Fancy hot dogs are everywhere — including this Vietnamese-influenced wine bar

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A “Vietnamese-influenced wine bar” might sound like the last place in the world to go for a good hot dog. But at Gigi’s, which opened in November in a corner spot on Divisadero Street, it’s a cornerstone of the menu. 

Chef Tu David Phu wasn’t necessarily out to elevate the quintessential frankfurter, but his wagyu dog buried underneath egg, prosciutto, scallions, furikake, and pork floss — a pile of sexy condiments that justifies the $18 price tag — pairs well with a glass of Posip, a medium-bodied white wine from Croatia. He created it the same way he has created virtually everything throughout his extensive, Michelin-kissed career: by connecting it to Bay Area street food and what his mother cooked in her West Oakland kitchen when he was a kid.

“I think the rest of the nation doesn’t understand how much the Bay Area loves hot dogs,” Phu said. “My references start in the Mission with a bacon-wrapped hot dog after the club, or after a ballgame, cooked by beautiful brown people.” 

Putting aside the considerable stresses faced by gray-market food vendors, it’s a great time to be an eater of high-end hot dogs in San Francisco. Crocker-Amazon bar the Halfway Club has the closest approximation to a Chicago-style frank around, while over in Oakland, Tallboy’s lineup is so tasty you’d never guess they’re vegan.

Quik Dog, a brick-and-mortar offshoot of Trick Dog’s pop-up, is coming to Mission Bay sooner or later. Then there’s the Prog Dog, the labor-intensive, Korean-Japanese porkster at the Progress that’s slathered in kimchi, bonito flakes, and fried shallots and fitted into a togarashi-seasoned bun. (Only 12 are made per day.) 

But how does this fervor fit in at a wine bar? Rather perfectly, it turns out. Gigi’s is a vivacious spot at the southern end of the Divisadero corridor, which may have never had as many thriving bars and nightlife venues as it does right now. Lit and laid out so that it feels like two spaces in one room, with a dim lounge in back, Gigi’s is for trying fun varietals on a reasonably priced, Old World-heavy wine list — the Casa-Lasierra rosé of Grenache is a steal at $10 per glass — or going hogwild with a chambong.

On top of the well-curated wine list, it’s got a chef-driven feel. But Gigi’s is definitely not a restaurant, with a menu of solely bar bites and small plates, like shrimp chips, ceviche, and Vietnamese caesar salad with grilled rice paper. There’s an element of challenge as well, as many Southeast Asian dishes contain fermented ingredients and assertive flavors that can make a good wine pairing tricky. 

That’s why it’s “Vietnamese-influenced,” not “Vietnamese,” Phu said. “How do I curate a dish so that when people eat it, it still has identity as a dish but can pair with wine or be in a wine bar setting? Not by stripping ingredients, per se, but zooming in and being more hyper-focused on certain aspects.” 

For instance, the ma po tofu noodles, while undeniably tasty, deviate from the standard preparation, with eggplant, shiitake mushrooms, and fermented fava in the mix. It’s an adaptation that comes from Vietnamese dining culture, the chef added — specifically, “nhau,” which refers to eating and drinking for no reason beyond simply hanging out. “It’s the equivalent of tapas,” he said.

The pork floss on the wagyu hot dog is another callback to Phu’s West Oakland roots — his mother would use it instead of ketchup to dust up $1.50 Polish beef dogs from Costco. “When I visited Vietnam in the ’90s, I watched a street vendor put it on salad,” Phu said. “And I figured, ‘Why not on a hot dog?’ It’s glorious on a hot dog.”