BEAN SPROUT LEGENDARY WEST HOLLYWOOD HANGOUT LOOKS TO EXPAND.

Byline: Brent Hopkins Staff Writer

WEST HOLLYWOOD - Twenty-one kinds of chili, 78 sorts of burgers, more than 200 beers, 700 menu items, and soon, two locations.

The original dingy, beat-up burger-and-brew joint known as Barney's Beanery reeks of nine decades of checkered history. Started in 1920 by ex-Navy cook John Anthony - dubbed Barney by his friends for no apparent reason - the site served as a watering hole for drivers on the old Route 66 when it relocated to its current spot in 1927. Once the weary motorists reached California, they left their out-of-state plates at the bar - decor that remains decades later.

Initially, the shack only served men and would later gain notoriety for its barroom sign suggesting gays take their business elsewhere. Over the years, protests brought that sign down, but even in its more hardscrabble days, the restaurant claimed a clientele as varied as Jean Harlow, John Barrymore and Clark Gable.

Janis Joplin carved her name into her favorite table to commemorate many a night in the wild roadhouse on Santa Monica Boulevard, one that still draws stars and tourists alike. The yowling singer slugged back her last vodka-and-orange at the West Hollywood landmark the night she died. The Doors used to prowl its cluttered interior when they weren't handling business at nearby Elektra Records.

It's been the site of both billiards battles and civil rights struggles, and now, the storied site will spawn another. This summer, Barney's Beanery will open its first branch along Santa Monica's Promenade.

``We finally got a second location,'' said David Houston, co-owner and president of the restaurant. ``It only took us 84 years to get our act together and get around to it.''

Granted, he didn't own it the whole time, purchasing it three years ago after many years of dining at its scarred wood booths. He and his partners have some experience with multi-unit operations, also running the Q's Billiards chain in West Los Angeles, Pasadena and Santa Barbara. Based on his time with Q's, he thinks he can make the $1 million they're sinking into the new 6,000-square-foot site on the Promenade a success. After a six-month test, he'll consider expanding again to more sites.

``It'll be hard,'' he conceded while walking the darkened interior of the original site. ``We need to find some good, damaged wood, maybe a floor that bows in like it does right here. We need to really break it in.''

Richard Cherra, a regular for the past few years, has spent many a meal sprawled across the rainbow-hued booths, drinking beer and refining his screenplay with his friend Harry Klos. The 30-year-old writer from Culver City digs the layers of history that have built up over the walls.

``You don't get this anywhere else in L.A.,'' he said from a window booth. ``Everything else changes every couple of years, but this has been the same since Janis Joplin.''

Of the many musicians associated with the joint, Joplin boasts the most colorful history. Allegedly, the singer and Jim Morrison had a falling out one night, leading her to clock him over the head with a bottle of booze. While Barney's doesn't claim this as gospel, it does little to dispel the legend. In its various incarnations, the restaurant has been a haunt for the music industry, roughneck bikers, college kids and tourists, often at the same time.

``We'd get drunk, come out of The Troubadour and end up at Barney's,'' said Michael Ochs, who headed West Coast publicity for Columbia Records in the early 1970s and now runs a music photo archive in Venice. ``But I don't remember much, probably because we were always drunk. It had incredibly busy decor, sort of a beatnik and biker crowd.''

It also claims contemporary celebrities, as well. Quentin Tarantino used to spread out his note pads on the collage-covered tables to pen his early screenplays surrounded by the odd mishmash of pop culture.

But the same lore that's made Barney's a favorite for decades also proves to be its biggest challenge in branching out. So much of its charm is built into its history, restaurant experts questioned whether it could replicate the same feeling in a satellite location.

``I think Barney's a one-of,'' said Andy Harris, producer of ``The Mario Martinoli Restaurant Show'' on KFI-AM (640). ``It was indigenous to West Hollywood, and has survived and evolved along with the changes in that community. When you move that to the Third Street Promenade, which is a completely different demographic with much higher rent, I'm a little befuddled.''

Even Houston agrees that the idea of multiple spots feels weird.

``It's almost like sacrilege to open a second location,'' he said. ``It's like your children finding out you've got a second marriage.''

Despite the mixed emotions, he remains committed to branching out. Ever since he took control of the Beanery, he's looked for new spots, certain that the raucous atmosphere that he's loved for years will translate in far-flung spots. For months, he and his sister Lisa, a manager at the restaurant, have been scouring eBay, antique shops and yard sales for old signs, vintage pictures and license plates. Armed with cartons of Americana, they aim to whip up 84 years of replicated history in a hurry.

``The challenge is to make them as similar as possible,'' Houston said. ``When you come into Barney's, it's just a beaten-up old roadhouse. Why that works for people, I don't know. It works for me though and, fortunately, there's enough people like me to make it work as a business.''

Brent Hopkins, [phone]

brent.hopkins(at)dailynews.com

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5 photos

Photo:

(1 -- 5 -- color) David Houston, above, co-owner of Barney's Beanery, plans to open a second branch of the West Hollywood landmark, left, known for its collection of odd items, like those at top.

David Sprague/Staff Photographer