Photo by Sasha ContrerasIn a business park close to the northwesternmost corner of Orange County exists a time warp: Papa's Western BBQ. Wood floors—and ceilings and walls—are offset by kerosene lamps at each table, all of it giving Papa's a honky-tonk-meets-prairie-revival vibe; the kind of place where waitresses call you “babe,” fountain drinks arrive in jars, and dinner is ready when the cook clangs a bell. (A wall next to the cashier features promotional cards highlighting dozens of up-and-coming country stars, such fresh faces as Hank Williams Sr. and Merle Haggard.)
Papa's is proudly anachronistic, but more important, it specializes in Santa Maria-style barbecue, a tradition native to the coastal central California town that dates to the time when Mexico's rule over California wasn't just a MEChA dream. So, like the Californios of yore, the Papa's crew smokes folds of tri-tips and other meat cuts over red oak chips that impart a fragrant, salty flavor. While the meat is smoking, cooks baste it with a garlic-pepper marinade that looks like and has the consistency of distilled brake fluid but tastes like hours of loving devotion. As the Papa's folks prepare their namesake, they also simultaneously boil a cauldron of a mixed pinto-red bean alternately known as pinquito or poquito that's native only to the Santa Maria Valley. This hybrid is slightly sweet, heartier than a regular pinto bean and perfect for meat accompaniment: sweet legume love.
Santa Maria-style barbecue is a notoriously difficult tradition to master due to its intensive, lengthy preparation—the only other local 'cue concern that dares attempt it is Huntington Beach's beloved Lou's Oak Oven. But Papa's succeeds tremendously. The signature tri-tip is profoundly succulent: cooked medium-rare but with a charred skin, each bite spurts with remembrances of bastes past. Baby back ribs are split apart like Legos and served sauceless save for that marinade. Chicken, steaks, pork loin: anything bathed in that dark, dense marinade transforms into something divine. For those who want more—and that would be everyone—the marinade even comes in thimbles for chunk dunking.
Papa's is also one of the last places in Southern California to grill linguiça, a spicy, shiny sausage native to Portugal. “Where can I buy Portuguese food around here?” frantic Portuguese write to me, desperate after the closing of Cerritos' Portazil Bakery two years ago. Irmãos, here's your culinary wormhole: linguiça served as a plate or within the confines of grilled garlic bread minimally decorated with lettuce, a reminder of the days when Portuguese immigrants called Cerritos and Artesia home, the most delicious nostalgia since succotash.
PAPA'S WESTERN BBQ, 10900 LOS ALAMITOS BLVD., LOS ALAMITOS,
(562) 594-9251; WWW.PAPASWESTERNBBQ.COM.
