Nouvelle Grandma
XX 1/2
Buddy's Homesick Cafe
8420 Greenwood Ave. N.
American.
Lunch and dinner ($4 to $7), 11:30 a.m. to 9 p.m. Sunday through Thursday; until 10 p.m. Friday, Saturday.
Lounge open until 2 a.m.
Full liquor.
Major credit cards accepted.
Nonsmoking area.
Reservations not accepted.
784-6430.
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Buddy's Homesick Cafe is a cultural and culinary throwback. The time is the mid-1950s; the place is a corner neighborhood hangout. The menu: burgers, shakes, sundaes, shrimp Louies, hot turkey sandwiches, meat loaf, pot roast, chicken a la king and chicken-fried steak.
Mashed potatoes and homemade gravy!
Who was in the kitchen back then? Grandma. Whose grandma? Somebody's. Anybody's. Some older woman who still managed to regard - after a lifetime of hot-stove labor - food as love.
A day or a night at Buddy's may or may not make you homesick. But unless you carry within you a heart of stone, it surely will make you nostalgic.
A couple of weeks ago I was sitting with Cyril Miller, the congenial operator of Seattle Super Smoke down in Seattle's industrial core south of the Kingdome. We were discussing the fate of the world over ribs, custom barbecue sauce and, of course, potato salad.
``Did you get to that party at Buddy's the other night?'' he asked, pointing with a clean rib.
``No,'' I said. ``I was working hard at Canlis, preparing a position paper on the dry martini.''
``I went,'' he said. ``Had the Cranberry Pot Roast.''
``How was it?'' I asked through my third napkin.
``It was,'' he said, looking off in the distance, ``like home.''
The American home is not what it used to be. Neither is the American kitchen. A short quarter of a century ago, everybody made pot roast. Anybody halfway through high school knew at least one recipe for meat loaf (even if it was only 2 pounds of hamburger and a small bag of stuffing, laced with a can of mushroom soup, celery, onions and a shot of ketchup; throw in a couple of eggs and a half cup of dry vermouth and it's still not bad . . . ).
But nowadays pot roast and meat loaf are too expensive to make at home. No, the meat's as inexpensive as ever. But time isn't. A good big pot roast (with tomatoes, mushrooms, browned onions and red wine) takes at least three hours, and preferably four, to slowly simmer.
Waste four hours a day on comfort food and you could lose your BMW in a couple of months, car phone and all.
You may not have the time. But Buddy's does. Buddy's Homesick Cafe, an exercise in applied nostalgia, was conceived by the Mitchell Brothers, Mark and David, and their director of operations, Gene Gates.
They approached husband and wife John and Kathy Casey to turn the idea into a restaurant. John Casey was a veteran front-of-the-house man (the Wild Ginger, most recently); Kathy Casey was the kitchen wizard who first catapulted Fuller's into national prominence (along with a masterly campaign by promotional genius Louis Richmond of the Seattle Sheraton).
Kathy Casey left Fuller's for Maxwell's Plum in New York a few years ago. There she encountered Ruth Adams Bronz, the owner-proprietor of Miss Ruby's Cafe in New York.
Bronz, a Houston native who was a scholar and advocate of regional American cooking, had first opened the original Miss Ruby's in Berkshire County, Mass., and developed an East Coast following.
Her emphasis was on authentic recipes from the American gastronomic past: things such as Green Pepper Hash, Chicken Short-cake and Scrapple. Some of Bronz's recipes are collected, incidentally, in ``Miss Ruby's American Cooking'' (Harper & Row; $22.95), a highly rewarding cookbook.
Casey worked with Bronz in New York and was influenced by her. Among the influences were two classics that ended up on Buddy's menu: Chicken-Fried Steak with Milk Gravy and the Cranberry Pot Roast that Cyril Miller had smiled over.
The Caseys looked over the space at North 85th and Greenwood Avenue North and carefully aged it 30 years.
Kathy developed the menu and recipes under contract as a consultant chef, then turned over the operation to Chris Smith, Buddy's kitchen manager. John Casey remained as general manager.
It is not the kind of place where you'd begin with an appetizer. You don't need to. There are fine soups, and salads, of course, available as starters or in larger portions. The Caesar salad, done with ``our own herbed croutons,'' cost $1.95 as a first course, $4.95 as an entree.
