The Thompson Nashville Review
Marsh House, L.A. Jackson, and a Perfect Weekend in The Gulch
THE DRIVE
The four-hour drive from Atlanta to Nashville is mostly forgettable except for one part. The pass between Chattanooga and Monteagle.
Locals call it “Monteagle Mountain.”
Truckers probably call it something else.
It is a hazardous 12-mile section of I-24 cutting across the Cumberland Plateau complete with 6% grades and runaway truck ramps. And while I’m attracted to the raw beauty of it, I’m more fascinated by how it was built. I’m a recovering engineer and love History Channel shows like Modern Marvels and The Engineering that Built the World. As you wind through the mountains, you can see the vertical grooves drilled into the limestone and granite where work crews packed explosives into the rock and blasted entire sections apart to make room for the highway. It is the best and worst part of the drive. But if you survive it, Nashville is your prize
FRIDAY ARRIVAL
Pro tip.
Do not roll up to The Thompson Nashville at 6:30 p.m. on a Friday night like I did unless you are prepared for controlled chaos.
The place was humming. Valets scrambling. Locals rolling in for dinner. Groups heading upstairs to L.A. Jackson. Glassware clinking. The neighborhood has real energy.
Which is usually the sign you picked the right place.
The Thompson sits in the heart of The Gulch and is part of QED Hospitality, the New Orleans rooted hospitality group led by James Beard semi-finalist Chef Brian Landry, formerly of Galatoire’s and Borgne. If you have ever spent time at the Pontchartrain Hotel in New Orleans at places like Jack Rose, Hot Tin, or Bayou Bar, you can absolutely feel the shared DNA.
I checked in, dropped my bags with the bellhop, and stepped into Marsh House which sits just off the lobby. Now Broadway may be where Nashville gets loud. But The Thompson is where Nashville gets polished. Dark wood. Steel. Tile.
And the attire?
I can sum that up in two words. Boobs out.
I had not seen that much cleavage since geology class.
My first move? A Stanzo.
Their banana forward take on an Old Fashioned.
I know “banana forward Old Fashioned” sounds like something conjured up by a hipster bartender with a waxed mustache and a vinyl collection, but it works. It is very smooth and very dangerous.
Then came a half dozen oysters.
Naked Jades and Murder Points from Bayou La Batre, Alabama and Divine Pines from Topsail Sound, North Carolina. Two of each. The price range is $4 to $5 per oyster. But if you are there for happy hour, Marsh House features a rotating “Happiest Oyster” for $1.50 per oyster.
Alongside them came smoked fish dip with Old Bay crackers that disappeared almost as fast as the oysters.
Then the shrimp toast hit the table. Game over.
That was the bite of the weekend. Addictive. The kind of thing where halfway through you are already debating whether or not you should order a second round.
The shrimp and andouille gumbo was excellent too, but the shrimp toast stole the show.
At least until the fried chicken landed.
Holy smokes. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again. If some people have a sweet tooth, I have a fried chicken tooth. It is hands down, my absolute favorite comfort food. So when it comes to yardbird, I have particularly high standards.
Chef Brack May has this dish totally dialed in. He tops the chicken with persillade, which I had never experienced before. It is a mixture of chopped parsley, garlic, oil, and lemon. Think chimichurri’s less aggressive French cousin without the red pepper flakes. Chef Brack adds the heat separately through chili pepper honey and balances the whole thing with tangy pickle chips. Even the red beans deserved their own shout out. Creamy and rich. And as beverage director Todd Johnston pointed out to me later, the entire dish is gluten-free. Not that gluten-free moves the needle for me, but it certainly would for someone with GI issues who has been denying themselves this guilty pleasure.
Then dessert arrived.
The bread pudding is definitely not gluten-free. It is made from the in-house croissants and cinnamon rolls served at brunch and topped with house made butter pecan ice cream and candied pecans.
At that point I was no longer eating responsibly. I was just trying to survive.
I considered heading upstairs to L.A. Jackson that first night, but after dinner and a long drive, I tapped out and headed to the room instead. Excellent decision.
THE ROOM
My room was fantastic. Very spacious. It felt bigger than most standard king rooms. A lot of that probably had to do with the floor to ceiling windows that really opened up the space. Then I discovered the thermostat.
Now listen carefully.
Most of you know I immediately set any thermostat to 69 degrees. It is my signature move. Always has been.
This thermostat went down to 35.
That is just three degrees above freezing.
I stared at it for an uncomfortable amount of time, purely out of respect. I was standing at a climatic crossroads. Questioning all that I had come to know. Do I dare push the envelope, and if so how low do I go? Ultimately I decided against turning my room into a walk-in meat locker.
I set it to my signature 69 and called it a night.
SATURDAY BRUNCH
Brunch started exactly as it should. With coffee and a mimosa. One interesting point about Marsh House, their brunch service is seven days a week. Not just weekends. So what I’m about to tell you plays any day of the week from 8 a.m until 2 p.m.
I was greeted with one of Pastry Chef Natalie Moorer’s cast iron cinnamon rolls. If you like her bread pudding at dinner, you’re really going to love its foundational ingredient at brunch.
I ordered the Cochon du Lait Benedict with braised pork, red onion jam, spinach, and smoky hollandaise, served on a duck fat biscuit. I repeat…
Duck Fat Biscuit.
What the duck?
Phenomenal.
