“I don’t think we anticipated quite what was gonna go down the first day,” says Jeremiah Matthews, telling me about the long-awaited reopening of The Original Ben’s Jr. Bar-B-Que in Fairhope.

Let’s put it this way: The opening was a long time coming, and people were hungry for it. They lined up around the iconic Fairhope restaurant on Thursday, Dec. 21, even though the opening hadn’t been publicized. By early afternoon the restaurant had to close, posting apologies on Facebook, saying they “will start new tomorrow with a better understanding of the demand.”

And they did. The crowds kept coming. To understand why, it helps to know that there’s a lot of history behind the curiously named little barbecue joint. It goes all the way back to the 1950s, when Ben Smith owned the namesake Ben’s in Mobile’s Crichton area. Kenny Lee of Spanish Fort learned the business from him and opened a Ben’s on the Causeway in the 1960s, where it remained until Hurricane Frederic demolished it in 1979. Lee’s son Kenneth “Bubba” Lee and his wife, Rise (rhymes with Lisa), opened Ben’s Jr. in Fairhope in 1986 and ran it until 2018, when Lee retired.

It was a tiny, character-rich place known for sweet tea served in big 24-ounce Mason jars, excellent burgers and a neighborhood vibe. It has been celebrated by author Rick Bragg, among others. It was missed.

Enter Will Fusaiotti, co-founder of the Mobile-based chicken-finger chain Foosackly’s, and Chef Jeremiah Matthews. Matthews’ experience ranges from work as corporate trainer for Ruby Tuesday to operating Daphne’s Southwood Kitchen, a restaurant recently showcased by Guy Fieri on “Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives.” Fusaiotti had been a patron of Ben’s, and Matthews had started his career in the restaurant business there as a teenager.

The two struck a deal to partner up, refurbish the place and reopen it. As with seemingly every construction project during and since the COVID-19 pandemic, it took quite a bit longer than anticipated. Fusaiotti and Matthews have spoken previously about the amount of work required, and the challenge of preserving the character of the place while doing it.

Finally, in the penultimate week of 2023, they were ready to open the doors. Or so they thought.

“You know, we didn’t do a soft opening, didn’t tell a whole lot of people when we were gonna open,” says Matthews. “I think the day before I told somebody and then we cooked some food for a few people.”

“It was probably the worst-kept secret,” says Fusaiotti. “And we kept pushing it back. It went from Tuesday to Wednesday to Thursday.”

“Next thing I know, it got posted on [Facebook page] ‘What’s Happening Fairhope,’” Matthews says. “Thursday morning at 9:30 people started lining up. When I looked out the windows, we’re like, ‘What is going on out there?’

He reckons he’s opened 15 restaurants, going back to his Ruby Tuesday days, and he’d never seen anything like it.

“We had done like six butts and four briskets, we were thinking, oh, we’ll start off easy and kind of work our way into it,” Matthews says. “And, man, by 1:30 I was like, ‘Oh, we’re done, we’ve got to close, we’re out of too many things.’”

Rapid adaptations followed over the next couple of days: More food, more staff, more prep. Matthews says they doubled the amount of meat they were smoking on a daily basis, then nearly doubled it again. He’s thinking about bringing in a second smoker.

Fusaiotti said “the biggest miss” was predicting the balance of demand. He was on the scene five years ago for the restaurant’s last day under the Lees. Business was 85% burgers. “So I carried that with me for five years that, okay, when we reopen the people that missed us the most are going to be the burger people and that’s what we’re going to sell. Well, that’s, that’s what happened the first day. It was probably 75% barbecue and we were just not really prepared for that.”

“So we’re still trying to adjust that in our brains a little bit and not overproduce but that was probably the biggest whiff that we had going in,” says Fusaiotti. “They just kind of hit us and things were not what we planned for. That’s what life’s all about, isn’t it?”

After closing for Christmas Eve and Christmas Day, Ben’s reopened on Tuesday for its fourth day of business, and that’s when I found a window to sneak in right before the dinner rush hit.

Entering Ben’s, you approach the counter window via a small lobby that stayed full of incoming patrons most of the time I was there. Order placed, you find yourself a table. Very soon, that massive Mason jar of sweet tea you ordered will arrive.

