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Spike's BBQ
Dinners only, Wed-Sun
Way up 96N, past the hospital
Price: Platters $6-$9
Posted on: 03/31/00
Ithaca is well reputed for its vegetarian accomodations, from the famous eatery to deeply stocked grocers and the Farmer's market. Spike's is not one of them. No, Spike's is a place where animals have not only been harmed but, once slaughtered, slung over hot coals, smoked slowly and deliciously.
Way back when, Spike opened his (their?) BBQ on an ugly section of Elmira Rd., behind the Big Liquor Store shopping center, in an incredibly tiny little A-frame. It was so tiny we weren't sure if it was a public eatery or an outhouse, and never did manage to make it over there. Then, one day this year, the A-frame was empty, and Spike's big black smoker ("aporkalypse") gone. We figured his tiny business went, well, up in smoke. Ithaca, and the north in general, is not a hot incubator for slow barbecue -- and don't be fooled by Billy Bob Jack's, where they can't tell a smoker from a microwave.
How wrong we were, fortunately. First, Spike emerged at this year's downtown chili cookoff. Although woefully understocked with chili (depleted an hour into the event!?), he actually snagged first prize. And he had a new address, too, way up Route 96, past the hospital and even past the Sleeping Bear futon store ("location location location"!).
Turns out that, even without our help, Spike's business at the A-frame exceeded his 5 square foot capacity. He made quite the leap, moving into what was "Sa's", a small event/catering hall that we passed and mocked whenever trundling up to the Thruway. So, after finally russling up some meat friendly compatriots we set out for Spike's.
The former Sa's is now mostly an open seating area, not quite cafeteria style, with an order counter and large homemade menus pasted to the wall. Spike's menu is not exhaustive -- ribs, chicken, pulled pork -- in various combinations, such as sandwiches or, what do you know, combination platters. We ordered several permutations among us, sampling some ribs, some chicken quarters, some pulled pork, and some ribbon style beef of some sort.
A condiment counter offers three different sauces, in addition to the "house sauce" provided on each table. We scientifically tried each. One intrepid eater dove unflinchingly into the hottest sauce, and nearly suffered permanent damage as a result. Physically disabled for some time, our taster eventually chose the house sauce the best, with which we generally agree, with the inclusion of the middle-hot sauce.
Platters come with cornbread and two sides, of which we variously tried baked beans, fries, cole slaw, potato salad, and creole rice. The cornbread was a hit, and while we're no confederates, it seemed moist and corn-y in the way that it should. Among the sides, the fries were most notable, waffle cut, lightly salted, and without a trace of grease. The beans were rated well but needed to be warmer, while the remaining sides batted average.
The stars at Spike's of course are the cows, and the pigs, and the chickens. Starting at the top, the ribs are simply outstanding. The typical northern rib is not much to rave about, unless you smoke your own, but Spike knows what many on this side of the Mason Dixon line don't. Bar none, the ribs stuck with us for days, and in fact we reminisced days later over their lasting satisfaction. Behind the ribs, the chicken quarters come highly recommended, both perfectly smoked and sharing some of the infamous "Cornell chicken" or Baker chicken quality found at the many hundreds of local firehouse cookouts.
A Spike's combo platter is a lot of food, and, it goes without saying, a lot of cholesterol and friends. That's another way of saying very satisfying, in a quality way. For the daintier of us, Spike's also carries over into a full second meal. For all of us, Spike's was food to remember, and return to, once we've rebuilt our health karma to seasonal levels.
p.s. If you're still not stuffed, consider the chili. Traditional style, hits all the right notes.
