Bub played on the PGA golf circuit and cooked for the players. It was in South Florida that he had a chance encounter with a state inmate who slipped him a secret bbq sauce recipe. The note reportedly lay in his wallet for 40 years before it was rediscovered, inspiring retired Bub to go into the restaurant business. We only had the opportunity to talk with Deek, who now runs the place, but we have it on good faith that that recipe still lives in Bub's wallet today.
So how about that restaurant? In addition to the famous mystery recipe and great back story-making the free 2005 Golden Tee videogame by the bathroom all the more hilarious and appropriate-Bub's also serves up some mighty fine barbeque. Between the three of us, we tried the pulled pork sandwich, the bison burger and the veggie burger.
Sounds like a small selection from their long list of roast beasts, but it's hard to squeeze much more in after you have met the sides.
What to do when you get there: First, place your order at the counter, where those of age can also find three excellent seasonal beers on tap (and on rotation), then proceed to the smorgasbord of hot and cold side dishes. "All you can eat" was our downfall. You can fill up endless plates heaped with Southern staples. For vegetarians, the orange-sweet potatoes, French fries, dirty rice and a slew of cold sides are all fair game.
The cold salad bar was not up to par; the coleslaw, corn salad, pasta salad and vegetable sides were all perfectly palatable, but completely eclipsed by the fattier, greasier and altogether more heavenly (non-vegetarian) baked beans, hickory-smoked potatoes and the unlikely enemy, collard greens. Both these veggies-flavored with bacon fat-and the deceptive chicken broth-based vegetable soup were chock-full of animal ... yummm.
Long story short, by the time your order is announced over the loudspeaker, Bub's may have gotten the best of your appetite. We, your trusty reviewers, had to push on.
We are at odds on the following point. Laura, who had the bison, thinks the hot sides are Bub's real draw, despite the high quality of their meat. And Meg, lover of (live) bird and beast, had mixed feelings about her burger, the only vegetarian option on the menu. Laura sampled it and reports that it had much more spice than your typical Boca burger, tasting almost like a taco … and left her craving that taco. Becky's pulled pork was the winner by a long shot (we're out of solid golf metaphors). It was deliciously saucy, slopped generously on a completely superfluous bun. We had to ask Deek: "What is pulled pork and why is it so magical?" We learned that the fat is literally hand-pulled from the cooked meat by Deek's wife for hours every morning, leaving "pulled" piles of lean pork shreds.
Bub's invariably leaves its mark on you, sometimes all the way up to the elbows. There are two rolls of paper towels on every table to de-grease after your meal.
One final anecdote-"Bub" gets his name from a 1920s radio show that opened with the greeting, "Howdy Bub!" This comedy act happened to be on the air while he was being birthed by a midwife, and the "howdy" punctuated his arrival. Naturally, Deek senior, a blacksmith by trade, took to the coincidence, and so today we enjoy our Southern barbecue at Bub's, as opposed to Howard's, the name originally chosen for young Bub. Personally, we think it's for the best.
Dishes to try: pulled pork anything, alligator (you have be braver than us), and baby back ribs, which Deek reports are a customer favorite-apparently because they take less time than spare ribs to devour. To this tendency towards quick BBQ consumption, Laura, as a Mississippian, can validly attest: "Now you know why us Southerners are so huge."
Maybe McDonald's is not to blame, after all.
Suggest your favorite restaurant for Laura Mortimer and Becky Touger to review at lmortimer08@amherst.edu or btouger08@amherst.edu.