From a large wagon grill perched outside Mrs. Trimmer’s wafts occasional puffs of smoke fueled by bits of meat charring over red oak. The carcinogenic aroma hypnotically lures unsuspecting noses into the quaint courtyard in which the rancho-style restaurant resides, spurring hunger and curiosity among passersby like no other eatery in Old Town has done in more than a century.

Mrs. Trimmer’s is a new research-based “concession” leased from the state by brothers David and Tony Gaussoin. It’s situated at the entrance of San Diego Old Town Historical State Park on San Diego Avenue, about 50 yards before pedestrians become ensnared in the touristy jungle that is the Bazaar del Mundo.

In their bid for the space, the Gaussoins were required to submit a plan showing they could replicate a dining experience reminiscent of the mid-1800s. After months of combing through historical archives, they pinpointed the furnishings and prudish attire of the era while stumbling upon the culinary legacy of Juana Trimmer, who lived on the site with her husband from 1872 to 1874.

Trimmer was known to feed the neighborhood from her front patio, supposedly borrowing from a potpourri of cultures in her cooking. The records indicate she used olives and figs introduced by Spanish missionaries; sausages, potatoes and mustards from Central Europeans; and grilled meats commonly served among early California landholders.

Mrs. Trimmer’s of 2008 gives diners both an earnest and frivolous taste of the past. Servers are dressed in Civil War clothing crafted by a professional seamstress. Antiques, gilded mirrors and gloomy old paintings accent the small wood-beamed interior, lending charm and authenticity. Although our early settlers would have undoubtedly popped a few eyeballs over the room’s electric “candle” chandeliers, and um, a framed image of Liberace I saw hiding behind an 1851 piano.

The food adheres fairly to what I’m guessing marked the joy of Mrs. Trimmer’s cooking, sparing visitors the cheese-riddled Cal-Mex fare and birdbath margaritas indigenous to the neighborhood today. Unfortunately, the wagon grill parked near the expansive outdoor patio is used only for roasting corn and searing little pieces of meat to send out those bewitching smoke signals. Air pollution control forbids denser smoke clouds, which means most of the grilling occurs in the kitchen.

With the exception of tortilla chips served with garlicky, ketchup-red salsa (both very good), plus guacamole made tableside and a grilled quesadilla incorporating fire-roasted peppers, meal choices are more barbecue focused. And what flies off the restaurant’s modern gas grill tastes somehow as charry as though it were cooked over hot embers by the ranchos.

Bratwurst poached in Pilsner beer and then grilled is tucked into a torta roll with onions, dill pickle and mustard, making for a superior tasting sandwich. Mrs. Trimmer’s husband was a Prussian immigrant, so perhaps some of these German kingdom ingredients indeed found their way into her meals back then.

My companion’s T-bone steak was hearty and unadulterated, arriving a tad more well-done than ordered, but with precise waffle-patterned grill markings that imparted optimum flavor. The meat was served with coleslaw and perfectly cooked baby gold potatoes; their skins seasoned softly with salt and pepper.

A generous portion of jumbo white shrimp took on an irresistible grilled flavor as well. The entrée gives you two skewers, each fully inhabited by about six of the sweet-tasting crustaceans. A glaze of orange-jalapeno marmalade was used sparingly in the cooking process, which we appreciated after sampling it straight up from an extra portion that came on the plate. Cloying and sticky, it tasted like Sysco. A heaping of mediocre “tomato rice” rounded out the entrée.

The ownership prides itself on the carne asada, which apparently diverts from the ordinary because of extra citrus that goes into the marinade. Had I learned this earlier into our meal, we would’ve surely coupled it with the fresh guacamole that started us out. Other options include pork chops stuffed with cornbread, poblano chilies and Cotija cheese; citrus-marinated grilled chicken; Angus burgers; and fresh fish of the day. Come winter, the menu will embody slow-cooked stews and roasts, I’m told.

Dining in Old Town has never been my thing. But when the urge strikes next time for a grilled hunk of protein flavored with a touch of history, I’ll gladly step back to the past in this sincerely resurrected spirit of Mrs. Trimmer.