Sarah's been writing Bub's Player of the Week for over three years, so it seemed only natural that we review this veritable bastion of barbecue in Western Massachusetts. But first, a disclaimer: Bub's does not pay The Student for Sarah's poetic stylings. They did, once, a long time ago-but not today. We are not bought and paid for.
The second disclaimer: We are not from barbecue cities. We are not even from barbecue states. So we apologize to Texans, Kansans, people from St. Louis and to our former roommate, Joe Vladeck '06, who considers Washington, D.C. far enough south to know good barbecue when he sees, smells or tastes it.
Then again, Massachusetts isn't a barbecue state, either, so as Nick has been known to say, at least since his recent retinal surgery, in the land of the blind, the one-eyed man is king. And Bub's really is better than a one-eyed man (no offense to Nick).
The food, for the most part, is delicious. The barbecue sauce is just sweet enough, the meat is always tender, the ostrich is always ... there (hey, we don't like "there" any more than you do, but what word would you use to describe ostrich?), the hot and cold bar is always unlimited-and the baked beans are always worth the gas that comes later.
Surprisingly, the ribs (baby back: $13.95) were unspectacular. If there is such thing as meat that is too tender, this is it; it was a race to get the rib to Sarah's mouth before it fell off the bone and dropped into her lap. And there is a special circle in Hell for people who eat their ribs with a fork and knife.
Enough carping, though. The chicken ($6.95 for a quarter, $9.95 for a half) is awesome. It's neither dry on the inside nor is its crispy skin drowning in barbecue sauce. You can request all dark, all white or the standard quarter chicken. The pulled pork lives up to the chicken's standards. Sweet and tender, it's worth the Yom Kippur prayers (just don't tell our parents we said so). However, you're better off getting the platter ($10.95) than the sandwich ($6.95), as the bun overwhelmed the delicate piggyness (the platter includes a piece of white bread). The kielbasa ($1 extra) is good-standard grilled meat, no barbecue sauce on that one. The barbecue brisket ($10.95) is also solid.
We should say more about the unlimited hot and cold bar. The entrees (if you can call them that) often take at least 15 minutes before your name is called on the loudspeaker. And in that time, both of us have been known to pig out in style (Bub's' motto) on the sweet potatoes, tangy baked beans, the hickory smoked potatoes, crispy french fries (the visiting Flaming Chef dipped them in the pulled pork) and the Rothbard family's Thanksgiving staple, collard greens. So be forewarned: You're going to pig out even before your massive plate of meat arrives. Go hungry, or don't go at all.
If you take out, Bub's claims your hot-cold bar consumption is limited to two or three choices. Who the hell would take out, though? The ambience is part roadside hut, part temple to pig, part family-friendly eatery, and we love all of it. The outdoor seating on picnic tables beneath a tent is fun (except for the mosquitoes), but the best place to sit is the closed-in porch at the front of the restaurant which boasts picnic-style seating rather than booths like in the restaurant itself. Don't go looking for napkins-paper towels are on the table, along with two different hot sauces. (Extra barbecue sauce is not; it may be available by request.)
So grab your large fountain drink ($1.50 for unlimited refills) and your non-Jewish (or non-observing) friends and follow the signs on 116 going north. This is Western Massachusetts barbecue at its finest.