Unearth The Voyage
Tucked into downtown Des Moines, Bubba delivers Southern comfort that feels both polished and down home. You walk in for the biscuits and bourbon, then realize the hospitality is what keeps people quiet about it, like a favorite secret. The menu leans classic, but the execution is precise, with just enough Iowa charm to make it feel local. If you have been craving crispy chicken, silky grits, and a great whiskey list, this is your next stop.
Step into Bubba and the first thing you notice is how the room glows with brass light and polished wood. Velvet seating and vintage portraits lean Southern, while the layout invites lingering. It feels like home without the mess, a place where conversation takes the lead.
The host stand welcomes you with a smile that reads genuine, not scripted. Sit near the bar and you get a show of amber bottles, neatly lined, promising something bold and soothing. The patio draws you outside when weather cooperates, and downtown hums softly in the background.
Music rides low, letting voices be heard, and the pacing is thoughtful rather than rushed. It suits date nights, solo bites, and groups catching up. You know quickly that comfort here is intentional, not accidental.
Bubba’s biscuits arrive golden edged, steam curling out as you pull one apart. The crumb is tender, a touch tangy from buttermilk, and the crust shatters softly. Honey butter melts into every crevice, giving sweet contrast to the savory foundation.
There is a temptation to make a meal of them before anything else lands. Spread, taste, repeat, then promise yourself you will save room. They pair well with bourbon or sweet tea, each sip resetting the palate.
If you grew up on biscuits, this feels like a respectful nod without pretense. If not, it is a friendly introduction to why Southerners talk about them so much. Order two rounds if you are with friends, because the basket empties faster than you think.
The fried chicken at Bubba is a signature, arriving with a crackling coat that sings when your fork hits it. Inside is juicy, well seasoned, and not oily. A hint of cayenne shows up late, nudging rather than shouting.
Mashed potatoes arrive next to it, buttery and smooth, with gravy that tastes like time and attention. Collard greens bring a mellow, smoky depth that balances the richness. Add a lemon squeeze and everything brightens just enough.
This plate reflects craft more than flash. You can taste consistency, like a practiced rhythm in a favorite song. If one dish defines comfort here, this is the one you will remember long after the check drops.
Shrimp and grits at Bubba leans indulgent yet balanced. The grits are stone ground smooth, buttery but not heavy, the kind you want to drag your spoon through slowly. Shrimp arrive plump, with a snappy sear and gentle heat.
Andouille adds smoke and spice that weave into a glossy sauce. Scallions brighten the edges, and the whole bowl eats like a conversation between coast and countryside. You taste depth without muddiness, richness without sluggishness.
If you are wary of grits, this dish might convert you with one bite. It feels familiar even if you never had a Southern grandmother. Pair it with a rye forward cocktail for a little contrast and an easy finish.
Deviled eggs are simple, so technique matters. Bubba pipes a silky yolk filling that is bright with mustard and a whisper of acidity. Paprika dusting brings color and warmth without overpowering the creamy center.
Each bite is clean, neatly seasoned, and mercifully cold. There is a snap from the white and a soft landing from the filling. The garnish adds texture, sometimes chive, sometimes a pickled note that wakes things up.
They disappear quickly around a table, ideal for sharing before heavy plates arrive. If you judge a Southern spot by its deviled eggs, this passes with ease. Order them alongside a light beer or iced tea and you are set.
Sides at Bubba feel like a greatest hits album. Collard greens come soft and smoky, not mushy, with a comfortable pot liquor that begs for cornbread. Mac and cheese is creamy with a gentle cheddar pull and a browned top.
Cornbread walks the line between sweet and savory, holding together without crumbling into dust. House pickles cut through the richness and keep your appetite lively. Each side sits confidently next to the mains rather than hiding behind them.
Mix and match to build your own rhythm. Greens with chicken, mac with shrimp, cornbread with everything. This is where the meal feels personal, and you find your favorite bite halfway through.
Bubba’s bar is a love letter to whiskey. Bottles glow amber under backlighting, ranging from approachable to rare. The team offers bourbon flights that make exploration easy and affordable.
Tasting notes arrive on small cards, guiding you through vanilla, spice, oak, and fruit. You can linger over a pour while your food settles, or begin the night with a flight to spark conversation. Ask questions and you will get friendly guidance, never snobbery.
