The writing is on the wall. In just several more weeks, local carnivores will have heard the raves about the ribs, burgers and chicken at Jack’s Old Fashion Broiler and begin lining up feverishly with those repeat customers who’ve been coming away with the pellicle of juicy charred meats on their tongues.

To set the record straight, Jack’s isn’t a franchise. Corporate-style neon signage and a prominent street-side placement in a Hillcrest strip plaza shared by Starbucks and Blockbuster Video might lead you to believe otherwise. Also, there’s nobody named Jack running the place. The eatery is owned by a silent investor who entrusted Chef Terry Wells to execute his grilling talents and homey recipes, which Wells terms as “the kind of food grandmas and mothers would throw together for summer picnics.”

Wells makes from scratch a sweet and savory barbecue sauce hiding Coca-Cola in its long list of ingredients, plus a buttermilk-garlic dipping sauce for french fries and a superior au jus built from beef and veal bones that accompanies a buttery prime rib Beef Dip. “Jack,” he says, is purely fictitious and was chosen because the name “has a little click to it.”

So it is Wells and his small staff who field the kudos deservedly. In two separate visits, I overheard customers effuse from across the counter their liking for the food – especially the baby back ribs, which get baked in a smoky “solution” for a few hours before they’re slapped onto a high-flame grill. We’re talking ribs so tender that a 1-year-old could break them apart into neat individual servings and suck their bones clean.

“I love your coleslaw!” exclaimed a woman on her way out, referring to the slaw’s sweet undertone, which is achieved by hints of pineapple. Another customer told Wells his spaghetti-cut pasta salad tossed with slivered bell peppers and red onions in a light oil dressing was the best she ever had.

Yet for the friends and I who have eaten here since it opened a few weeks ago, the side dishes are incidentals to meatier, more succulent fare that is long overdue in a neighborhood dominated by Asian and Mexican eateries. The burgers, for instance, don’t get any better. They’re made from fresh ground sirloin from Central Meats and take on a slathering of homemade Thousand Island dressing that meshes perfectly with their steaky charred flavor. You can also order them Hawaiian style or topped with chili.

If you come knocking for broiled chicken, the birds originate from Sonoma, where they’re corn fed and raised without hormones or antibiotics. Wells says he doesn’t mind spending the extra money on them because “they’re tastier and juicier than most.” And though slightly smaller, we found they packed plenty of excellent meat and sported a flavorful crispy skin for the low price point ($4.95 for a quarter and $7.95 for a half). Either portion is cloaked with Wells’ barbecue sauce and includes a side of coleslaw along with a choice of side dish – the pasta salad or a heaping of natural cut fries that easily feeds two people. The accompanying garlic sauce for the spuds is addicting.

And though we also loved the Beef Dip sandwich on a buttered hoagie roll served with homemade horseradish cream sauce and that fabulous au jus, it’ll be difficult to resist ordering the ribs in repeat visits. Here is where you enter barbecue heaven with the trip costing as low as $7.95 for four, $11.95 for seven or $15.95 for a full accordion of 12 meaty bones.

There’s also a Chopped Pork Sandwich, a broiled Ham Steak & Cheese Sandwich with grilled onions and Jack’s Famous Double Dog that’s “sauced” and charbroiled. In one of my visits, I shared with a companion the Chopped Salad that doesn’t escape the inclusion of meat. It’s a hearty arrangement of romaine lettuce and veggies crowned with chopped prime beef and chicken. A less garlicky version of the french-fry dipping sauce serves as the dressing.

For dessert, there’s only one option – a dense, delicious brownie made of bar chocolate and infused heavily with walnuts. After both of my visits, I ended up taking them home and discovered that a 10-second zap in the microwave raised their chocolaty moisture yet another notch.

Wells doesn’t cut corners in terms of quality. He grew in his family’s restaurant businesses in the Northeast before attending and teaching at the National Culinary School. He also cooked at the Fairbanks Ranch County Club, thus bringing an inordinate level of cooking experience to an eatery as casual as this. The food is served in black Styrofoam boxes, utensils are plastic, and the bright, clean atmosphere resembles something of a ’60s-style burger haunt, sans the overload of retro ornamentation and oldies music common to other restaurants aiming to provide nostalgic dining experiences.

Jack’s, no doubt, tastes and feels like the real deal.