At that point I understood why locals treat Marsh House like a neighborhood restaurant instead of just a hotel restaurant.
THE DREAM TEAM
Mid morning I headed to the rooftop to interview Chef Brack, Pastry Chef Natalie, and Beverage Director Todd for the Retire Southern podcast.
And honestly, we had a blast.
Within ten minutes of meeting Chef Brack, I became convinced we were separated at birth.
His team calls him “Brack-o-Roni,” an homage to his San Francisco roots and New Orleans swagger. His go to cocktail, a super dirty vodka martini with a shot of Tabasco.
“A Bloody Mary without the tomato juice,” he said.
It’s like he was speaking directly to my soul.
This is also a man who firmly believes brunch should begin with three milk punches before anything edible hits the table.
I’m telling you this guy is my spirit animal.
During the interview, we walked through what the ideal Thompson Nashville weekend would look like and Chef Brack casually brought up two off menu brunch creations that absolutely deserve to exist permanently.
The first: grits topped with shrimp andouille gumbo, and a poached egg.
I immediately lobbied to have it named “The James.”
The second: a Monte Cristo waffle loaded with gruyere and French ham.
Somewhere while reading this, a cardiologist just felt a disturbance in the force.
Todd Johnston was equally entertaining. His cocktail program upstairs at L.A. Jackson has become as legendary as his Marsh House wine program. Here’s a fun fact, the rooftop alone sold more than half a million dollars worth of espresso ‘tinis in 2025. No big deal.
And Chef Natalie quietly ties the entire building together through pastry via Marsh House, L.A. Jackson, and Killebrew Coffee.
Her fingerprints are everywhere. Even on the Jellies which is L.A. Jackson’s take on a jello shot.
The chemistry between these three is rock solid.
They are fun, human, and completely relatable.
SATURDAY AFTERNOON IN THE GULCH
After the interview, I spent the afternoon wandering around The Gulch.
Very chill. Very walkable.
The kind of neighborhood where you can spend an hour doing absolutely nothing and still feel like you accomplished something.
At one point I attempted to make my way over to Carter Vintage Guitars, which may be the single most dangerous establishment in Tennessee for middle aged men with disposable income and unresolved dad band fantasies.
Unfortunately, I failed to check the operating hours and missed my window.
Probably for the best.
Because if they had placed me in a private room with a vintage Telecaster once played by somebody like Marcus King or Darius Rucker, I might have finally discovered where the actual spending limit on an American Express card exists.
SATURDAY NIGHT L.A. JACKSON
Saturday night I did finally make it upstairs to L.A. Jackson.
First things first, the view is gorgeous. One of the best skyline views in Nashville.
Just an incredibly cool place to sit, have a cocktail, and take in the city from on high.
I ordered the Nashville hot chicken bites and the highly acclaimed espresso martini.
Both excellent.
That said, a couple notes if you are planning your visit.
From roughly 8 p.m. until midnight Thursday through Saturday, L.A. Jackson absolutely turns up complete with a DJ spinning, large crowds, and high energy. I’d liken it to an elevated South Beach club scene.
Now I am a very social person. I do love people. But I hate crowds.
So if that is not your thing, either go early before the DJ starts or hit L.A. Jackson Sunday through Wednesday when there is no DJ and the whole vibe becomes much more relaxed and conversational.
Same rooftop. Different energy.
I dipped back down to Marsh House and bellied up to the bar for dinner. After my interview earlier in the day, there were a few items the dream team brought up that I was dying to try. The Hamachi Aquachile with avocado, alfalfa sprouts, coconut vinegar, lime and cilantro. It is sweet, acidic, and has a little heat. But you can still taste the fish. Chef Natalie sold me on that. I chased that with the burger. And while technically it’s a brunch feature (not the dinner menu), they will absolutely make it for you if they still have the goods. It’s double stacked with american cheese. It is simply dressed, and it is amazing.
SUNDAY ROLL OUT
Sunday morning arrived with the emotional heaviness of knowing I had to point my car back toward Atlanta and survive the Monteagle Mountain in reverse. But there was one last bite calling my name before I hit the road. The Marsh House Lox & Bagel. What was so special about it? Two words.
Egg salad.
The in-house sesame bagel comes toasted with a base layer of egg salad, stacked with house-cured salmon, beet cream cheese and served with a pickle spear.
That combination should not work as well as it does.
Holy moly. Absolute game changer.
That bagel sammy put me back in the right headspace for the drive home.
And honestly, that is probably the best way I can describe The Thompson as a whole.
Unexpected combinations executed so well you stop questioning them halfway through the first bite.
Too many luxury hotels feel pretentious.
The Thompson somehow threads the needle between polished and playful.
One more oyster downstairs at Marsh House. One more espresso martini upstairs at L.A. Jackson. One more slow brunch in The Gulch before heading home.
Most hotels give you a room.
The Thompson gives you a weekend you start trying to recreate before you even check out.
Special thanks to Emery Whalen, Mathew Bagunu, Alexandra Day, Tesh Parris, and Amelie Bruzat for coordinating the details behind the scenes and making this Nashville weekend come together so seamlessly.
Watch the Trailer
Listen to the Full Conversation
In this episode of Retire Southern, James Lewis sits down with the dream team behind Thompson Nashville, Marsh House, and L.A. Jackson to explore Southern hospitality, rooftop culture, oysters, brunch, espresso martinis, and what it really takes to create a hotel experience people never want to leave.