Following last week's Traveling Lush column, I received a request from a reader, "No more $12 martinis! Go to a dive bar next time!" I didn't quite work up the nerve to walk into Sligo's (I have the feeling I'd be more out of place there than a tequila worm in a glass of milk) but I did make it across the street to Underbones with two of my friends, Lily and Shaharris.
Despite my preference for establishments that serve over-priced drinks so they can pay for ridiculous mood lighting, it was not my first venture into Underbones. Truth be told, however, it had been a while since I last patronized this basement bar located beneath the Redbones restaurant.
At the top of the stairs, one of the nicest bouncers I've ever come across waved us through after checking IDs. Downstairs, 80% of the tables were occupied by Tufts students. This can be a pro or a con, depending on whether you like running into people you see everyday on campus. I normally hate getting sucked into conversations that pull my attention away from the friends with whom I originally headed out. On the other hand, the opportunity to meet friends' friends is always nice.
Between saying "Hello" and asking the obligatory "Where the hell have you been, man?" to acquaintances, we slowly made our way to one of the last few open tables against the wall. The place was pretty full, considering the disgustingly slushy streets and the heavy snow falling outside.
Underbones is first and foremost a beer place, but as it turned out, none of us really enjoy beer. Fellow non-beer drinkers, never fear: Underbones also has an extensive cocktail menu. Also, don't be afraid to ask for suggestions. When our server Beatty came to take our orders, we asked for an order of his first and second favorite drinks. I ordered a rum and Diet Coke for myself (don't laugh).
I didn't expect Beatty to ask what rum I'd like to have in my drink; I don't think I've been asked that even at more posh places. Seeing his grimace upon my tentative offer of Bacardi, I asked him for his advice. He suggested [name of rum drowned out by buzz of surrounding conversations].
None of Beatty's suggestions disappointed. Even his guarantee of non-soggy fries turned up good. The margarita arrived in a cup without a salted rim, however. Even more bizarrely, Shaharris decided to make do with the salt shaker on the table and proceeded to add salt directly into his drink.
Seven drinks (between the three of us!) later, we were ready for a change of environment. The total bill came to just over $30, tips included. Imagine! Seven drinks for $30 ... that's a measly two and a half martinis at 33 Bar and Lounge! Needless to say, Lily and Shaharris found themselves heading over to Sauce Bar & Grill with a very pleased Denise in tow.
Unlike the scene at Underbones, Sauce seemed to have been completely devoid of the Tufts crowd prior to our entrance, and was appropriately half empty, thanks to the miserable Saturday night that it was. The mood of Sauce reminded me vaguely of Orleans Restaurant (see "Orleans bar is good for any occasion," March 3), but minus the comfy couches by the windows.
Perhaps because of the slow night, no one was there at the front to seat us. We found ourselves a table and several minutes passed before anyone noticed newcomers had arrived and bothered to get us drink menus.
Nevertheless, the servers were all extremely friendly and helpful. Due to the confusion when we first came in, we never really knew who our designated server was until the young woman we had been flagging down since our arrival jokingly reprimanded a colleague, "Start attending your table!" She proceeded to take our orders anyway.
We ordered a pitcher of sangria, for $26. The pitcher was slightly smaller than I had imagined it would be, but we managed to milk six glasses out of it. I would have imagined more fruit, but it was good all the same. In addition to a fully stocked bar, Sauce offers a surprisingly extensive wine list for Davis standards: 56 are offered by the bottle, 26 by the glass. We ended the night on a slightly classier note, with a glass of Chardonnay for me, some other white wine for Shaharris, and a delightful (yes, "delightful") pear version of a bellini.
Some time between our draining of the pitcher of sangria and the arrival of our wine, one of us decided that it would be a good idea to shoot some mock model/glamour shots with my camera. In my book, any place that attracts other customers who not only put up with such behavior, but actually laugh along and cheer us on, rises by several points.
Our photo shoot was finally interrupted by the raising of the lights and the sudden mass departure of clientele. Only after arriving back to campus did we realize how early Sauce closed: 1 a.m.
It ultimately took a night of absolutely dreadful weather for me to rediscover the convenience and fun of a night out in Davis Square. Even spoiled city brats like me can have a satisfying time out at Sauce on nights when a trip downtown sounds totally unappealing. Although I won't be heading back to Underbones for its music or atmosphere, its low prices and friendly faces are enough to guarantee multiple returns before graduation.
Now, if only I can work up the nerve to really check out some hole-in-the-wall bar. Suggestions are welcome; just e-mail me at my Tufts address.
