Tuesday, October 10, 2006
If Davis Square seems too far a trek for finger-lickin' barbeque, new kid on the block Soul Fire is a cheaper, quality alternative right off the B-line.
Wyeth Lynch, owner and founder of Soul Fire, conducted in-depth research on the origin and variations of barbecue and it shows. Lynch graduated from Williams College, dabbled in VC, but found his true passion in smoking...meat. Lynch then toured the country to study up on sauces, dry rubs, and barbeque lore before opening Soul Fire just six weeks ago. Incidently, Lynch believes everyone should have easy access to good barbeque, and, as a result designed his restaurant to be exceptionally handicapped-accessible, with spacious aisles and wide front entrance.
When I visited, Soul Fire did not yet have its liquor license ("it's coming" I was promised), but a refreshing Arnold Palmer (half lemonade, half iced tea; $2.50) did wonders for quenching my thirst and not dehydrating me on the 80-degree day. To start, Bunches and I dug into some Fried Macaroni and Cheese Bites ($4), cheesy battered balls of elbow macaroni, and some sticky, delicious Honey Wings ($5). I experimented with Soul Fire's array of heated (meaning warm, as in temperature) sauces and found the Louisiana Sweet Barbecue sauce to be a perfect complement to the creamy, salty macaroni and cheese bites.
Twenty napkins and two handiwipes later, we were ready to get dirty all over again. The Sliced Brisket ($10) was bit dry but revved up sufficently with some vinegar and pepper sauce. The tender, battered Fried Catfish ($12.50), was wonderful as is, and only brightened when dipped into the southern tartar sauce. And the ribs, oh the ribs! Baby back ribs are dry rubbed and then smoked using a mixture of woods, which means the meat takes on a more subtle flavor (re: you don't feel as it you're chewing tender piece of mesquite). The serve-yourself sauce bar is made for the ribs and the sumptuous Hickory Roast Chicken ($8), which is a bargain at $11 for a whole. All entrees are served atop a piece of thick white bread, a vestige of an old-time barbeque custom which dictated you wipe your hands on a piece a bread, which you would then eat later.
Soul Fire's side dishes almost overshadow the entrees and should be sampled in in large quantities. The Corn Bread ($1.50) was light, moist, containing whole kernels, and the cole slaw crisp, fresh, and not overly mayonnaised. Unsurprisingly, I found the Mac & Cheese to be the show-stopper. A thicker, Cheddar-based cheese sauce coated the elbow macaroni and crushed potato chips formed a salty exterior crust.
By the way, Soul Fire resists being called a "joint", and rightly so, considering its aesthetic is more trendy, college town than country truck-stop. The long bar made of vintage album covers and all environmentally-friendly dishware certainly don't transport you to 'bama, but you'll hardly care when you taste what is indubitably good ol' barbeque.
The Info
Soul Fire
182 Harvard Ave., Allston
www.soulfirebbq.com
The Rating: 8.2
Wyeth Lynch, owner and founder of Soul Fire, conducted in-depth research on the origin and variations of barbecue and it shows. Lynch graduated from Williams College, dabbled in VC, but found his true passion in smoking...meat. Lynch then toured the country to study up on sauces, dry rubs, and barbeque lore before opening Soul Fire just six weeks ago. Incidently, Lynch believes everyone should have easy access to good barbeque, and, as a result designed his restaurant to be exceptionally handicapped-accessible, with spacious aisles and wide front entrance.
When I visited, Soul Fire did not yet have its liquor license ("it's coming" I was promised), but a refreshing Arnold Palmer (half lemonade, half iced tea; $2.50) did wonders for quenching my thirst and not dehydrating me on the 80-degree day. To start, Bunches and I dug into some Fried Macaroni and Cheese Bites ($4), cheesy battered balls of elbow macaroni, and some sticky, delicious Honey Wings ($5). I experimented with Soul Fire's array of heated (meaning warm, as in temperature) sauces and found the Louisiana Sweet Barbecue sauce to be a perfect complement to the creamy, salty macaroni and cheese bites.
Twenty napkins and two handiwipes later, we were ready to get dirty all over again. The Sliced Brisket ($10) was bit dry but revved up sufficently with some vinegar and pepper sauce. The tender, battered Fried Catfish ($12.50), was wonderful as is, and only brightened when dipped into the southern tartar sauce. And the ribs, oh the ribs! Baby back ribs are dry rubbed and then smoked using a mixture of woods, which means the meat takes on a more subtle flavor (re: you don't feel as it you're chewing tender piece of mesquite). The serve-yourself sauce bar is made for the ribs and the sumptuous Hickory Roast Chicken ($8), which is a bargain at $11 for a whole. All entrees are served atop a piece of thick white bread, a vestige of an old-time barbeque custom which dictated you wipe your hands on a piece a bread, which you would then eat later.
Soul Fire's side dishes almost overshadow the entrees and should be sampled in in large quantities. The Corn Bread ($1.50) was light, moist, containing whole kernels, and the cole slaw crisp, fresh, and not overly mayonnaised. Unsurprisingly, I found the Mac & Cheese to be the show-stopper. A thicker, Cheddar-based cheese sauce coated the elbow macaroni and crushed potato chips formed a salty exterior crust.
By the way, Soul Fire resists being called a "joint", and rightly so, considering its aesthetic is more trendy, college town than country truck-stop. The long bar made of vintage album covers and all environmentally-friendly dishware certainly don't transport you to 'bama, but you'll hardly care when you taste what is indubitably good ol' barbeque.
The Info
Soul Fire
182 Harvard Ave., Allston
www.soulfirebbq.com
# posted by Kookie @ 10:01 PM 
