Wabash, open since 1997, is located in an old Wabash Railroad depot and the restaurant follows the theme with menu sections like “Conductor’s Favorites,” and “Engineers Entrees.”
Wabash
is everything I dream of when I imagine old fashioned authentic barbeque and
the menu’s slogan explains why: “Always Smokin’ Something Good.” I don’t think
this is puffery.
While
we waited in the bar, a tobacco smoking area, for our meal we watched several
aluminum trays each topped with aluminum foil and filled with piled meat pass
by us from the smoke shack, a separate building, on their way to the kitchen. There
are two smoke-free dining areas on either side of the kitchen.
The
plain plaster walls were laden with railroad and music memorabilia. Wabash has
live music regularly and has a stage set up out back called the Blues Garden.
Next time I return I’ll be staying for a show.
Between
the three of us we ordered two baskets of Sweet Corn Nuggets from “All Aboard.”
The nuggets were crispy on the outside and had the consistency of sweet cream
corn on the inside. They were simple, rich and tasty but nothing particularly
special. We should have only ordered one basket because the portions
were ample. The nuggets were served with ranch that was creamy and lacked the
tartness I’ve noticed in many ranches. We theorized that it might be homemade.
Thode
and Williams both ordered Short End Rib Dinners which each came with two of
Wabash’s Signals and Switches, or sides. They both got beans and fries.
Williams
willingly relinquished one of his ribs, and I have to tell you it made me for the first time
question my control group. The meat was a little tough, although I thought, in
a nice way. The juice gushed in my mouth and the meat fell apart at a touch
from my teeth. The cartilage was almost edible after wading in its own juices
for so long. Each bite released sweet soft smoky flavor. The meat quality was a little fatty but in a good way, and I’m
usually of the school that cuts off the fat and throws it to the dogs. I ripped
it apart and gobbled it down.
I
have no idea how long this meat had been smoking but compared to what I’ve
tasted elsewhere, Wabash just might always be smokin’.
Williams
said that part of his slab was a little overcooked for his taste and that that
end was a bit burned. However, Williams explained, “I don’t think I got the
best ribs they ever served, but I see how this at its best would be the best.
That beings said, when my father is in town, I’ll bring him here,” a
particularly lofty compliment coming from Williams.
Conductor’s
Favorites provided an excellent variety of sandwich options. Brisket, ham,
turkey, sliced pork and pulled pork were all available in denominations of a
quarter-pound, third-of-a-pound, half-pound and 12 ounces, which is an
attribute of which I am rather fond.
The
Wabash, the 12 ounces of pulled pork that I ordered, came on a hoagie which had
been heated or maybe lightly toasted. I know from seeing inside the kitchen it
came from a bag, which is not a problem considering most of my favorite joints
just give you a few slices of bread.
The
hoagie was soft, fluffy and warm and coated with some kind of film. I wondered
aloud if it could have been buttered, and Williams noted that it was likely
just juice from the meat they were handling. Cue the Homer Simpson gluttony
groan.
The meat spread,
spilled all over the plate creating a mad mass, a manly mess. The bottom piece of the hoagie had been soaked with juice, but not enough to tear it apart thus the integrity of sandwich was maintained.
The
Wabash immediately became one of my favorite sandwiches. The pork was a bit rough and tight
yet juicy and almost damp. I loved the dichotomy of meat which had been cooked
into slight toughness maintaining so much gravy. And, in every bite I tasted a
hint of hickory and more than a splash of smooth smoke.
You
may be surprised that I’ve waited so long to talk about the sauce. Well, that’s
because the meat was that damn good. The sandwich did not initially come with
any sauce on it as the meat stood on its own four amputated legs.
However,
the sauce sat conveniently on the table in a squeeze bottle. I plopped some on
my plate and slathered more on my sandwich. Wabash’s sauce was an original,
something I have yet to taste in my culinary travels. The clearly molasses base
birthed a rich, sweet sauce, that had about the consistency of thick syrup.
While
this sandwich may have had one of the lesser sauce to meat ratios that I’ve
ever eaten on purpose, I loved the sauce, I adore it. The sauce and the
sandwich truly worked as a team, complementing each other’s strengths, blending
into each other’s tastes. To make sure I got enough of the sauce, I dipped my
fries in it, which brings me to my next point.
The
standard wedge fries from a frozen package were disappointing. They weren’t bad
by any means but they could have been crispy. They seemed like maybe they had been
dressed and waiting for the rest of the party, then got tired.
While
I don’t blame a restaurant for the occasional preparation lapse, I encourage
Wabash’s owners to cut their own potatoes. This delightful meat deserves a little more respect in the form of a properly prepared potato sidekick. But, they have been successful
enough to open up another store in Chillicothe so I guess they don’t need my
advice.
I
tasted some of the baked beans which were standard, simple and tangy. With only plain navy beans and no meat, this
side seemed to be kind of a throwaway compared to other aspects of the
restaurant.
The service was excellent. My water glass was almost never
empty and when the woman working in the office, who I presume to be an owner,
saw that the lunch crowd was picking up she refilled our drinks and asked if we
needed anything else.
Go to Wabash BBQ. Go out of your way or find a way to make
it on your way, but go to Wabash BBQ.
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