Why is it that things are never as good as you remember them to be from years ago. What happens? Do you build up the memories to be something better than the actual experience... better than anything could ever be? Is it how one hangs on to youthful nostalgia, the sentimentality of which must be preserved by not allowing the present to overshadow the treasured past? Are memories real or are they dreams that are only based on experiences from the past? Are you ever going to talk about the frickin' restaurant?
I first visited Bub's sometime in 1982 while on tour with a traveling rock band who were to play The Rusty Nail in Sunderland. They were a handful, and my job was to keep them on stage at night and out of jail by day. The band leader - no stranger to the road life and apparently no stranger to Bub's - actually got up before it was dark out, pounded on my motel door, and demanded that we all jump in the van and go to Bub's. In those days, if any of those guys got up before dark, they were seriously motivated. Such serious motivation was strictly reserved for acquisition or consumption of drugs, alcohol, and young girls and various combinations or permutations of the three. I was not looking forward to meeting Bub.
As I remember it, we rolled up to a corrugated tin shack in the middle of the woods. It had no windows, no sign, and smoke was billowing out of a vent in the roof. There was a door on each end of this long narrow building. I was afraid.
We walked in, and were met with an intoxicating waft of hickory smoke. There was a long row of serving tables and cauldrons stretching the length of the building. You grabbed a plate and a fork, walked through the room and pointed at what you wanted and it was tossed on to your plate. When you got to the end of the building, you pulled a beer from an icy washtub, you paid cash, and you went out the door and sat at a picnic table.
I don't remember what I had. All that I do remember, beyond the previously related tale of how I came to be there, and my dim recollection of the structure, is that for the last 28 years, whenever someone would talk about this barbecue joint or that one, I'd get this strange feeling. I'd say "Bub's," and then my mind would just drift away. I did know, somehow, that whatever I had there that day had been great.
"Bub's?," they'd say.
"Yeah," I 'd answer, "it was some shack out in the middle of the woods in western Massachusetts.
"Never heard of it."
"I dunno, it's probably not there any more. Man. It was awesome."
Sometimes, I'd think I must have dreamed it up. All I could really remember was how good it was. in a shack. in the woods.
Flash forward, 28 years... driving down Route 9 in Hadley with my newly-relocated-to-out-there GF, and as I cross Route 116 I see a sign pointing north. "Bub's Barbecue - 4 miles." Huh? What? No way! I realize that we are actually near Sunderland... it must be the place. We careen up the road, my mouth watering. I had the pulled pork sandwich that day. Went back this past Sunday and had the brisket sandwich.
I'm here to tell you that sometimes you CAN go home. Sometimes, things ARE as good as you remembered. In fact, some times, they're better.
For less than $10 you can get a pulled pork or brisket sandwich with a bottomless cup of soda, and the "hot and cold buffet." For a few more bucks you can get a slab of ribs. Pulled pork - excellent. Brisket - awesome. Buffet - unbelievably great: french fries, hickory smoked roast potatoes, sweet potatoes, collard greens, barbecued beans, dirty rice, roast chicken and vegetable soup, Cole slaw, potato salad, pasta salad, pickled beets, corn salad, and I forget what else... The french fries, dirty rice, collard greens and smoked potatoes are particularly noteworthy. I don't want to give Bub any ideas, but a sandwich with one side and Cole slaw would be a pretty good deal anywhere.
I don't know if there ever really was a windowless tin shack.
I don't know if Route 116 used to be out in the woods.
Seems the young folks out here never heard of a place called "The Rusty Nail."
And I still don't know what I ate that day some 28 years ago.
But, I do know that whatever it was, wherever it was, however it was all those years ago, what I had at Bub's the day before yesterday did not let me and my memories down at all.
When does that happen in real life? Really.
I guess I'll have to go back again soon to make sure Bub's is really there. I might as well have the ribs while I'm checking. read more