San Diego Spotlight : Both Fun and Portions Are Big at Buffalo Joe’s

You can do some damage to the barrel of peanuts just inside Buffalo Joe’s door if you wait to be seated.

Stand there long enough and proprietor Marcus Demian, a maitre d’ in spite of himself in jeans and a straw cowboy hat, may take pity and offer the advice: “Just grab a seat wherever you want. This isn’t a restaurant, it’s country-Western.”

The Stetson-crowned crowd converging from such parking spaces as can be found in the Gaslamp Quarter advertises the country-Western affiliation from a distance. But Demian is too modest by half: His cowpoke cantina at 5th and Market is a restaurant, and a rather good one, a point made clear by the slow-smoked beef brisket that melts under a barbecue sauce just sharp enough to make the eyes water at the corners.

To fish an old category from the barrel, Buffalo Joe’s qualifies as a nightclub, a description many places falsely claim but that fits this one as tightly as the waitresses’ sawed-off blue jean shorts. That means that the food and entertainment are inextricably wedded, blissfully in this case: The two qualifiers that suit Buffalo Joe’s best are fun and, believe it or not, nice . A menu note specifies that all family members, kids and Granny included, are absolutely welcome at all times. F. Scott Fitzgerald might never have come within a mile of a place like Buffalo Joe’s, but the description he wrote of the guests at Jay Gatsby’s parties, “they came with a simplicity of heart that was its own ticket of admission,” would describe the crowd that two-stepped around the dance floor on a pair of recent evenings. Actually, simplicity of heart and a $3 cover charge (for men only) are sufficient to get you in the door on nights that feature name entertainment.

Ponder the curious table accouterments--a roll of paper towels, a large, empty, galvanized tin bucket and a smaller pail filled with water and lemon slices--and you should be able to deduce the main thrust of the menu, which is to say, barbecued ribs. A special wood-fired smoker, constructed in Montana, turns out beef, pork and baby back ribs of uniformly high quality, the meat almost succulent enough to be sipped off the bone rather than gnawed. The brisket, smoked for 18 hours until it transcends simple tenderness, is probably the best bet, while the barbecued half-chicken, if tasty enough, can be on the scrawny side.

The menu rolls along to include top sirloin steaks, in weights from half-pound to a 3-pounder meant to serve the table (the half-pound version sampled was rather tough, in truth); deep-fried catfish; hamburgers and sandwiches built around barbecued meats, and, on occasion, such things as oxtail stew, buffalo stew, smoked ham hocks with black-eyed peas, chitterling stew for the adventurous and, for the true daredevils, Rocky Mountain oysters. Caesar, spinach and green salads, served in industrial-size bowls, will be dressed on request with balsamic vinegar and olive oil in a gesture that mimics the style of the area’s chic Italian eateries.

A veteran of several decades in the restaurant biz, Demian was a partner in Los Angeles’ Aware Inn, a health food eatery founded in the late 1950s that encouraged health-conscious eating in an era known mostly for rare prime beef. Buffalo Joe’s huge portions of ribs and brisket, heaping sides of onion rings (different in that they’re crunchy rather than crisp), steak fries and creamy “potater” salad certainly are at variance with Aware Inn standards, but the menu includes an entire vegetable section that lists collard and mustard greens, succotash, corn on the cob, hoppin’ john (a stew of rice and black-eyed peas), grilled yams and fried green tomatoes. For all that veggified abundance, the guest looking for the best side to his ribs or brisket will order a bowl of the sweet, delicious barbecued beans.

Meals also include a light, good cole slaw, immense squares of crumbly corn bread and, untypically for barbecue restaurants, carefully arranged, meant-to-be-eaten garnishes of sliced tomatoes and cucumbers. Buffalo Joe’s evidently is Aware, to a degree.

The country chow concludes with pies constructed on the premises, all served in larger-than-life portions, and all rather good. The sweet potato pie, spiced like pumpkin, is good enough, while the pecan pie may be the best of the lot--but there is an alluring appeal to the peach cobbler, which spreads out on the plate under thin slabs of flaky crust and a mountainous scoop of slowly melting vanilla ice cream.

Most diners eat with at least one eye turned to the dance floor, the constant focus of the establishment. Music in one form or another persists almost nonstop, and pleasantly; there is no problem with over-amplification here. On some evenings, dance instructors backed by recorded music alternate with the live bands, and anyone who wishes can learn to square-dance or to guide their booted (or sneakered) feet through the aerobic intricacies of the 10-step, which looks about five times as complicated as the two-step. And even when deeply involved with a plate of ribs, it can be hard to resist the impulse to join the square-dancers, who stand, arms interlocked, feet poised just so, ready to allemande left and then do-Si-do.

The setting makes it all seem natural, even in the trendy precincts of the Gaslamp Quarter. About the only surface not covered in rustic-looking wood is a fine, ceiling-circling mural of American Indian themes that reflects Demian’s heritage. Bric-a-brac and artifacts hang everywhere, although the place of prominence above the bandstand has been reserved for a mounted buffalo head. The motif gets cute at times: All beverages arrive in glass canning jars, even half-gallon-size pitchers of beer.

Many patrons insist upon rigidly correct country-Western attire (the rules, amusingly, are at least as rigorous as those that govern haute couture ), but, by design, Buffalo Joe’s is for everyone, so don’t worry, be happy. Even a fellow clad in the remains of a partially shed business suit looked happily at home as he hopped inexpertly to the double-time rhythms of the “Hillbilly Rock.”

BUFFALO JOE’S 600 5th Ave., San Diego 236-1616 Full menu served 11 a.m. to closing daily Sandwiches and entrees $3.95 to $12.95. A meal for two, including a beer each, tax and tip, about $15 to $35.

Credit cards accepted