Nightlife: Old school cool

These days the Twin Cities area is filled with enough glitzy restaurants and gaudy ultralounges to make us forget our you-betcha modesty. But this winter, a couple of hit dining spots showed us that sometimes nothing tastes as sweet as a shot of nostalgia.

A different kind of trend seems to be catching steam: making the old new again. That's exactly what's going on in St. Paul at the Strip Club. No, there aren't any strippers -- it's New York strip steak they're talking about. Located in a 123-year-old building in the Dayton's Bluff neighborhood, this old-school chop house is the type of place where gangsters like John Dillinger might have eaten.

It looks the part, with turn-of-the-century cornice work, a cast-iron spiral staircase and even a hidden door behind a gas fireplace.

"We call it our 'Scooby-Doo door,'" said co-owner Aaron Johnson.

Rut-ro, Shaggy, could a place like the Strip Club really give downtown swank a run for its money?

Its owners have a track record, at least. They worked the same kind of magic with the Town Talk Diner in Minneapolis, turning that old East Lake Street landmark into a destination for gourmet comfort food and unconventional cocktails. Now they're capitalizing on St. Paul's storied past at the Strip Club.

They're not the only ones recycling the past. With its slow-cooked dinners, fish-fry Fridays and North Woods decor, the Red Stag Supperclub, which Bryant-Lake Bowl owner Kim Bartmann opened this winter in northeast Minneapolis, pays homage to the meat-and- potatoes palaces that surrounded her family's northern Wisconsin campground. Those photographs adorning the walls aren't stock art of cabin life -- they're straight from the Bartmann family album.

But time took its toll and for decades the Victorian architecture was masked by an ugly facade. The current owner, Lou Sudheimer, rehabbed the building in the late 1990s, giving it a dark paint job with touches of gold here and there. He added a lofted mezzanine, which has a beautiful brass and cast-iron railing. He also put in the fun Prohibition-style features, including the hidden door.

Niver and Johnson instantly connected with the building's past. They love showing guests the door, which leads to a secret hideout ... their office.

"We definitely bow to the history of the city, just as we did with Town Talk," Niver said. "St. Paul was a town where miscreants and thieves and gangsters came to hide out. It's part of its story. And a little bit of naughtiness is always a good thing."

The steak-and-fish menu reflects the old-school theme. Chef J.D. Fratzke, formerly of Muffuletta, has filled the menu with all sorts of tributes to Minnesota's past. The Swedish meatballs are called Swede Hollow meatballs, for the nearby neighborhood. He also has walleye fritters and grilled meat on a stick.

Veggie options? Ha, would Dillinger order tofu? The fine print on the menu says it all: "Vegetarians regarded with benevolent amusement."

"Back in the day, everybody had to make their own tonic," Johnson said. "It didn't come out of a soda gun."

They're also making infusions, including a blackberry brandy that Johnson has been working on for awhile.

"Blackberry brandy is really a Midwestern thing, especially where I'm from in Wisconsin," he said. "When you go into a bar for a bump and a beer, it's usually a shot of brandy -- but not very good brandy."

A new neighborhood

This is the kind of place where politicians and high-powered businessmen would come to discuss the wheelings and dealings of the day over a couple of strong martinis.

"I know every restaurant in St. Paul," he said in all seriousness. "And this is really quite a place. I can see our apartment building from where we're sitting."

Indeed, the view of downtown St. Paul from Dayton's Bluff is as good as any. And Larson knows the terrain well -- the Strip Club is two blocks from the Lutheran church he attended in the late 1960s.

"We'll be here next week, too," he said.

The restaurant's owners have never had any trouble courting regulars. Niver likes to greet diners at the front door with a handshake, his frazzle of brown hair just an extension of his excitable personality. If he's the sharp-tongued talker, then Johnson is the "love maker" (Niver's words), a guy who will be calling you "brotha" by the end of the night.

The Strip Club's renewing spirit may extend beyond its own walls. Neighbors have been flocking to the restaurant, hoping it will be another step in revitalizing the area.

"I've been here for three years and I think it's the best thing that's ever happened to the neighborhood," Meyer said, also in all seriousness.

Coincidentally, they were eating with a couple who live near the Town Talk Diner. This is the second time the Strip Club's owners have risked going into a neighborhood waiting for a resurgence.

"We like sitting down on East Lake, where everybody told us not to go," Niver said. "People say it's 'location, location, location.' But that's not always true. We believe there is still life to be lived in these neighborhoods."

And business is good. Last Saturday, there were 120 people on the reservation list for a room that seats 50 people. The place is drawing everyone from hipsters to old-timers in wheelchairs.

"There was already a beating heart [at the old Town Talk space]," Niver said. "And I felt that here. We just resuscitated it."