If whiskey is not your thing, the cocktail list still leans balanced and thoughtful. But if it is, this is a genuine playground with grown up restraint. Even a single pour can feel like a mini trip to Kentucky without leaving Des Moines.
There is more to Bubba’s bar than straight whiskey. Cocktails lean Southern inspired, but not stuck in a time capsule. A mint julep arrives frosty and fragrant, while a peach bourbon smash walks the tightrope between sweet and fresh.
For lighter moods, a citrusy gin option brightens the table and resets your palate. The balance is thoughtful, keeping sugar in check and letting herbs or bitters do the talking. Crushed ice shows up where it matters, adding texture and pace.
Ask for recommendations based on your plate and you will likely get a pairing that sings. The bar team listens and adjusts. You end up sipping something that feels custom, not just pulled from a list.
Weekend brunch at Bubba feels celebratory without being chaotic. Chicken and waffles bring sweet and savory together, while biscuits and gravy stay true to comfort. Mimosas sparkle, and coffee arrives hot and reliable.
The room brightens with late morning light, and conversations stretch lazily. Service keeps a steady pace, so you never feel rushed to vacate a table. Portions are generous, aimed at easing you into the weekend rather than jolting you.
If you are meeting friends, reserve early and plan to linger. The menu skews familiar but has enough tweaks to keep curiosity alive. It is the kind of brunch where a second round feels natural, not indulgent.
Hospitality anchors the experience at Bubba. Staff greet you like a neighbor and keep an eye on your table without hovering. Water refills appear before you think to ask, and timing between courses feels considered.
Recommendations are honest, not upsells. Ask about spice levels or portion sizes and you get straight answers. If a dish is best shared, they will tell you, saving room for dessert or a nightcap.
It is the kind of service that makes you relax into your chair and notice the music. Your meal becomes less about transactions and more about rhythm. You leave feeling looked after, which is why people return.
On good weather days, the patio at Bubba is a sweet spot. String lights add a soft glow while planters frame the space from the downtown edges. You get a little city energy without the noise stealing your seat.
Order a whiskey flight or a cold beer and watch the evening settle in. Food travels well outside, staying hot and crisp. The staff checks in at a comfortable pace, even when the dining room is buzzing.
It is ideal for date nights or a small group catching up after work. The patio extends the room’s charm into the open air. You feel unhurried, which might be the best flavor of all.
Bubba sits at 200 10th St Suite 606, an easy downtown find with plenty to do nearby. Hours run late enough for a weeknight dinner or a lingering Friday. You can check the website for specials and seasonal updates.
Parking options vary, but street spots and nearby ramps usually do the trick. Call ahead if you have a large group, and the team will help with timing. The phone number is listed clearly, and reservations streamline busy nights.
It is a central spot that works for pre show meals or after work bites. You can walk to other downtown stops afterward, though dessert here is tempting. Logistics feel simple, which lets the food take center stage.
Bubba sits comfortably in the mid range. Portions are generous, and the quality makes the price feel fair. You can dine modestly with a couple of plates, or splurge on flights and dessert.
Happy to report there is no sticker shock once the check arrives. The kitchen delivers consistency, which is what value really means here. Specials occasionally offer added incentive to try something new without stretching.
Bring friends to share plates and you will cover more of the menu for the same spend. If you measure value by how satisfied you feel walking out, this will rank high. Nothing feels cut rate, and nothing feels inflated.
Dessert at Bubba pays proper homage to the South. Pecan pie slices clean, with just enough goo and a confident crust. Peach cobbler arrives napping under a biscuit top that soaks up syrup without sogging out.
Whipped cream keeps things light, and a coffee alongside draws the sweetness into focus. Share if you must, but these plates are balanced enough to enjoy solo. You can taste restraint in the sugar, which keeps flavors clear.
Ending here feels like closing a story on the right chapter. A small bite can carry a lot of memory. Save room, or you will find yourself planning a return just for dessert.
Bubba has the energy of a spot people protect. Regulars slide into favorite seats, and staff remember names or orders. The food delivers without drama, which keeps the buzz at a pleasant murmur.
There is a sense that shouting about it might crowd the room. So locals recommend it softly, sharing only with people who will appreciate the vibe. That does not mean it is exclusive, just intentionally comfortable.
If you know, you know, and now you do. Come with an appetite and a little curiosity. You will see why it stays on repeat for so many in Des Moines.
