Gus Gus exterior door
I might be in danger of becoming a regular in a neighborhood bar. The neighborhood is in St. Paul. I live in St. Louis Park. But that's how taken I am with Gus Gus in Merriam Park.
This iteration of the very rare apartment building basement restaurant feels correct to me right now. Once long ago (the '90s), it held the neighborhood with cozy paneled walls as 128 Cafe. Then it became a new 128 Cafe under Max Thompson, who eventually turned it into the bright white Stewart's which brought people in for killer fries and a worthy burger. This year it has changed hands again.
dining room with diners
Anna Morgan and Kevin Manley have re-embraced the basement vibe, casting the space in a deep sea-blue that is softly dark. Gold, brass, copper-ish lighting gives the appropriate accompanying glow. It's not trying to pretend it's not small, it likes that about itself.
hand stamped donkey walls
Enter into the front room with, what 10 tables, and the bar. There is a back room with more seating and hand-stamped donkey wallpaper. There's no host stand, but the staff will see you. I rather love the table to the right of the door, a little corner half-booth that allows you to notice everyone walking in before they notice you. You'll want to say that it feels like that Brooklyn eatery you found or maybe reminds you of that bar from the Golden Gai when you were in Tokyo, because we remember small spaces individually and specifically. This one has gnomes on the wall.
When I grabbed two chairs at the bar, the pair next to me offered to skootch over a bit, which led to chatting about parking and the crazy weather. Then I discovered the pair to my other side was a photographer friend who I hadn't seen in a while and a woman I had met at another friend's house years ago. I swear to you, these interactions, these knitting back the connections of our lives is something best done in smaller spaces. Not the cavernous hot spots we are also drawn to as we re-create our worlds in big loud celebratory ways. Gus Gus is for the small moments, the stitches that mend, the quieter smiles that carry you through the rest of the hours. And the food follows. Much has been said about Morgan and Manley as industry veterans, and they've worked around town in some great places. But this feels like a personal menu, not an evolution of other experiences. A gathering of plates that might be late-night riffs with intuitive additions that happen when people with skills look at each other and say: You know what would kill with this? Beets.
chips with creme dollop
Speck is a kind of cured ham, fraulein.
The front section of the menu is snacky. Toasted corn nuts, spiced olives, but also boquerones fritters which are tiny fish battered and fried with sage. Potato chips arrive with bits of salty speck and a dollop of créme fraiche, which is the right side to one of their spritz creations, like the light and springy Alpine Dew with genepy and Lillet.
clam chowder
The second section brings a little bigger of a plate. It's been a while since I've had a clam chowder with in-shell clams, and one that promoted the veg as more than just a baseline mirepoix. This one was quite light and so far from the gummy ones of norm that I was a wee bit mad I was sharing it. The roasted beets with Chinese sausage and créme fraiche was one of those dishes I thought: oh yeah, its supposed to be like this. The poutine was a lovely mess of braised oxtail, little puffs of gnocchi, and cheesecurds. Very rich and tasty, not so photogenic.
cheeseburger and fries
The final section has your main plates, and there's a dead-sexy double cheeseburger with house made Golden Velvet cheese oozing all over the place. And that's a sure thing when you need it. But the open faced pork rillete on caraway rye was the kind of dish that fired my neurons in all the right ways. Not only do you get the dusky smooth porkiness, but it's cut with a bite of sauerkraut and made hearty and substantial with an egg. I dug into that so quickly I forgot to take a picture. It's also on the brunch menu, which I am excited to try for the French toast with orange marmalade and mascarpone.
glass of bourbon
There's a brown butter washed bourbon that needs your attention, and if you get it with the squash pudding hit with a light slap of garam masala, I will consider you pro status. And I might see you there, doing the same.
Gus Gus is open for dinner, happy hour is 4-5pm Tu-Sat. Brunch on Sun, closed Mon. Make a reservation if you can, but pop in for a bar seat if you are willing to roll dice.
