H.I. Ribsters is an otherwise likable restaurant with a fatal flaw. It's a limited-menu barbecued rib and chicken emporium that serves really mediocre ribs and chicken. This is barbecue of the blanched and baked-with-liquid-smoke variety, resulting in blah-flavored products that even reasonable tenderness and a decent smoky hot sauce cannot completely disguise.
The astute 'cue connoisseur will realize something is amiss before opening the restaurant door. Because of the use of smoke in its original dry form, great rib houses almost always smell as if they are on fire. With the exception of the aroma from a strategically situated lobby fireplace, H.I. Ribsters doesn't smell a whole lot differently from the Reuben's it has replaced.
This last comparison is not idly made, since the same corporation--the Grace Restaurant Company--owns both of these restaurant chains (along with others, including Baxter's and Coco's). Now I'm not the sort of guy who turns his nose up at a place simply because there's one just like it in Oregon
or Japan (which is where other H.I. Ribsters are, in fact, located). Big corporations bring both capital and management resources to the table, and patrons do benefit in tangible ways.
Design- and decor-wise, for example, H.I. Ribsters is a handsome, comfortable, even interesting establishment. A great deal of the restaurant's square footage is devoted to its lounge, which is sort of a shrine to the American saloon through the last half of the twentieth century. Believe it or not, the big Fifties-style jukebox, the Sixties soul tapes, the Seventies strobe-lighted dance floor and the Eighties TV sports setup cast an eclectic, clubby charm. This is enhanced by the ministrations of enthusiastic cocktail waitresses wearing the appropriate-for-any-decade little white cheerleader costumes.
The main multilevel dining area is brightly lighted, colorfully carpeted and decorated with an interesting array of wall-mounted sports and theatre memorabilia. The visual focal point is an open kitchen, which seems a little odd under the ersatz culinary circumstances, but is attractive nonetheless. Also pleasing is that tables are set far enough apart to ensure comfort and privacy.
Another advantage of a corporate budget is investment in conscientious personnel screening and a sincere staff-training program. I've been griping a lot about service lately, and I must say how tremendously impressed I am with the job being done by H.I. Ribsters' young staff. Not only are they informed, solicitous and cordial, they all seem to be able to think on their feet.
Unfortunately, they're called upon to do this quite a bit in handling the criticisms leveled at the disappointing food. Coupled with the banal barbecue is a menu that is way too short. Limited choice makes sense as a policy for a corporate purchasing department, but lack of menu variety never reflects much regard for patrons.
This situation is not most keenly apparent in the entree listings. Here, if the barbecued baby backs and chicken do not arouse the appetite, a customer can at least order the one daily fresh-fish special, the one entree salad, the fried shrimp or a couple of beef items (the sliced London broil is quite acceptable).
What is surprising is that a restaurant with such a commitment to the heavy-lounge, good-times theme offers only one appetizer. Wing Dings are chicken wings fried in a nice crunchy batter, then laced with hot oil and served with ranch dressing for dipping. They're pretty decent--the chicken is very moist--but they are hardly the sort of item to please everyone.
Surprising again is that the restaurant offers only one a la carte side dish, an onion ring loaf. These crisp, salty and cayenne-laced rings are only served in a loaf pan lined with wax paper, not formed into a loaf as one is led to expect. Dinners do come with bland, squishy bread, a good creamy cole slaw and crisp McDonald's-style French fries, but the latter are irregularly portioned and will seem ungenerous to the person with the short pile.
If the menu is surprising in its brevity to this point, it gets downright amazing when you are ready for some ice cream or fruit cobbler for dessert. You see, H.I. Ribsters offers no, as in zero, desserts. This is not easy for our waitress to explain.
"We're simple," she says. In fact, she says this every time we point out our surprise about the length of the menu. But we don't let up about the total absence of dessert.
Finally she cracks and confesses that H.I. Ribsters doesn't sell desserts because it is attached to a Coco's. It seems the Grace Company has an internal rivalry issue on its hands. The bakery-oriented Coco's does not want to see its business diluted by an upstart sibling. H.I. Ribsters' customers are actually told they should go to Coco's if they are interested in a piece of pie.
