Nate’s on Marsh is a Childhood Dream Realized in SLO
Story by Aja Goare
Photography by Andrew Cobb
As a young boy barely tall enough to see over the tables, Nate Long remembers crossing his knife and fork over a steak and baked potato in the dining room of a restaurant on Marsh Street in San Luis Obispo. Full of historic charm and character, the restaurant was a memorable gathering space for his loved ones to share a meal when his mother wasn’t cooking dinner at home. Some four decades later, he still looks forward to returning for dinner. Except now, he’s not simply a guest — he owns it.
After high school, Nate began working in San Francisco under acclaimed Chef Joseph Menzarri of Spago with Wolfgang Puck. But he quickly realized where his passion and skill best fit. “I’m a front-of-house personality, not a trained chef,” Nate says. He decided to return home and attend Cal Poly, where he studied agricultural business and marketing.
Post-graduation, Nate found himself involved in projects like rebranding San Francisco’s Wharf marketplace and later on the marketing team for Eat Smart, which produces packaged salad and vegetable kits. But during the pandemic, a chance visit to his family’s favorite dinner spot changed his trajectory.
“My family came in to dinner one night at Gennaro’s and realized we loved this building,” he recalls. “So, we asked Gennaro if he wanted to sell and he said he’d been trying.”
With that bit of happenstance, Nate took over the restaurant, updating the name to Nate’s on Marsh and injecting the aesthetic with a healthy dose of maximalism. “If you cut me open and look inside, this is what it would look like,” he jokes of the hunter green walls, white trim and Western-themed wallpaper and decor. “I had a clear vision from the get-go. I knew I wanted green and white; if you look back at historically successful horse racing farms, they’re usually green and white. The vibe is Churchill Downs, a very traditional, classic equestrian colorway. I wanted to play into history here and it was great fit.”
Though the aesthetic of the dining space is discernibly different from years past, many of the building’s original qualities remain. “It still has that same feeling to it,” he says. “The tables haven’t moved since 1986.”
Like it is for Nate, that feeling of nostalgia is why many of the diners who frequent the restaurant return. And that goes for every iteration of the building, which was not only Gennaro’s but a restaurant called Carmel Beach and, earlier, a fraternity house for at least a dozen years.
Nate recalls a night involving a wedding rehearsal dinner with an enthusiastic mother of the bride. “She had a gift for me: two Carmel Beach wine mugs that her and her husband got when they married [on the property] many years ago. She gave them to me!” he says, adding that the romance of it all still overwhelms him. “People come here for different reasons; they still feel something from the past. It’s really grounding for me because I didn’t create this on my own. I get to be pulled into love stories. The history gives me goosebumps.”
These memories are shared over plates of classic menu items like lasagna with hand-cut sheets of pasta, Bolognese and gorgonzola bechamel, a Niman Ranch rib eye or a salmon piccata. Simple yet high quality, local ingredients from producers like Babe Farms and Alle Pia are Nate’s aim. He says working in consumer research at the bagged salads company showed him that people want honest, straightforward food.
“We are ranchers, farmers, cow people — we like the finer things, simply,” Nate explains. “If I’m at a restaurant and can’t recognize the menu items, I won’t order it. I wanted a place where people could order their favorites repeatedly and not have to think about it. A Manhattan and a meatball, done.”
That’s why he hasn’t changed the menu, save for adding a couple pastas and salads, since he opened. And while flavor is an important feature of any restaurant, he says the memories made at Nate’s on Marsh involve many more ingredients than just food.
“Service is my top priority; food is actually number three,” he says with a laugh. “When you go out for Nonna’s 84th birthday, you won’t remember the pork chop, even if it was the best. You’ll remember who you were with, the music, Grandma fan-girling over the wallpaper. My legacy is to keep what was once here going.”
