Food gets lost in bland Sauce
Everyone has that friend. You know, the one who insists that they know this person you absolutely have to meet. ''You guys are both so funny!" ''You both have the same trash day!" ''I think you both dated divorced prosecutors who moved here from Nebraska!"
When it came time for Sauce the column to meet Sauce the bar and grill, the most imaginative recommendation friends were willing to make was, ''You both have the same first name!" Which is all we have in common with this less-than-thrilling Somerville pub that has gone to great lengths to masquerade as an upscale yuppie lair.
The setting is spacious (like a disco with no dance floor and no DJ booth) with three or four distinct sectors: two bars, an island of banquettes, and a lower-level dining section, which lines the large front windows. Eating in it feels a little like sitting at the kiddie table. While all the ''grown-ups" schmooze and cruise and flirt with each other upstairs, we're stuck down here with our so-so butternut squash risotto. Would it taste better up in one of the banquettes?
The tables in this area are of the cocktail variety, which, aptly enough, require high chairs to dine. As it turns out, this is a perfect place to see people wander in off the street, marvel at how much restaurant there is, and head over to the TV monitor of their choice to catch NCAA men's basketball scores. Those already in the know just park at the bar and get cozy with their friends serving drinks. And pity the nondrinker: One otherwise garrulous waiter turned alpha male and gave a male patron a hard time for ordering a wimpy cranberry juice.
The menu is inexpensive American tapas, smallish servings of everything ranging from clam chowder and pumpkin soup to something called ''mac and cheese" that features an unexplained appearance by cauliflower. Meanwhile, the poor breaded, pan-roasted cod is prone to the occasional off night. It's oily and bland and came served, unhappily, on a mound of lifeless potatoes. The zesty Lebanese bread salad and the Margherita pizza don't disappoint. But as the food arrived, with the wait staff utterly uncertain about which plate belonged to whom, it became obvious that even a half-serious diner might reconsider coming solely for the food. Nobody else really seems to.
Sauce is never as much fun (and the food never as adventurous) as drink-first-eat-much-later party hovels Peking Tom in Downtown Crossing or Middlesex in Central Square. But the plight of the horny does exist at Sauce. That alpha male waiter could often be seen engaged in light horseplay with his female counterparts. On one of the nights we were there, three men couldn't stop staring through us to get a load of the blonde, who was already engaged with a gentleman in what is bound to be the designated lovers nook -- not far from the lamp that's been nailed to a plank of wood that declines at a 45-degree angle.
This is yet another local hangout where food is what one eats to survive a bender. In acknowledgment of this, Sauce shrewdly offers a Sunday ''hangover" brunch. Now people who've had a hard night at the bar can mope back the very next morning for a Bloody Mary and scrambled eggs. Otherwise, coming here for a great meal is like showing up at an Ashlee Simpson concert eager for a night of song.
Sauce Bar and Grill, 400 Highland Ave., Somerville. (617) 625-0200
