October 4, 2001 - L.J.'s: Southern barbecue on (formerly) Douglas Avenue - (currently on East Avenue, Pawtucket)  By MERIDITH FORD

Providence Journal Restaurant Reviewer

Between the Route 66 sign and the jar of plastic pig snouts on the counter, the kitchen window of L.J.'s barbecue looms -- steam rising from the pots of collard greens and baked beans.

Providence is a bit north for collards, so I asked Bernie Watson, the man cooking behind the counter, if he was from the south. `Yeah,'' he said, ``South Providence.''

Fair enough.

L.J.'s looks a little like the set of Come Back to the Five & Dime, Jimmy Dean, Jimmy Dean. The wall under the kitchen window is made of galvanized steel -- the kind used on tin roofs. Framed along the mustard-colored walls are picture sleeves from Bernie's collection of 45s -- everything from Duke Ellington to Ike and Tina Turner.

Bernie owns the place with wife, Linda Jane, the restaurant's namesake, along with Bernie's grandmother, Leola Jean. They both grew up in Rhode Island, but Bernie has roots in Arkansas and Virginia. He learned the smoking technique from an uncle in Arkansas, and one of the biggest parts of the decor is seen as you sit perched on one of the counter stools and watch him cook.

L.J.'s counter person is more than a counter person -- she's part public relations, part tour guide, part hostess. She'll quickly rattle off the side dishes on the menu and the multitude of ``go withs,'' while Linda gathers the specifics of an order. People come and go, and as they do they're greeted with heart-felt hellos and good-byes from all three.

Hospitality and barbecue go together, and you'll get good doses of both at L.J.'s.

Meaty and tender

The pork ribs are meaty and tender, slathered in a sauce that's sweet, but peppery. It's good on the pulled pork sandwich, too -- a giant grilled bun overflowing with heaps of succulent pork that's laced with a cinnamony sweetness -- and I recommend you drizzle on a little extra.

Extras are easy to come by: There's a small sideboard with lots of napkins, extra sauce, ketchup and hot sauce to spruce things up just the way you want them.

Other extras -- such as the side dishes -- are as good a reason to eat at L.J.'s as the barbecue.

First of all, there are those collard greens. Linda says they're fresh, but they taste like the ones my grandmother made, which were canned -- and which I loved. Once you've cooked greens with bits of pork long enough, as Bernie does, it doesn't matter.

My only disappointment was that the corn bread -- while fluffy, light and filled with corn flavor -- was too sweet and cakelike to sop up the juices from the greens.

Almost everything at L.J.'s is made from scratch.

Even when something falls a little short -- such as the homemade pickles, which just weren't pickled long enough to put a puckery pout on my face -- I still have to give an ``A'' for effort. How many restaurants are making their own pickles?

Barbecued beans are sweet, with lots of onion and bacon flavor. I wanted to add a little more pizzazz to them, and after we left wondered why I didn't take advantage of the mustard and hot sauce to do just that.

One of the best side dishes is an order of the candied yams. Nothing like any I've tasted in the South, they were simple, soft yams sprinkled with cinnamon and nutmeg and just a hint of sugar.

The macaroni-and-cheese is the old-fashioned kind. You remember -- elbow macaroni actually layered with gobs of oeey-gooey cheese and then baked in the oven. They reminded me of every family reunion I've ever been to.

Sweet potato pie

Linda is responsible for a lot of the cooking, too, such as the pickles and the desserts. Dessert is usually a selection of pies and sometimes cakes, although things might change daily.

For me, the selection couldn't have come closer to hitting the spot -- pecan pie and sweet potato pie. Sweet potato pie is a Southerner's benchmark for a good pie maker, and Linda's filling meets the mark -- it's rich with the flavor of sweet potatoes and cream, with a smooth, velvety texture. Most important, it's not overly sweet.

Both pies would have been much better with a homemade crust, but that didn't stop me from gobbling up bites of the rich pecan filling chock full of enormous pecan halves left on my husband's plate.

Throughout the evening, we had all been watching the teen tournament of Jeopardy! on the television that hangs from a wall in the small kitchen.

`Figures that the only time we can get anything right is when it's a teen tournament,'' commented our counter person, tour guide, and hostess.

Well, you got the barbecue right