From Ports to Pitmaster
Lockhart, St. Louis, Memphis…Boston. At Wade BBQ, Pitmaster David Wade makes a case for barbecue in the Northeast.
photos: alexander zeren
In Central Texas, brisket rules the barbecue scene, distinctly donned in black pepper bark. In St. Louis, sauces are sweeter and coat a wide range of proteins, while dry rubs and pulled pork sandwiches fuel Memphis. But in the Northeast, the smoke fades, and pitmasters wrangling grills are harder to come by. That is, unless you’re in Somerville, where burning oak wafts from an alley off of Union Square, because that’s where Chef David Wade is serving “Boston Barbecue” at Wade BBQ.
Wade was barely tall enough to see over a grill when he started developing his barbecue philosophy. Throughout his childhood in Dorchester, Wade’s father became known for hosting cookouts for the neighborhood, with Wade by his side tasting and assisting. “Everyone loved my father’s barbecue sauce, and usually people are very close to the chest about that,” says Wade. “I was too young to know better, so I asked for his recipe. He said, ‘you have to earn it. We’ll give you the ingredients, but you have to make your own sauce.’” “Making your own sauce” was a mantra that would follow Wade as he grew and gained confidence in and out of the kitchen. “I knew I got it when I gave my sauce to my dad, he took a taste, and then shot the whole thing. Now I realize he was teaching me about my palate.”
Though Wade’s career started with a stint in the Navy as a damage controlman, he still took every chance he got to expand his culinary repertoire, sampling dishes everywhere his ships docked, from the Mediterranean to the Persian Gulf. In 2004, after five years spent mostly at sea, he returned to Boston and worked his way through restaurant kitchens, from delis to diners to pizzerias, until he felt ready to kick his own concept into gear. “When I finally made the decision to do barbecue, I made the most logical decision, which was to quit the food business and get into welding. I knew I couldn't cook for another restaurant while building my own. It allowed me to get off at a reasonable time and get to the meat markets, get everything prepped, and have time to plan pop-ups and flesh out the menu.”
Starting in 2019, business grew rapidly through bi-weekly pop-ups, but the demand overwhelmed Wade’s capacity. While looking for a commissary kitchen, he found a garage space in Union Square’s Sanborn Court, which appealed to him for its eclectic resident businesses, like the cocktail haven Backbar and live music venue The Jungle. The cost was comparable to renting commissary space, so Wade took the leap, and opened his brick-and-mortar in October of 2023. “There’s a synergy here,” he says. “Since opening, it has just exploded.”
Tuesday through Saturday, Wade cranks out a slew of succulent smoked items, from brisket and St. Louis-style pork ribs, to turkey necks for collard greens, and portobello mushrooms. Wade pulls techniques from all styles of barbecue, while infusing dishes with personal flair. The St. Louis pork ribs are technically traditional, but Wade’s signature barbecue sauce coats them with “all the flavors of Boston—tangy, smoky, boldness.” When served alongside proteins like pulled pork, Wade’s barbecue sauce comes warm. “My father and I firmly believe good barbecue sauce is warm.” His lemon pepper wet chicken wings are “inspired by Atlanta,” smoked, marinated, battered, and fried, then coated in a sauce made with lemon juice, lemon pepper seasoning, hot sauce, and “a little Miles Davis.” The crisp exterior and bright, punchy, and acidic flavors are classic to Atlanta, while the touch of smoke and hot sauce and the added finish of lime juice and butter is all Wade. “No one can put their finger on where it's from because it's uniquely this. I take pride in being able to stand out.” His collard greens are tangy and spicy (fashioned after Wade’s Aunt Donna’s), and the burnt ends, which opt for pork over beef, are cut thick and served with a wedge of lime to balance out the sticky, juicy, and crunchy layers. Side dishes cover classics like mac ‘n cheese and cornbread, along with fried pickles and okra with spicy aïoli, and potato salad that’s heavy on crunchy celery and “John Coltrane. A lot of John Coltrane. You will not find raisins in potato salad here.”
As guests trek up the alleyway to Wade BBQ, the first greeting isn’t from Wade, but from Bonnie Jean. “Bonnie Jean is the smoker, named after the love of my life who passed away from breast cancer during COVID. I got to design it. She’s a beauty. The smoker is obviously an intimate piece of this process, but the interesting thing is it helped me grieve and feel closer to her, and also to other folks who influence my barbecue. And now the neighbors know her name. It’s part of sharing the love.”
Wade hopes to bottle and distribute his barbecue sauce to continue sharing his food with people on a broader scale. “I want to see my sauce next to Sweet Baby Ray’s.” The goal is for Wade BBQ to become synonymous with Boston, while invigorating passion for barbecue, near and far. “I just want to be recognized as great barbecue. Even in the Caribbean and South America where barbecue is different. I want to be on that same level. I want you to think—Celtics, Patriots, and Wade BBQ.”
