Overview: Jo's Diner
If you’re expecting an atmosphere marked by neon signs, vinyl booths, and jukebox music, Jo’s Diner will let you down. Ditto if you come knocking for greasy-spoon fare, which isn’t the standard here.
If you’re expecting an atmosphere marked by neon signs, vinyl booths, and jukebox music, Jo’s Diner will let you down.
Ditto if you come knocking for greasy-spoon fare, which isn’t the standard here.
Even the boisterous Guy Fieri from the Food Network was probably taken aback when he arrived at this Mission Hills “diner” a few years ago to film a segment for his Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives series.
What he landed upon instead was a quaint, non-flashy restaurant distinguished by pillowed banquettes, soothing yellow walls, and scratch-made meals — which easily win the approval of epicures possessing far more refined palates than Fieri’s.
Luxurious stocks and gravies, nutty Gruyère cheese, and seasonal vegetables are among the high-quality elements featured across the menu, which covers breakfast, lunch, and dinner.
Restaurateur Ric Libiran replaced his former Cafe Bleu with Jo’s Diner in 2017, saying at that time that his intention was “to bring something different to the neighborhood.”
The former concept boasted well-executed French food, which has historically intimidated many on the hunt for casual, affordable meals. So Libiran changed course with a more approachable plan that fuses American familiarity with carryover touches of sexy French nuances.
Though lovingly embraced by neighborhood regulars over the last nine years, the restaurant remains mysteriously undiscovered by many San Diegans. A lack of active social-media presence may account for that.
Love at first slurp
Libiran’s French onion soup is love at first slurp.
Poke your spoon through the generous mantle of toasted Gruyere that crowns the wine-spiked broth and behold gobs of tenderly cooked red onions occupying the bottom of the crock. They add caramelized sweetness to the broth’s rich, beef base. The soup is a top seller — and a requisite sidekick no matter what time of the day or year I pop in.
Grilled ham and cheese sandwich. (Photo by Frank Sabatini Jr.)
The short rib French dip on a toasted baguette and the bacon-wrapped meatloaf are show-stoppers as well.
Television chef Guy Fieri was rightfully struck by the dipping jus that accompanies the meaty sandwich, commending how well the rendered fat from the slow-cooked beef unites with the braise of red wine and veggies.
The sandwich is topped with melted Gruyere, adding further dreaminess.
The meatloaf is another show-stopper, which Libiran enrobes in bacon strips before baking.
He uses grass-fed beef mixed with diced Pasilla peppers and Pecorino cheese. It’s brushed with a brown sugar-ketchup glaze and draped in glossy demi-glace. Soon, very soon, it will pass my lips.
Soup and half-sandwich combo
In a few recent lunch visits, I opted for the soup and half-sandwich combo, always choosing the French onion instead of tomato bisque or house-made chili con carne.
The chicken pesto sandwich features a thick, juicy breast topped with lettuce, tomato, red onions, fresh basil pesto, and (again) melted Gruyere cheese, which I can eat until the Alpine cows come home.
The fillings are captured on two thick slices of grilled, buttery sourdough sourced from Bread & Cie in Hillcrest, according to a waitress. In my book, it steals the prize over the restaurant’s grilled ham and cheese sandwich.
The construct of that sandwich, served also between grilled sourdough, revealed oozy mild cheddar and chunks of house-baked ham. But if only the ham was thinly sliced, which would have camouflaged the tough, chewy sections of the roast that I apparently got.
As with many large cuts of fibrous meat, tenderness is best achieved through shavings rather than cubes.
My only other disappointment at Jo’s Diner — a minor, recent one — was with an appetizer of house-made lumpia filled with diced pork, shrimp, and veggies.
Albacore tuna melt with fries. (Photo by Frank Sabatini Jr.)
The innards were marvelous as the flavors of every ingredient sprung forth equally. And the citrus-y, tangy dipping sauces were fitting. But the flaky casings were too crispy, likely because the lumpia were overcooked by a critical minute, just enough to give them a dark-tan color and vaguely burnt flavor.
Other favorable standouts include the albacore tuna melt, which breaks tradition slightly with its restrained measure of mayonnaise and the inclusion of avocado. Airy house-made biscuits topped generously with sausage gravy and green onions were seductively tastier than most.
And an omelet with seasonal veggies plus cheddar, Gruyere, and Pecorino cheeses sent a visitor from Germany in my group over the moon one morning. He declared it was the best omelet he ever had anywhere.
Jo’s Diner also offers traditional and gourmet milkshakes, such as chocolate ganache, as well as beer, wine, and champagne.
