Hey there, little fella, would you like the chicken tenders or the Hawaiian Punch pizza? The cheeseburger — with fries, of course — or the chicken soup with bitsy stars? The Happy Meal? An excellent choice. Would you like to add a glass of wine or a house martini for $12?
Rare is the restaurant that can speak effectively across multiple generations, but at Little Original Joe’s in the Marina, I encountered college students giggling and octogenarians hugging their favorite server goodbye. The age diversity of its clientele belies a simple fact: Little Original Joe’s is a restaurant for children.
I do not say that pejoratively. I’ve enjoyed my visits to Little Original Joe’s quite a bit and am awarding it one star, a designation that my co-critic Cesar Hernandez and I reserve for restaurants that we deem good and therefore recommend. When I send someone to Little OJ’s, I know they are likely to be charmed by the elegant space with soaring ceilings and acres of windows, that they’ll find something to delight them on the large menu, and, perhaps most importantly, that they will be well looked after, as children should be.
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Left: The chicken tenders are available with a variety of sauces, such as the spicy honey bomba seen here.
Right: The spicy rigatoni vodka is a Little Original Joe’s staple.
Photos by Jessica Christian/S.F. Chronicle
Above: The chicken tenders are available with a variety of sauces, such as the spicy honey bomba seen here.
Below: The spicy rigatoni vodka is a Little Original Joe’s staple.
Photos by Jessica Christian/S.F. Chronicle
The zucchini fries are a show-stopping centerpiece found on many tables at Little Original Joe’s during both lunch and dinner.
Jessica Christian/S.F. Chronicle
In a moment when, according to Anthropic insiders and Polymarket, the odds that AI will cause human extinction and that the 49ers will win next year’s Super Bowl are roughly even, what a respite it is to retreat into the cocoon of childhood, but with all the vices of adulthood. Owners Elena and John Duggan, siblings who are the third generation to shepherd the Original Joe’s brand, say that their focus is on “comfort, consistency, care and familiarity.” The luckiest children experience all four, and whether or not you were among them, you can find them, for the most part, at Little Original Joe’s.
In 1937, John and Elena Duggan’s grandfather — their mother Marie’s father, Tony Rodin — opened the original Original Joe’s in the Tenderloin. Two years later, Rodin and his business partners opened a second location on the corner of Chestnut and Fillmore in the Marina, three blocks from where Little Original Joe’s now stands. (Those partners — Louis Rocca, Bruno Scatena, and Romano and Adolph Della Santina — would go on to open Original Joe’s in San Jose, Joe’s of Westlake, and Marin Joe’s, respectively.) The Chestnut Street Joe’s closed in 1992, and a fire shuttered the Tenderloin location in 2007.
It was then that the Duggan siblings stepped in and stepped up, lobbying their parents to resurrect the family business in a fresh neighborhood. They settled on a spacious location at the corner of Union and Stockton, and Original Joe’s North Beach has been packing them in since opening in 2012.
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The menu at Little Original Joe’s was designed to be welcoming for families, with a mix of Italian American classics and Americana, including pizza, chicken tenders and a burger.
Jessica Christian/S.F. Chronicle
In the intervening 14 years, it’s seemed as if every year — sometimes every six months — has brought word of a new business in the Original Joe’s family. In 2014, Bruno Scatena’s daughter sold Joe’s of Westlake to the Duggans; it rebooted under the Original Joe’s brand two years later after an extensive renovation. Little Original Joe’s in West Portal opened in 2020 as a neighborhood grab-and-go market after COVID-19 made Elena and John’s dreams of a full-service restaurant unfeasible. They got a do-over in 2024 with the launch of Little Original Joe’s in the Marina, just months after the ribbon-cutting for Elena’s, the siblings’ popular, if not critically acclaimed, foray into Mexican food. A gigantic Original Joe’s opened in Walnut Creek last year, and, in 2027, Original Joe’s Cable Car will dip a toe into a fast-casual format in West Portal. All are, as they say at Wharton, crushing it.
Several staples that loyal patrons know and love from Original Joe’s can be found on the menu at Little OJ’s, such as the housemade ravioli ($29) and chicken parmigiana ($31). But whereas the North Beach restaurant is dim and denlike — father’s office — Little Original Joe’s is housed in an open, airy art deco building that the Duggans envisioned as a welcoming space for families. They designed the menu accordingly with pizza, chicken tenders and a cheeseburger that has more in common with a Big Mac than it does with the hamburger sandwich on sourdough served at Original Joe’s. When I spoke with the Duggan siblings, Elena told me that she and John were “serious as heart attacks.” “But we don’t want to pass on that seriousness to the customer,” John added.
Presumably the chicken tendies ($20 at dinner as a starter; $24 at lunch as an entrée, with fries) are a hit with the kids, but as my visits fell during particularly child-unfriendly times, I can’t definitively say. What I can confirm is Elena Duggan’s assertion that “the fanciest people” can be seen dipping battered tenders into ramekins of ranch and honey Dijon with elegant bejeweled fingers. There is no shame in ordering these morsels of fried chicken, sublimely juicy and stacked six to an order like a Jenga tower, nor the LOJ cheeseburger ($24, with fries), which my colleague Cesar has correctly described as “uncomplicatedly delicious.”
Left: Little Original Joe’s sells even more orders of “Elena’s espresso martini” than it does of the spicy rigatoni vodka.
Right: The LOJ cheeseburger is a more traditional take than Original Joe’s unique hamburger sandwich on sourdough.
