Lord Hobo is a stupid name for a restaurant.
Okay, now that that is out of the way, we can talk about the food. Lord Hobo is in the old B-side lounge space outside of
We had the mussels and the fried calamari to start. The mussels were tender and plump in a delicious Thai coconut curry broth. The calamari was lightly fried, and a nice assortment of rings and tentacles (my favorite!). I think another one or two minutes in the fryer and it would have been golden brown perfect. My prime rib sandwich was a special that night and it suffered from being one thick slice of meat, instead of many thin ones. One bite and all the meat would come out of the rest of the sandwich. R’s burger was okay; the meat was cooked correctly, and it was thick and juicy, but the bun was nothing to write home about. Chucky’s chicken breast was the surprise of the night; it was moist and flavorful.
I’m not a beer drinker, but the beer list was well received by Bri and Nicole. Certainly, it’s impressive in size and scope. Check it out for yourself on the website.
The service was fine and the booth was comfortable. My biggest complaint was the noise level. Lord Hobo is primarily a bar, and the Sox game was on, so it was hard to carry on a conversation without shouting. R said to me, “It’s just another sign I’m getting old. That restaurant was just too loud. If it was just the two of us, I would have left.”