Brickyard is maddeningly inconsistent. The pulled-pork sandwich is quite good, holding onto a hint of smoke and doused with a light, tangy sauce, but the beef brisket is sometimes so dry that, when cut into, it flakes apart like salmon. Brickyard’s version of “spicy” would be safe to feed to an infant.

Although mac and cheese and cornbread are decent, some of the other sides are laughable: baked beans swimming in a ketchupy sauce, or a “salad” of peas, cubed cheddar, and raw red onion swimming in mayonnaise. (While the latter may be traceable to some down-home tradition or other, part of being a good chef is knowing which traditions are worth inflicting on gullible urbanites.)

Brickyard is a pretty decent watering hole, though. There’s a good beer selection—the prerequisite domestics plus lots of microbrews—and a large selection of hard liquor, from Basil Hayden to Wild Turkey. The inside is cramped, but the outdoor seating area is a fun place to catch a few rays of sun. And the staff is friendly enough to make us wish we could give the place higher food marks.