Buddy's burgers are hand-shaped, blended with a mix of confidential seasonings and sauces (a dash of Worchestershire among them) and grilled. They are unlike anything served at a national (or regional) chain. Prices range from $3.75 to $6. Try the Chili Burger with Buddy's homemade chili, Cheddar and Jalapeno Jack cheese, onions and sour cream.
You'll remember it for at least two days.
The Reuben Sandwich ($5.25) is among the best in the city. It contains the usual combination of corned beef, sauerkraut, Swiss cheese and Russian dressing, but the corned beef is far better than is typical. Supplied by S.E. Rykoff, it is 94 percent lean.
Originally, the restaurant offered its hot meal ``Homesick Specials'' only after 5 p.m. But customer demand for the Super Duper Meatloaf ($5.95), Chopped Sirloin with Mushroom Gravy ($6.95) and Roasted Turkey with Dressing ($6.95) forced the kitchen to offer at least some of them all day.
The single most self-indulgent dish on the menu is unquestionably Chicken-Fried Steak ($5.95).
``I adapted it from Ruth Bronz's recipe,'' Casey said, ``using more seasonings and a single-dip, egg-flour coating. It has a bit more assertive flavor but is somewhat lighter.''
Chicken-Fried Steak is not something to eat every night (unless another Great Depression comes along and makes it calorically necessary), and the typical, health-conscious consumer's reaction might be:
``Maybe I shouldn't have ordered it, and I certainly don't have to eat it all . . . ''
But realize that you probably will. I loved it.
The Northwest Cranberry Pot Roast ($6.95) is another Ruth Bronz adaptation. Despite the uncommon berry-protein juxtaposition, it is not a quirky California update of a food basic (it was a Cape Cod classic and can be braised with either red wine or hard cider).
Try the Shrimp Wiggle, the Peanut Butter and Jam with Banana sandwich and Charlie's Tuna Salad Platter. The Roast Turkey with Dressing is grand.
Beyond the marketing notion of 1950s memorabilia and a restoration of dignity to some neglected foods, there is a harder reality underlying Buddy's Homesick Cafe: cost versus value.
The splurge-and-excess direction of the 1980s restaurateurs may well be behind us. The mini-portions and maxi-billings are no longer chic, probably no longer acceptable.
Nothing at Buddy's costs more than $7, with a soup or salad, fresh vegetables and a homemade biscuit included.
``Value was the strategy,'' John Casey said. ``And not only value, but a very satisfying, substantial meal in the process. We see this as a major industry trend. Certainly for the time being; probably for at least the next five years.''
BUDDY'S NORTHWEST CRANBERRY POT ROAST
6 servings
1 cup flour, divided
1 1/2 teaspoons salt, plus extra to
taste, divided
1/4 teaspoon freshly ground black
pepper, plus extra to taste,
divided
1 (3-pound) pot roast, preferably
chuck
1/4 cup vegetable oil
2 cups red wine
2 cups beef broth
1 tablespoon red-wine vinegar
1 1/2 cups whole berry cranberry
sauce
4 medium carrots, peeled and cut
in 2-inch pieces
2 medium onions, peeled and quartered
1 small orange, peeled and quartered
1/2 cup diced celery
2 whole cloves
1 clove garlic, peeled and minced
1 bay leaf
1/4 teaspoon ground cinnamon
1/4 teaspoon whole thyme
4 cups pot roast broth
1/2 cup butter
1. Combine 1/2 cup of the flour, the salt and the pepper; rub into all surfaces of the meat. Heat the oil in a heavy Dutch oven or medium skillet set over medium heat and gently brown the roast on all sides.
2. Add the wine, broth, vinegar, cranberry sauce, carrots, onions, orange, celery, cloves, garlic, bay leaf, cinnamon and thyme. Cover and simmer over medium-low heat 3 to 3 1/2 hours, until tender.
3. Measure out the 4 cups of broth from the Dutch oven or skillet, adding water if necessary. Melt the butter in a heavy-bottom, medium-size saucepan over medium heat. Whisk in the remaining 1/2 cup flour. Cook for one minute and then slowly whisk in a little broth at a time, until all the broth is added and the mixture is free of lumps. Cook, whisking often, until thickened. Season with salt and pepper if desired.
4. Remove the roast to a serving dish and serve with carrots and onions around it (discard the orange pieces). Serve with gravy and mashed potatoes.
THIS RECIPE WAS TESTED BY SEATTLE TIMES HOME ECONOMIST CECE SULLIVAN. BENJAMIN BENSCHNEIDER AND BRUCE McKIM ARE TIMES STAFF PHOTOGRAPHERS.