong.
It’s a process that I often try to skip in my own life, and then get really annoyed when I learn there are no shortcuts. You’re telling me I need to pay my dues before breaking the rules?? Fuck!!!!
After Locust, I get why a lot of people say the only Michelin-starred spots they’ll go to are the ones with a single star. Usually lacking in the eyeroll-inducing pretension of fine dining, they’re guaranteed to give you a really good fucking meal.
(To be clear, I love the eyeroll-inducing pretension of fine dining, but I get that it isn’t for everyone.)
But I also love seeing people do whatever the hell they want. The results are often beautiful.
Visit Date: July 11th, 2026
