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  • I'll start off by saying this place is adorable - a converted craftsman now a restaurant. The fireplace, the beautiful windows, a stained-glass divider between adjoining rooms, the entry foyer off the porch, etc. I had a warm feeling about the place. Until we sat down. The dining room is one small and very "open" room, so sound does travel all too well. Sitting directly behind my dining companions was a girl with an incredibly loud laugh that sounded like she was being stabbed. I felt that our table was in the middle of a thoroughfare - similar to the table directly next to us. It was hard for servers and other patrons to squeze by, presumably to go to the bathroom - which I didn't go looking for myself but which sounds hard to find based on other reviews. I watched with confusion as the table next to us, with their food on the table, was asked to stand up so their entire table could be moved three feet to one side. I don't know who requested this move (the server or the patrons), but I thought it was odd that it didn't happen until after food was served. On to the menu. Everything sounded excellent on paper. And I get that they are trying to capitalize on Charlotte's current obsession with "wine" and all things related (ie. wine tasting, wine pairing, wine bars, wine cultchah, etc.) This confused half-Frenchy half-Southern menu may just need to pay more attention to its audience. If you're supposedly a comfort food bistro, then part of that comfort should come from consistently good service and consistently prepared dishes. It seems Lulu needs to know where her bread is buttered. My friend ordered a dish he has ordered frequently (something with shrimp), but was surprised to see it come in a soup bowl full of watery liquid. He looked at his wife and said, "It's usually not served like this - isn't it supposed to be much thicker?" Our coffee sat unfilled after one teeny tiny (read: French?) sized cup, and my friend's special of the day omelette was good but not great. My omelette and bacon were not very flavorful, but I did like my other side item - something cleverly called "morning fries" which were really the old pomme frites redone the morning after with some really good spices (garlic, peppers, mmmm). When in Rome, or is it France, or is it the New South?.... I should have had a mimosa.
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