If not for the flat screen TVs and masked servers, walking into Bully’s East would feel like entering a time capsule. At the center of the dimly lit restaurant stands a grand mahogany bar, from which classic cocktails are shuttled to a series of discrete dining rooms banked by large, plush booths upholstered in dark red “leather” (really, a vinyl approximation). Perhaps more than anything, the fact the place is packed feels like a throwback. I’m not talking limited capacity due to Covid packed, but every table taken, no available seating til after 8 on a Saturday night packed.
I might call it vintage Bully’s, except that era existed before my time. It was 50 years ago this year that the steakhouse and sports bar took over an A&W Root Beer location in Mission Valley. In San Diego, it’s one of few such restaurants remaining. Nearby Albie’s Beef Inn shuttered after 53 years at the end of 2015. North Park’s Red Fox Steakhouse closed in 2019, after 60 years being a part of the Lafayette Hotel (though a second edition being built across El Cajon Boulevard, slated to open this summer, it remains to be seen whether the venue can recapture the magic).
Bully’ East was actually the third Bully’s restaurant opened by its namesake, George Bullington. Bully’s North made it 40 years in Del Mar, before the 2008 recession ended its run. The original Bully’s, established in Bird Rock, La Jolla, had just hit the half-century mark when it wound down in 2017.
I’m tempted to see this spate of closures as evidence modern diners lack interest in the classic, midcentury styled steakhouse. (Unless maybe it’s a gaudy, Vegas-style modern day re-creation of one — I’m lookin’ at you, $6.5 million Born and Raised in Little Italy.) I’m tempted to believe that prime rib can no longer headline a successful restaurant in 2021.
But again, here I am, just off the freeway in Mission Valley, barely able to get a booth at the unlikely last Bully’s standing. Here comes my three-olive martini, and here comes that prime rib. It’s available in 8-ounce “regular cut” ($31), all the way up to the 38-ounce “beast” (market price).
I settle on the relatively modest 11-ounce “half cut,” ($38) cooked medium. It shows a charred edge next to a thick ribbon of fat, but it’s mostly smooth and pink, with just a hint of bloody red seeping from the tender steak. Ramekins of beefy jus and horseradish cream come standard, as does a dinner salad. Brussels sprouts covered with caramelized onions are my chosen side dish, beating out broccoli, mac and cheese, and four different preparations of potato.
It’s a plate some may call nostalgic, and others may deem an anachronism. Certainly, the median age of Bully’s diners has to be at least double that of those standing in line at a hot Nashville chicken counter. But hey, coming back from an uncertain year, from stacks of take-out containers and streaming video, there’s a warmth and comfort to dining inside a time capsule. Maybe that’s why so many of us are here, dining on prime rib, steak, and seafood this unofficial summer evening.
Or maybe it’s the city’s most loyal set of regular customers, coming home to a San Diego classic that’s kept up a winning formula for five decades.
If not for the flat screen TVs and masked servers, walking into Bully’s East would feel like entering a time capsule. At the center of the dimly lit restaurant stands a grand mahogany bar, from which classic cocktails are shuttled to a series of discrete dining rooms banked by large, plush booths upholstered in dark red “leather” (really, a vinyl approximation). Perhaps more than anything, the fact the place is packed feels like a throwback. I’m not talking limited capacity due to Covid packed, but every table taken, no available seating til after 8 on a Saturday night packed.
I might call it vintage Bully’s, except that era existed before my time. It was 50 years ago this year that the steakhouse and sports bar took over an A&W Root Beer location in Mission Valley. In San Diego, it’s one of few such restaurants remaining. Nearby Albie’s Beef Inn shuttered after 53 years at the end of 2015. North Park’s Red Fox Steakhouse closed in 2019, after 60 years being a part of the Lafayette Hotel (though a second edition being built across El Cajon Boulevard, slated to open this summer, it remains to be seen whether the venue can recapture the magic).
Bully’ East was actually the third Bully’s restaurant opened by its namesake, George Bullington. Bully’s North made it 40 years in Del Mar, before the 2008 recession ended its run. The original Bully’s, established in Bird Rock, La Jolla, had just hit the half-century mark when it wound down in 2017.
I’m tempted to see this spate of closures as evidence modern diners lack interest in the classic, midcentury styled steakhouse. (Unless maybe it’s a gaudy, Vegas-style modern day re-creation of one — I’m lookin’ at you, $6.5 million Born and Raised in Little Italy.) I’m tempted to believe that prime rib can no longer headline a successful restaurant in 2021.
But again, here I am, just off the freeway in Mission Valley, barely able to get a booth at the unlikely last Bully’s standing. Here comes my three-olive martini, and here comes that prime rib. It’s available in 8-ounce “regular cut” ($31), all the way up to the 38-ounce “beast” (market price).
I settle on the relatively modest 11-ounce “half cut,” ($38) cooked medium. It shows a charred edge next to a thick ribbon of fat, but it’s mostly smooth and pink, with just a hint of bloody red seeping from the tender steak. Ramekins of beefy jus and horseradish cream come standard, as does a dinner salad. Brussels sprouts covered with caramelized onions are my chosen side dish, beating out broccoli, mac and cheese, and four different preparations of potato.
It’s a plate some may call nostalgic, and others may deem an anachronism. Certainly, the median age of Bully’s diners has to be at least double that of those standing in line at a hot Nashville chicken counter. But hey, coming back from an uncertain year, from stacks of take-out containers and streaming video, there’s a warmth and comfort to dining inside a time capsule. Maybe that’s why so many of us are here, dining on prime rib, steak, and seafood this unofficial summer evening.
Or maybe it’s the city’s most loyal set of regular customers, coming home to a San Diego classic that’s kept up a winning formula for five decades.
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