Where there's smoke

Photo by Dhanraj Emanuel

The Wrangler Family Barbecue
901 El Cajon Blvd.
El Cajon
619-442-1170

Drive with your window down as you exit eastbound I-8 at El Cajon Boulevard and you may smell The Wrangler Family Barbecue before you see it. Once you pull into the parking lot, often filled with bikes and big rigs, there's no mistaking the sweet, smoky scent, so thick it seems to hang heavy in the air. I don't claim to be a barbecue expert; nor have I traveled through the famed barbecue belts of the South, but something at the restaurant sure smells right to me.  

The Wrangler Family Barbecue has had three owners since it opened in 1965. The first was the family that started the business; the most recent is a longtime employee. Not much seems to have changed since those early days-not the formica tables, knotty-pine paneling, frontier-themed decor or the now-gray-haired regulars. Some aspects take getting used to; find a seat along the east wall of the restaurant and you'll be eating under a giant, stuffed head of a moose, buffalo or deer.  

The ordering is done the same as it always has-off a large menu board that hangs above the front counter. Selections are simple: three meats, served alone or on combination plates. Beef is the most popular here-if you arrive early before the crowd descends, you can see them slicing the first slabs off an enormous, Flintstones-sized square chuck, which gets slowly smoked with oak wood, in a pit oven, for 16 to 18 hours. It's tender but in dire need of flavoring; the little side dish of barbecue sauce helps. When I asked two kitchen guys about the sauce, I was told that it's an old, and secret, recipe. I told them that I tasted cloves and got a barely perceptible affirmative nod. The warm, sweet flavor of the spice mellows the tanginess of the sauce; I like it better than many I've tried.  

Sides, from baked beans to macaroni salad, get ladled into separate compartments of sectioned, plastic cafeteria plates. If there's less-appetizing dinnerware in existence, I don't want to eat off of it. But the coleslaw is excellent, fresh and crunchy, and very lightly dressed. Better than the beef are pork spare ribs, heftier and meatier than baby backs. These have the telltale blush of a smoke ring along their edges, a good sign that they've been cooked low and slow. The meat pulls cleanly off the bone, but it still has a definite chew, much preferable to the mushy meat that often falls off the bones of baby-back ribs. Like the beef, the ribs benefit from a dip in barbecue sauce.  

But the absolute must-order at The Wrangler is the ham. I've never thought much of ham; on the scale of favorite cuts of pork, and there are many, it's always landed very low on the list. At holiday dinners, it's usually the one thing I don't put on my plate. But this ham is a different animal entirely. It's definitely the juiciest, most flavorful meat served here. No sauce is needed. The meat is savory and a little sweet, delicious on its own-its moistness even survived the re-heating test.  

For a city girl, the experience here, beyond the food, is a glimpse into another world. On one visit-no joke-a replica of The Dukes of Hazzard's General Lee was in the parking lot and even gave its signature horn toot as it drove away. And the food, especially the ham, is worth a visit. Don't just take my word for it-I was directed to Wrangler by a seatmate at a recent dinner, whose side job is a professional barbecue judge. So, try it and judge for yourself.     

Write to candicew@sdcitybeat.com and editor@sdcitybeat.com.

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