Cabana marked its first anniversary last month, just over two years after partners Randy Rayburn, Craig Clifft and Brian Uhl took possession of what some had come to regard as a jinxed property. Though many questioned the trio’s sanity—particularly Rayburn’s, who already owned and captained Sunset Grill and Midtown Café—no one was betting against them. Double R has virtually attained the status of don in the Nashville restaurant industry, with Clifft as his longtime front-of-the-house capo and Uhl serving the same role in the kitchen. Cabana’s first year of operation proved much smoother than the year leading up to its opening, a process documented in Opening Soon, a Canadian-produced reality television series that follows new restaurants from conception to grand opening. During the 30-minute program, Rayburn’s dogged determination, Clifft’s mounting anxiety (exacerbated by his toddler daughter’s serious illness), Uhl’s frustration in creating a menu to appeal to an unknown demographic, and the trio’s collective desperation to raise funds as plans changed and costs skyrocketed to well over $1 million, were palpable. Sweat fairly dripped from the screen. The original plan was to take the sorely neglected building that had housed a series of failed ventures and upgrade it into a comfortable neighborhood bar with simple albeit creative food. They would move the bar back to the center, make a small, private VIP room and retool and enlarge the deck out front. But then the partners looked out the back door. “There were eight parking spaces and a Dumpster,” recalls Clifft. “It didn’t make sense to us to waste all that property on that, so we went back to the drawing board on the plans.” The lot gave way to a 2,900-square-foot enclosed patio, with seating for 150 at tables and freestanding booths and in three of the eight curtained cabanas that give the place its name. And there’s posing room for the same number. A sizeable bar claims the wall opposite the three massive garage doors facing Wedgewood Avenue, which are raised to varying heights depending on the weather. A long hall paneled in horizontal lengths of golden backlit wood connects the front rooms and back patio and is punctuated by the remaining cabanas—shallow half-bowls carved into the hall, custom-fit with upholstered bunkettes (the contemporary moniker for banquettes) and outfitted with ceiling-mounted flat-screen televisions and individually controlled lighting and sound. The front room—casual, warm and inviting—is centered by the U-shaped bar and ringed by two- and four-tops. The Pit, a seating area two steps down from the main level with windows opening to the front deck, offers high-profile privacy for small groups or larger parties who want to be in on and yet somewhat shielded from the action—an option also offered by the large backroom cabanas. The dramatic multilevel front deck recalls a Bedouin tent, with a 16-foot wooden trellis swathed with white drapes that billow in a night breeze. As the concept and blueprints evolved, chef Uhl focused on the food, trying to interpret what the hell Rayburn meant by “feminine food,” a culinary concept the don proposed his executive chef invent and deliver. Did feminine food translate to low-cal, low-fat? Pretty? Neat and contained? Food that wouldn’t smear lipstick, break a nail, slide into exposed cleavage or produce muffin-topped midriffs? It was, Uhl admitted on camera in Opening Soon, a mystery. As Uhl, Clifft and Rayburn held their collective breath, Cabana opened on Wednesday, Oct. 12, to a youthful, attractive and fashionably dressed crowd eager to check out The Next Big Thing. Word spread, and before long, weekend nights saw lines at the door. Weeknights were not quite so frenetic, but on even the slowest nights, the back room never echoed with emptiness, and the front room fluctuated between a comfortable flow and a tight squeeze. While the partners were finally able to exhale, the true test would come as the novelty wore off. Sure, if you build it, they will come. But will they come back? One year later, Cabana maintains its buzz and hums like a well-tooled engine. Its confidence with both its product and identity stands out among other recent concepts unable to define themselves as bar, restaurant or club. Cabana—perhaps by virtue of its massive size and compartmentalized design—succeeds as an entertaining and well-synchronized three-ring circus under one big top. Want a quiet solo drink and a spot to catch NBC Sunday Night Football? Claim a stool at the front bar. Having an informal, drop-by birthday party? Reserve The Pit. A night out with the girls for a not-your-mother’s TV dinner? Grab a cabana. One regular group of Grey’s Anatomy fans has a standing reservation on Thursday nights to watch McDreamy over salads and pasta. Dinner with friends? A table in the back—before 10 p.m., if you hope to converse without shouting. Match.com not working for you? The back bar is a prime meet market for singles aspiring to double-up. A late-night place to see and be seen? From 10 p.m. to 2 a.m. on almost any night of the week, the patio crackles with highly charged energy and youthful exuberance, though Clifft notes that since opening, the age demographic has shifted upward late-night, now drawing the 25-to-40 crowd. Frequently when a place succeeds as a bar or a club, either it lowers its expectations for food, or its cocktails and atmosphere overwhelm the cuisine. Neither is the case with Cabana. Uhl’s menu will not be mistaken for upper epicurean, but it skillfully spans a tightrope between style and substance, above a safety net of self-described “casual Southern comfort cuisine.” Just as Cabana offers diverse seating and entertainment choices, the menu covers fast-food lovers, light eaters, hearty appetites, vegetarians, meat-and-potatoes guys, comfort foodies and the globally curious. Most every dish bears, in some fashion, a Southern accent, particularly those items branded as a “Cabana Favorite.” Leading the parade are Tennessee sliders, light and flaky fresh-baked sweet potato biscuits, halved and filled with slow-cured, locally produced and nationally revered Benton’s Smokey Mountain country ham or buttermilk-fried melt-in-your-mouth chicken tenders and sided with a scoop of peach preserves, a whimsical version of Krystal’s late-night liquor sop. The country ham makes recurring appearances in supporting roles throughout the menu—as prosciutto wrapped around prawns; on the antipasto plate with house-made mozzarella, locally produced cheese and deviled eggs; and on the scallops Benedict compilation with white cheddar grits, asparagus and Hollandaise sauce. Regional products also show up on the Bob White Springs Tennessee smoked rainbow trout starter, simply plated with locally grown field greens, and as an entrée bulked up with Yukon Gold mashed potatoes. Ashley Farms free-range chickens, roasted or fried, are to Tyson chicken what Kobe beef is to ground chuck. Pork hogs the spotlight three ways: pulled and piled on jalapeño cornbread with sweet cream corn or on a bun; on a rack of smoked baby back ribs cooked to an expert snap; and on the inch-thick, bone-in chop classically partnered with cheddar grits and mustard greens. Red meat standouts include the ancho-rubbed hanger steak (also known as the Butcher’s Cut) and the coffee-and-coco-crusted venison with show-stealing sides of butternut squash-vanilla risotto, spicy wilted greens and tart lingonberry sauce. Fish heads can ponder grilled salmon served with Georgia peach salsa; yellow fin tuna given an Eastern turn with shiitake-jasmine rice cake, stir-fried veggies and coconut sambal broth; or the scallops. Nightly specials typically offer another fresh catch. Two Martini Meals, so named for their serving vessel, also come from the sea: Hawaiian ahi tuna tartare on a wakeme salad with wasabi caviar and the decadent macaroni and cheese, which subs brie for cheddar and adds lobster claw meat and crisp-fried country ham. Bar food fans can nosh on house-made potato chips, paper-thin but crisp enough to hold the rich Gorgonzola dip, and red or white pizza. Both items make up the late-night menu, which begins at 10 p.m. Sunday through Thursday and at midnight Friday and Saturday, when the lights go down, the music comes up and the party gets started. Ringmasters Rayburn, Clifft and Uhl operate under the premise that everyone loves the circus. The key to enjoying Cabana is deciding if you prefer to be part of the show or sit in the audience. Then, it’s simply a matter of timing and location. Either way, it’s worth the price of admission. Cabana serves dinner seven days a week, starting at 4 p.m.