It started with an alarm. There was another middle-of-the-night break-in at the vacant building near downtown St. Paul. Forepaugh’s had become a magnet for late-night lurkers.
The historic mansion was once a crown jewel of the Irvine Park neighborhood, a clutch of stately old homes that are still referred to by the last names of the business barons who commissioned them, ordering ornate woodwork, imported stone fireplaces and details that inspire observers to cluck, “They just don’t make ‘em like that anymore.”
The house built by Joseph Forepaugh holds all that and more: the allure of ghost stories and tragedy. The alarm that night was a familiar sound to Bruce Taher, who owns the house. “It had become a bit of a magnet,” he said. “You know, there are people who come through who don’t have homes and just want to be warm. Or just want to tell ghost stories.”
But this late-night visit to the house, in late 2022, was different. Taher arrived to a broken window and noticed the grand Victorian mansion sagging. The emptiness weighed on it; every floorboard groaned as he walked through. The price tag to replace that broken window would be about $4,000 — the cost of bringing this house back to its splendor would be a lot more. It was hardly an investment that a restaurant, with notoriously thin margins, could be expected to return.
As the founder and president of Taher Inc., which operates dining rooms across the country, Taher prides himself on building a stellar lineup of culinary talent to lead the company’s meal programs. He still calls himself a chef, with a jovial glint in his eye, as the company manages food service programs from Washington, D.C., to Cretin-Derham Hall High School in St. Paul.
Built into the culture of this business is the core belief in the power of food.
Standing inside this old house with multiple dining rooms (seven to nine, depending on whom you ask), Taher felt the push of all that history at his back. “Let’s just get this place back to where it was,” he said.

A ghostly past
As a restaurant that doubles as a landmark, the Historic Preservation Commission had to be involved, too. Somewhere between working with the group and completely removing the side porch for rebuilding, St. Paulites caught wind of what was happening — they don’t call it “St. Small” for nothing — and residents love to share stories about the infamous building.