The Oxford Blue Smokehouse is the newest meat joint in the Cowley area. The owners – who also run a smokehouse in Witney – have recently expanded into Oxford, taking the place of the old Oxford Blue pub (a canonical institution that had sadly fallen into disrepair.)
The outside is bright and pleasing, lighting up Marston St like a blue and white beacon.
We walk in and are surrounded by pig. Pigs on the wall. Pigs both in and on the menu. The party line is clear: we do meat here. (Even the wine list is divided into little stencils of animals; white in a chicken, red in a cow, etc).
The effusion of the meat decór is notable but not necessarily overboard. In fact, it nicely complements the historical heritage of a southern American cuisine. Especially concerning pigs. For the eighteenth and nineteenth century American family, salted pig was a necessity, providing perhaps the only meat over long cold winters. Farmers developed their own secret recipes for salting and curing, compiled of particular variants of honey, molasses, sugar, charcoal, mustard, etc. This proliferation of pig was such that it became a joke in its own time. One 'Dr. John S. Wilson', for example, wonderfully remarked that; "The United States may more properly be called the Great Hog Eating Confederacy or The Republic of Porkdom"
[1]
Fantastic renaming of the U.S. aside, the layout of the Oxford Blue Smokehouse does support its claims to American authenticity. The interior is set out like a traditional diner; all the lager and beer is American brands, there are bison horns and vintage Sailor Jerry's ads placed artfully next to the pig pictures.
For a mid-week evening, the restaurant is reasonably full. There are a few meanderers at the bar, with probably half the tables filled. We sit by the door (I've found the periphery the best place to watch the secret inners of the working world). The staff are friendly and accommodating - one of the party has a nut allergy, and they're more than happy to cater for this, double checking each dish.
Tables are of a decent size (a note important but often overlooked), and well-spaced. We note in trepidation the excessive amount of napkins on the table. The menu itself is satisfactorily dispersed. The majority of white space is given to the mains, and as name may suggest, the Smokehouse uses a custom made wood smoker for the meat.
For those vegetarian smokehouse goers, there is both vegetarian chilli and burger on offer, as well as a good selection of starters (fries, potato skins, mac and cheese, nachos). In terms of health/weight watching, there is regrettably no vegetarian salad. Though, to be fair, the only salad on the menu contains avocado, bacon and chicken (with ranch dressing). It seems pretty self-explanatory: the Smokehouse is not a place to head on a diet.
To start, we order BBQ chicken wings with sour cream, and corn on the cob with chilli butter. For mains, the 'combo' of 1/4 chicken, Jacob's Ladder and Pulled Pork, and the Homemade Veggie Chilli, with beetroot, mushroom and aubergine and homemade nachos and tomato rice. To drink, a bottle of white wine - even though it's placed on the fish - because sometimes you just have to rebel against zoological taxonomy.
The presentation of the food is in keeping with the classic diner trope; small bite-size pieces of corn, flecked with chilli, set in a traditional white and blue enamel bowl. The chicken wings arrive dripping in sauce. The number of napkins begins to look reasonable.
The reality does not disappoint; the wings are hot and spicy, and an absolute nightmare to eat attractively (precisely how it should be). The corn is a slight disappointment. The only vegetable in sight, they're smothered in butter and only vaguely spicy
. With the general acceptance of an artery-loading comradery on entry, I regret not plumping for the cream cheese stuffed jalapeños. The biggest problem, however, is that I am already starting to feel full.
Our mains arrive.
The 'combo' is a behemoth; served again in the classic enamel baking dish. The quarter chicken is, as my friend frankly puts it, "a lot of chicken". Coupled with the Jacob's Ladder, and pulled pork, it is the type of meal that requires a non-starter, non-pudding temperament. Sadly (or maybe gladly) we plan on having both, so we get to test the restaurant's doggie bag etiquette (they are more than happy to help).
In keeping with the heritage of the Southern pig, the pulled pork is the best thing on the plate (perhaps the work of the custom woodsmoker). The quarter/half/whole chicken is fine, but nothing particularly special. Jacob's Ladder, though deliciously succulent looking, does not quite live up to the look. Both the sides - coleslaw and sweet potato fries - are great.
The vegetarian chilli is steaming hot. I suspect that the kitchen have fallen foul of the credo that one can simply replace meat with spice, but that is still far better than the often-found tasteless counterpart (replacing meat with nothing whatsoever). The home-made nachos are huge and very exciting. Together with the chilli and tomato rice, it makes for a solid blend. I think I probably prefer the vegetarian chilli to the combo - which for a Smokehouse is not necessarily a good thing - but both meals are good. And as my frank friend (FF) remarks on the combo; 'it's meat, right'. And it is meat. Pretty good meat too. I would recommend this meat to my meat-eating friends. I
might not recommend the platter, simply because for £15.95, there are probably cheaper and better options on the considerable menu. For example, one could get the pulled pork for £9.95, and then a dessert, all for the price of one chicken.
And talking of dessert, we go all out. Oreo cheesecake (though really more of a highly enjoyable oreo and biscuit infused mousse), and churros with peanut butter dipping sauce. By this time we're so full that thoughts of portion size are inconsequential. The plan is to just keep eating until they stop providing.
We waddle out, content. I'm a bit confused about the target market they're pushing for. It's on the verge of a hipster hangout, but not quite. On the verge of all-out gluttony, but with cool metal chairs. There's the sense that it doesn't quite know what it wants to achieve. But these issues are workable, and not damning. I think that Dr. John S. Wilson would probably approve.
What we ate:
1 x Chilli Corn £5.00
1 x BBQ Chicken Wings £6.50
1 x 1/4 Chicken Combo £15.95
Sweet Pot Fries £1.50
1 x Veggie Chilli £9.00
1 x Oreo Cheesecake £5.00
1 x Churros £5.00
1 x Alto Bajo Bottle £17.50
[1] Quotation taken from Rick McDaniel's extensive work into American Cuisine; "An Irresistible History of Southern Food: Four Centuries of Black-eyed Peas". Chapter 6, The Incredible, Edible Pig.