La Merenda – Nice's Legend Prepares to Change Hands

In the knot of lanes that is Vieux Nice, a few steps from the market stalls of Cours Saleya, La Merenda has fed the city for sixty years, created in 1966 by Christiane and Jean Giusti and held by them for thirty years before Dominique Le Stanc took over in 1996, fresh from winning back two Michelin stars at Le Chantecler inside the Hôtel Negresco. He gave up starred cooking for a dining room the size of a garage, with no telephone, no card machine and around twenty stools at tightly packed tables. Thirty years on, the story is about to turn a page: Le Stanc has announced he will step back in April 2027, handing La Merenda to the Monaco-based Riccardo Giraudi group just as the bistro turns sixty. For now, nothing has changed at the stove: the same blackboard carries pissaladière, sardines farcies and daube exactly as Nice has always cooked them, and the restaurant holds a Bib Gourmand in the MICHELIN Guide, recognition for cooking of real quality at a fair price.

01The room and the setting

The dining room is barely wider than a corridor: around twenty stools, tightly packed tables, no credit cards and, famously, no telephone to book by.

At the back, a doorless kitchen puts Le Stanc and a single kitchen porter in full view, dishes travelling the few metres from stove to table in sight of every diner. The ceiling is low, hung with strings of curtain-like beads, and the only decoration is whatever happens to be cooking that service.

02The chef

Dominique Le Stanc is from Alsace, not Nice. His father bought a hotel-restaurant when the boy was in his early teens, and he was drawn into watching the kitchen at work; he trained young at Le Cerf in Marlenheim, where he also met his wife, Danielle Husser. The path then ran through some of the grand names of French cooking: Gaston Lenôtre, Alain Chapel, the Haeberlin family at the Auberge de l'Ill, and Alain Senderens at l'Archestrate, who nicknamed him 'Jésus'.

Insider tip

No phone bookings – reserve in person. Closed Saturday and Sunday. Cash and most cards not accepted.

In 1984 Dominique and Danielle opened their own kitchen in Monaco under the Le Stanc name, before he took over Château Eza above Èze and then Le Chantecler at the Hôtel Negresco, where he won back the hotel's two Michelin stars. In 1996 he left the gilt dining rooms behind for this twenty-seat bistro, choosing market produce over Michelin ceremony.

03What to order

The blackboard has barely changed in thirty years: pissaladière, beignets de fleurs de courgette, sardines farcies, pâtes au pistou, stockfish, daube mijotée and tourte de blettes, built each morning from whatever the market offers.

On a visit recorded by Gault&Millau in 2026, zucchini flower fritters cost €14, pissaladière €11, stuffed sardines and pistou pasta €14 each, and stockfish – the dried-cod dish that is as Niçois as the city gets – €22; the same guide rates the kitchen 13/20 in its 'Chef's Restaurant' tier.

04Booking and when to go

There is still no way to reserve by phone: guests put their name down in person, then return at the agreed hour. Service runs Monday to Friday, lunch from midday to two and dinner in the evening; by shortly after midday the handful of tables are already filling, so arriving early in the sitting matters more than arriving fashionably late.

05The neighbourhood

Cours Saleya's flower and vegetable stalls sit close enough to supply the kitchen on foot, and Le Stanc still goes there most mornings by bicycle to choose produce from growers he has dealt with for years. A few streets away on the Promenade des Anglais, Nice keeps one more old-fashioned ritual at noon: a cannon tradition begun in the nineteenth century by an English resident tired of his wife's late returns from her seafront walk still marks the hour, conveniently timing itself to the start of lunch service nearby.

06What's next

After thirty years, Le Stanc has confirmed he will step back in April 2027, as La Merenda turns sixty and passes into the hands of the Monaco-based hospitality group run by restaurateur Riccardo Giraudi. He has said the decision is as much about time for his family as about retirement, and that he intends to keep cooking at home and keep going to the Saleya market to choose produce, even as he laments how many of the growers he once relied on have disappeared over three decades without being replaced. Asked what would survive him, he answered simply that the address came before him and would outlast him too.

For a weekend. For a lifetime.