Photos by Jessica Christian/S.F. Chronicle
Above: Little Original Joe’s sells even more orders of “Elena’s espresso martini” than it does of the spicy rigatoni vodka.
Below: The LOJ cheeseburger is a more traditional take than Original Joe’s unique hamburger sandwich on sourdough.
Photos by Jessica Christian/S.F. Chronicle
Children need their veggies too. The showstopping centerpiece at many a table is a towering tangle of zucchini fries ($19), piled sky-high on a silver platter. The squash are deseeded and cut into skinny strips before being battered, fried and consecrated with a shower of Parmesan cheese. They are irresistible straight out of the fryer, slightly more resistable the longer they sit, although the accompanying basil aioli covers a multitude of sins. For something less greasy, the shaved Brussels sprouts salad ($19) is nearly as dramatic in its presentation — picture a mound roughly the size and shape of a Shriners fez — and incredibly tasty, dressed as it is with toasted walnuts, pecorino cheese and a citrusy vinaigrette. It’s a salad you can eat with a spoon.
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At lunch, Little OJ’s offers the LOJ Happy Meal ($24), a petite chicken Caesar salad with French fries and an “elite D.C.,” which, for those of us who do not imbibe, is a reference to Diet Coke, here served in a fancy ribbed glass with pebble ice and a citrus wedge. On a Wednesday afternoon, as the Little League World Series played on the television behind the bar, two women in their twenties sat gleefully munching their way through their Happy Meals. Clad in athleisure with a 40 oz. Stanley tumbler dominating the table, they had elected to add on two $12 glasses of wine (one white, one sparkling), alternating sips with their Diet Cokes. I imagine this might be their weekly post-Pilates ritual, much the same as those Little Leaguers no doubt retire to a local Pizza Hut after their games.
The Duggans refer to Little Original Joe’s as a “clubhouse” for the neighborhood, and that feels accurate. At times, the attentive, adept front of house staff feel like camp counselors, organizing fun for their charges. One evening, a table of three soft-spoken young adults, college age, unpacked art supplies. To their delight, a thoughtful manager brought over coloring sheets. Another night at the bar, my cousin and I sat next to a couple celebrating a birthday. Our gregarious bartender, Juan, decanted tiny portions of a frothy espresso martini into four mini coupes — just the right size for our wee childlike hands — and passed them across the bar as a little treat. He had hoped to include the two women next to us so he could line up all six of us “like Candy Crush,” but unfortunately they were sticking to Elite D.C.s.
Spiked slushies, such as the strawberry limoncello and Dole Whip seen here, are among Little Original Joe’s numerous signature drinks.
Jessica Christian/S.F. Chronicle
Little Original Joe’s sells more of those espresso martinis ($17), made with Graffeo coffee and a murderer’s row of sweet liqueurs, than they do orders of rigatoni with spicy vodka sauce ($29), which is really saying something. Also popular and equally treacherous are the spiked slushies, which come in flavors of strawberry limoncello and Dole Whip ($17). A potent combo of the two, which mimics a Lava Flow, goes by “Mary’s Marina Vice” on the menu. Who is Mary? “Oh, she’s a regular with a ‘Real Housewives’ podcast,” my server replied.
Juan told us that the kitchen could often accommodate whims and requests. If a picky eater wants a chicken Caesar wrap ($20), only available on the lunch menu, at dinnertime, that’s no problem. Juan’s pro tip is to substitute the fried tenders — coated in spicy honey bomba sauce if ya nasty — for the rotisserie chicken in the wrap (an additional $4).
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Sometimes the children are naughty. On certain nights, the “clubhouse for the Marina” atmosphere at the bar can get a little out of hand, and the obliging, make-yourself-at-home hospitality that is a hallmark of Original Joe’s restaurants is no match for bad behavior. One Monday evening, I witnessed the owner of a large golden retriever, who was already mostly blocking a walkway that led to the kitchen, hand the dog’s leash to a bar patron across the aisle. The man holding the leash encouraged those who needed to pass to limbo underneath — including a server, weighted down with multiple plates and a tight smile.
The Little Original Joe’s “Happy Meal” consists of a chicken Caesar salad, French fries and its “elite” Diet Coke.
Jessica Christian/S.F. Chronicle
The Little Original Joe’s team has comfort, care and familiarity on lock, but where the kitchen struggles is consistency. The something-for-everyone approach means the menu is extensive, and if you stray too far from the tried-and-true hits, it’s very possible to have a bad meal: Pan-seared Atlantic salmon ($37) was overcooked wedding food. Pizzas, despite occupying a prominent spot on the menu, are not the move. The caviar, chicken tender and Parmesan truffle fries tower ($60), while a fun idea, is a gimmick gone wrong, with the cloying, musky scent of truffle oil overpwhelming all else. Don’t get creative with your order at Little OJ’s; stick to the spicy rigatoni.
The Duggans’ Original Joe’s brand now spans three counties, and I would not be surprised if they added North and South Bay locations in the coming years. Why wouldn’t they? The formula is dialed in — red sauce, “Papa Loves Mambo,” aggressive midcentury nostalgia with modern finishes — and people cannot get enough. But I would choose Little Original Joe’s over those joints any day. Even though a massive black-and-white photograph of Tony Rodin keeps watch over the dining room, John and Elena Duggan aren’t trying to create a living memorial to their mother and grandfather at Little OJ’s. This restaurant belongs to the next generation. The kids are in charge, and they’re all right.
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