Good reads

ON THE FIRE
© Lydia Walshin (South End News, April 1996)

Picture this — it's a typical Boston blizzard, and the snow is swirling outside, but inside the warmth and aromas from the kitchen fill the air. Ten of the nicest men you'd ever want to meet take their places around a long table, just to have dinner with you.

Never mind that the candle on the table looks frighteningly like Smokey the Bear, and at any minute your dinner companions might go sliding down a pole and off into the night on a big red truck. No fantasy is perfect, after all.

When Captain Paul Reynolds asked me to dinner at the Engine 3 firehouse a few weeks ago, he said, "Jack Kelly's cooking, and he's not just the best cook at this station, he's the best in the South End." How could I resist? So off I trudged through the snow, for what would be one of the most fun — and funniest — evenings I've ever spent in the Community Kitchen.

Engine 3 is an old-fashioned firehouse on Harrison Avenue behind Cathedral, with a second-floor kitchen, a couple of well-worn couches, and a pole through a hole in the middle of the room. The dining table was empty, except for eight pounds of potatoes and a peeler — the price I had to pay for my supper.

Kelly started "on the fire" in 1969, after a few years working at a bank, then at the Herald as a press operator. He's spent all of his 28 years in the South End, the last eight at Engine 3 where he drives a special unit that responds to second alarms city-wide. Kelly is first-generation American, born and raised in Dorchester, and a father of six, the oldest of whom is also a Boston firefighter.

He does most of the cooking at home, and prefers basic "meat and potatoes" meals. A self-taught cook, Kelly also does most of the cooking when he's on duty at the firehouse; the men chip in for food each week, but they're happy to leave the cooking to someone else.

The first thing I asked Kelly was to tell me how to finish his recipes, in case the men got called to a fire and left me at the stove, but our luck held, and no calls came in during the three hours I was there. The food was hearty, the dinner conversation far-reaching (Is John Salvi insane? Will UMass make the Final Four?) and hilarious, and even the two resident cats were having a good time.

We ate dinner early, and it was time for me to leave. Not yet dark outside, the neighborhood was quiet in the snow. Two firefighters who'd come to join us for dinner offered me a ride in one of those big red trucks. When I got home, I started to shovel the snow off my front steps, and five minutes later I saw Engine 3 racing down Tremont toward Berkeley Street on their first call of the evening.

And, down the street...

Not to be outdone by the folks at Engine 3, Captain Jim Sullivan invited me to sample Dick Gottwald's special venison recipe at Engine 22 on Tremont Street. We made a date for lunch, but as luck and a five-alarm fire in Cambridge would have it, I never got to taste Gottwald's cooking. The last of the season's venison went to waste as Engine 22 was out on call most of the day.

Firefighters work a strange schedule, on for one day and one night, then off for a few days, so it was a couple of weeks later before I caught up with Engine 22 again. James Odom, who's been "on the fire" for 18 years (all in the South End), offered to teach me how to make his wonderful barbeque ribs, and I was in for a treat.

Engine 22's firehouse looks like a huge suburban garage inside and out. It's all on one floor (no pole to slide down), with a large kitchen at the back. When I arrived at the firehouse, the smoking had started. In fact, the whole building filled up with smoke; I can't believe we didn't set off the smoke detector! But what an aroma, as the ribs cooked for several hours with constant tending, basting and turning. "You've got to have patience," Odom explained. "That's the secret."

Odom was born in Georgia, and moved to Dorchester when he was 10. The only child of a second marriage, he spent lots of time in the kitchen, watching his mother, an excellent cook, and learning the art of barbeque from his father. Married when he was 19 years old, Odom then taught his wife to cook, so she makes everything just the way he likes it.

The father of three, Odom has two granddaughters, and in his free time he loves to go freshwater fishing. He also cooks and sells his ribs at major events like the kite and West Indian festivals in Franklin Park. Come mid-May, Odom and his brother-in-law also will be selling ribs (along with rotisserie chicken, collard greens, macaroni and cheese and potato salad) three days a week at a stand on Ellington Street in Dorchester.

Jimmy Boyle made lieutenant the day I was there, and it was his last shift at Engine 22, so a celebration was in order. Captain Sullivan led the cake-making effort: a saltine cracker, topped with a mound of peanut butter, decorated with some red cake icing, and toothpicks to light in place of candles. Wherever Boyle's next posting takes him, I hope they give him a real cake, but I know he won't eat better barbeque than Jimmy Odom's ribs. ^ top