After escaping nearby Alfie’s, entering The New Buffalo Restaurant is kind of like walking into TV’s Cheers; everybody seems to know each other’s names or at least their aliases. And after reassuring everyone you’re not a cop, you’ll be warmly accepted.
My first visit included having a Stetson-sporting cowboy buy me a beer and tell me his epic life story of tornadoes, lost homes, divorce, a tricky little addiction and, finally, redemption in the form of a regular barstool at the New Buffalo. I love a happy ending.
And why is it called the “New Buffalo”? The owners painted the place, which earned it a “new” designation.