Despite being “torn down to the studs,” as Matthews puts it, the clean new interior has a broken-in vibe. That comes from distressed tin and old paneling, plus a dusting of authentic memorabilia – more on that in a minute.

The food didn’t take long to come out, though Matthews says improving the speed of orders is still a goal. My brisket platter ($18, with bread, pickle slices and two sides) featured a generous portion of fork-tender meat so flavorful that I didn’t even think about asking for extra sauce. I carried half of it home to my wife, the real brisket snob in the household, who took one bite and exclaimed “Oh my gosh, that’s good!” That’s high praise.

I also had to try the All-American Cheeseburger ($12 with one side; one of several options including several with bacon and your choice of cheese). It lived up to the name, a perfectly straightforward cheeseburger built around a half-pound patty with a firmness that tells you they’re using quality beef. Matthews says it’s 85-15 ground round, the same specification Bubba Lee used. “I try to change as little as possible, while still making some things better than they were,” Matthews says. “And the burger was one thing I really didn’t want to try to mess with. That’s why you want the same bacon, the same burgers, same cheeses, and buns that Bubba had.”

What really stood out about the experience was the fact that, despite the blowout opening, the ample staff (wearing, of course, the tie-dyed shirts that are a Ben’s hallmark) went about its business calmly and efficiently, without any sign of being stressed out or freaked out. Fusaiotti and Matthews both give full credit for that to their general manager, Ian Few.

“We got real lucky,” says Matthews. “We did. We made a major hire. … It doesn’t matter how bad we get crushed in there, he stays cool. Levelheaded. The service staff feeds off of that. Like, if they see their leader being calm, they’re calm. He’s been a blessing and our employees in general have been fantastic. They’ve all handled it well. Everybody from our dishwashers up to our kitchen managers.”

“He gets after it but he doesn’t let you see the stress and he’s cool under fire,” seconds Fusaiotti, speaking of Few. “And I think the crew kind of responds to that in a similar way. If your boss is all nerves, then it’ll stress you out.”

“I mean, I feel fantastic about the hire,” says Fusaiotti. “It was one of these things where, we’re three minutes into reading his resume, I said, ‘This is the guy.’ And then three minutes into the conversation I knew this was the guy. And we probably had 80 resumes, and a lot of good ones.

“Sometimes in a relationship you question it, but every decision he’s made and every reaction to whatever has been thrown at him has just been met for me, I couldn’t ask for more in a partner and more in an operator,” says Fusaiotti. “So from that perspective, I feel very, very fortunate that the restaurant’s in very, very good hands.”

The co-owners also credit Few with building ties to some folks with a deep connection to Ben’s, starting with Rise Lee. Bubba Lee died in 2021, but she’s a living link to the restaurant’s roots.

“Ian formed a bond with her like instantly,” says Fusaiotti. “She brought in a lot of the old collages and things that had been up there for a long time. Instead of [us] trying to recreate something old, she brought things like that 91-92 Braves pennant that was up in there forever.”

Such artifacts naturally lend character to the new Ben’s, he says, so the ambiance doesn’t feel forced.

“I couldn’t have been more pleased with that and I think the old-timers, if you will, recognize it and appreciate it as well,” says Fusaiotti.

“When she started bringing stuff around, then the original Ben, Ben Smith, who founded the place, his grandson brought in some stuff from the original Ben’s, the one on the Causeway, the one in Mobile,” says Matthews. “So it’s kind of cool to see, they’re bringing out all the old memorabilia.

“And I’ve got Rise working the cash register a few days a week and walking around the dining room, shaking hands, giving hugs. You know, to see the all the old-timers, all the old regulars who used to come in, their interaction with her, it’s fantastic and it kind of makes it feel like it kind of makes it feel like it never really went away.”

It did go away. But it came back. And the signs make it easy to predict that it’ll be around for a while.

“We’re bringing in a lot more groceries than I’m used to buying,” says Matthews.

Ben’s Jr. is at 552 N. Section St. in Fairhope; it’s open 11 a.m.-to 9 p.m. daily. For holiday hours and updates, visit www.facebook.com/BensBBQFairhope.