Fine. But as long as I'm going to another restaurant for dessert, I may as well go to still another for superior ribs. Make no bones about that.
Okay. Phoenix trivia time. Complete the following sentence.
Chaps is:
a) a saloon with a patio at 20th Street and Camelback
b) a great place to get hit on any Friday night
c) winner of the 1985 New Times' Best of Phoenix award for barbecued ribs.
I had no idea about "c" until I dined at Chaps on a Monday night recently. I actually had no idea that the place even had a dining room. I've only been there on Friday nights.
But dining room there is. It is dark green, wood-accented and windowed along two walls, and betrays just the slightest traces of rough usage. On one of the interior walls there is a giant blowup of the news clip proclaiming the Best of Phoenix accomplishment.
If you fail to catch sight of this sign, although you'd have to be blind or in another restaurant to miss it, never fear. In the menu listings, the legend "Best Ribs Award Winner" is listed right underneath and in print just as large as Barbecued Baby Back Ribs. If that's still a tad too subtle, the cover of the menu is emblazoned with the slogan "Best Ribs in Town."
Four years is, of course, an eternity in the restaurant business. We learn from our waitress that Chaps has, in fact, been sold twice since 1985. But our waitress also assures us that these are the very same ribs as always.
(This is getting exciting, isn't it? I mean, aren't you dying to find out if these things are any good?)
First, allow me to report that my ultimate judgment is I like Chaps, the restaurant, and will happily eat there again. I like the slightly crusty saloon ambiance. I like the place's spirit of generosity, reflected in lavish portions and a repeated willingness on the part of the staff to accommodate the special requests of guests.
Most of all, I like the menu selection which manages to touch all the right bases without getting either too esoteric or too precious. Yeah, these guys are pumping the barbecue and burger business, but you can also order stuff like pizza bagels and vegetable platters and even a soup and salad with muffin combo. And if you're a dessert eater, why, you can have some ice cream or apple pie or cheesecake right in the very same restaurant in which you have your entree!
But the ribs, Steve. Tell us about the ribs.
Well, my guest and I both order the barbecue chicken and ribs combo ($11.95). If I may be allowed to cut quickly past our appetizer order of onion strings (these are freshly prepared to order and come out sweet and crunchy, but they have too much batter per string and take too long if the fryer is busy) and our entree-included dinner salad (pretty on its pewter plate and made extra special with a generous dousing of creamy avocado dressing), let me get right to the chase. The truth is that this is some of the best barbecued chicken you will ever eat.
Oh, the ribs are also a fundamentally professional effort, authentically slow-smoked over hickory. It's just that these ribs have likely been smoked and held a little too long, with the result that they are not very tender. This shortcoming is compounded by the fact that Chaps does not remove the backstrap, a thin piece of elastic fat on the back of the rack, and this also hinders an easy chew.
Furthermore, Chaps marinates its ribs in a sauce with a very heavy vinegar component, which can also abet toughening. The ribs are served drenched in this sauce, which is on the hot side, and it's not likely to be a favorite with those folks who like their sauce sweet. What makes the chicken so good is that the sauce is used with a more restrained hand, and the result is thoroughly tender, sweet, smoky and delicious.
I'd be remiss in not pointing out that dinner also comes with several delicious accompaniments. Particularly good are a sweet and crusty corn muffin and a crock of New England-style baked beans in which the strong vinegar taste of the barbecue sauce works well. Other nice touches include a choice of French fries (string or steak-cut) and a finger bowl (not Wet-naps) for cleaning up afterward.
In all, it's a major league effort. I'm more than willing to forgive the slight shortcomings of the ribs on the strength of everything else that is served. I particularly like the hot apple pie prepared cobbler-style in a dough-lined bowl, then topped with vanilla ice cream.
It may not be as exciting as Friday night . . . but it will certainly do for a Monday.
