Plenty of speakeasies in town have novel entrances, disguised as bookcases or kitchen shelves, but there’s only one you enter by cat door. Well, not a traditional cat door, per se. The entrance at Mèo, a new bar inside Texas-Asian restaurant Wokker in the Heights, is hidden behind a mural of a money cat sporting a very Texas getup of a cowboy hat and lasso. Although not all cartoon cats in cowboy hats are innocuous, as any fan of Fievel Goes West can tell you, this human-size cat door creaks open to reveal the most pleasant of surprises—but only after pressing a hidden button (which you’ll have to find for yourself).
Mèo, Vietnamese for “cat,” is meant to feel like a dockside bar in Vietnam. Two glass chandeliers hang dramatically in the center of the large, deep blue room, their light scattered a thousand ways by a wall of gilded mirrors of various shapes and sizes. Below, a row of booths is accented by scarlet red cushions featuring a lotus blossom design. On the other side, a mural of a lily pond is partially obscured by woven Vietnamese baskets hung on the wall in a swirling pattern. At the far end, behind the bar, another lily pond and its koi fish residents are etched on a large piece of glass that’s backlit by a kaleidoscope of soothing colors.
This tranquil space is the brainchild of two couples: owners Man Dao and Ahn Nguyen, and partners Marco Juarez and Charity Brown. The speakeasy, which serves some top-notch dim sum and craft cocktails, is just the latest project from a partnership between Dao and Juarez that is almost a decade old. In 2014, the duo opened their now uberpopular food truck Wokker. A brick-and-mortar on Airline Drive followed in late 2021, but the team quickly realized the space they had acquired was too big for just one concept—hence the birth of Mèo.
They originally offered table service, but decided to scale back to bar service to make the space feel more casual and approachable. “Mèo feels like a dive bar, but you still feel like you’re being treated,” Brown says. “A lot of times when you go to cocktail bars, they’re kind of bougie and you can feel out of place. So we just wanted to create a place where everyone felt welcome, but you could still get a good drink.”
A longtime bartender, Brown oversees the day-to-day operations of Mèo and is responsible for its cocktail menu, which is heavily influenced by Vietnamese flavors. Nguyen grew up with salted plums as a childhood treat, and introduced them to Brown, who quickly fell in love with them. They feature in the Salty Kitty, a canary-hued libation made with salted plum vodka, orange bourbon tincture, lemon, turbinado sugar, and egg white—all garnished with a piece of dried salted plum. “It’s been fun learning about Vietnamese ingredients,” Brown says.
Mèo’s small, dim sum–centric food menu, developed by Dao, is set to change seasonally. The spring menu featured wontons stuffed with a roasted sweet corn filling, baptized in a sweet and buttery lemongrass coconut broth—all delightfully doused in a spicy sesame oil. Equally compelling were the chicken dumplings in a kimchi butter sauce, served with napa cabbage.
Brown, who has worked for local music festivals in the past, has also turned her talents to curating Mèo’s playlist. One night in April, it was heavy on Metric and Phantogram, creating a mellow yet upbeat, dive bar-like soundscape that stands in contrast to the usually less hip musical stylings of many of the city’s other speakeasies. One song in particular seemed to be on repeat that evening: “When I’m Small” by Phantogram. “You’ve got your hand on the button now,” goes the melancholic chorus. You’ll most definitely want your hand on Mèo’s hidden button, but once again, you’ll have to find it yourself—this is a speakeasy, after all.
