Utah chain opens with ‘best BBQ to ever hit you in the lips’? Lay off the sauce, Boise
Restaurant marketing involves heaping helpings of hyperbole. Still, it’s hard not to raise an eyebrow at the website boast from our city’s latest chain invader, R&R BBQ: “... The best barbecue to ever hit you in the lips.”
Like, lay off the sauce, right?
Certainly an option — literally. More on that in a sec.
So what should customers downtown truly expect when R&R opens Friday?
Pretty freakin’ impressive ’cue. At least based on samples dished up at a private event earlier this week.
A fast-growing Utah outfit, R&R does not franchise. The location in downtown Boise — R&R’s 12th — is on the second floor of the Main + Marketplace building. Housed in the longtime Shige Japanese Steakhouse spot at 150 N. 8th St., it’s a modern, open look for the space. It’s also right next to another out-of-state newcomer: Southern-fried Tupelo Honey, which replaced the locally owned Piper Pub & Grill.
In a nod to the community, R&R will donate 50 percent of all proceeds from its grand opening Friday and Saturday to Boise Bicycle Project, a nonprofit. R&R’s hours are 10:30 a.m. to 10 p.m. Fridays and Saturdays, 10:30 a.m. to 9 p.m. Sundays through Thursdays. R&R also plans to serve Idaho beers exclusively and two Boise ciders. (And, OK, Coors Light.)
R&R planted its first stake in the Gem State last November at The Village at Meridian. Yelp reactions to that fast-casual restaurant mostly have leaned positive. A few reviews complain about dry meat. But that certainly wasn’t the case at the Boise sneak peek.
Rocky Mountain BBQ
This is not Texas barbecue. Or Kansas City or Carolina. R&R calls itself Rocky Mountain-style. Apparently, that means a little bit of everything.
R&R’s barbecue is not timid. The meats have a solid kick. Not necessarily spicy — although the Andouille sausage might getcha — but boldly seasoned. Barbecue at both Idaho restaurants is smoked with applewood, theoretically adding a distant sweetness. (Utah locations use white oak.)
Tables were set with four sauces: Original, Carolina, Sweet and Spicy. Dipping a morsel of delicious, moist chicken thigh into Original made the smoky bird even better, adding balance. And pulled pork always appreciates a little sauce.
But, for the most part, you might want to go easy on the sauces. Or even eschew them before you start a-squirtin’. Why defile mouthwatering, near-perfect St. Louis-style ribs with an unnecessary slather? Or even Certified Angus Beef brisket, especially if you’re a purist?
Sides tasted fine — fresh, like all of R&R’s food. Cole slaw is cole slaw. Then again, this is Idaho. Thankfully, R&R’s garlic mashed potatoes and brown gravy are no joke. Recommended. And if you want dessert, you won’t go wrong with the rich, glides-down-so-fast banana pudding.
Meats and more
R&R sells meat plate combos for $14.59 (one protein) to $16.79 (three proteins), which come on a tray with your choice of a side and a roll or hush puppies. Gazing at the wall menu behind the ordering counter, those combos would seem to be the obvious go-to. That goes for both a sit-down or a takeout situation. (R&R also has in-house delivery drivers. And, yes, R&R caters.)
But there’s also an array of salads, sandwiches and other detours on the menu, ranging from the smoked Caveman burger ($12.99 with a side) to BBQ nachos ($10.49, add $2 for brisket) and sweet pulled pork tacos ($8.99, add $2 for brisket.) You can even get smoked, deep-fried wings at various heat levels ($9.99 for six wings, $16.99 for a dozen).
R&R likes to make noise about its founders, California-raised twin brothers who were barbecue competition standouts before opening their first brick-and-mortar in 2011 in Salt Lake City. The twins sold a majority of the business and announced their retirement in 2019. But growth plans for R&R already were cooking. Savory Fund, the investment force behind R&R BBQ, also powers Utah-based Mo’ Bettahs Hawaiian Style Food. That brand opened a Meridian store in 2019.
In the end, it all boils down to R&R BBQ’s product. “There’s nothin’ fast about our food,” declares a sign on the wall of the Boise restaurant. “... As we like to say, ‘slowly smoked, quickly devoured.’ ”
Licking your fingers, it’s hard to imagine a scenario where Boise doesn’t eat this place up.
This story was originally published October 8, 2021 at 4:00 AM.