Spit-roasted lemon-sage chicken at Firebrand Saints

^{Photo: JOEL VEAK}

Cambridge's Area IV and its surrounding streets got so hot in the fine-dining arena so fast that STUFF had trouble keeping up. Earlier this year, we reviewed veteran the Blue Room and its younger neighbor Think Tank, then brand-new spots like Bondir, Area Four, Catalyst, and Abigail's. It has been astonishing to see the neighborhood go from a near ghost town after 7 p.m. to a booming drinks-and-dinner destination in barely a year. And it's hardly slowing down: Kika Tapas and Fuji are slated to open at Kendall any day now. And there are still other recent arrivals, like Firebrand Saints (1 Broadway, Cambridge, 617.401.3399), from the folks behind Central Square's long-running hit Central Kitchen, with a little help from neighbor MIT.

 

The space is a wildly original intersection of the tech-geeky and the art-freaky. It's narrow, tall, and angular, with a mix of durable industrial furnishings, green materials like reclaimed-wood bar tops, soaring windows, Pop Art-inspired wall collages, and a mesmerizing video installation by local art and technology studio Sosolimited. The Space Age clubhouse atmosphere is lubricated with a beer selection pitched at both students and snobs: eight on tap (pints $3.50-$7, pitchers $14-$26), seven in cans ($4-$6), and 10 in bottles ($4-$6, large-format $9-$15). Wine lovers can choose from a short, smartly curated list by the glass ($7-$11) and bottle ($27-$70) or opt for the house sangria ($7/glass, $25/pitcher). The cocktail list has a craft accent, with originals like the Original ($7), an attractive daiquiri variant featuring Old Monk (an Indian spiced dark rum), fresh lime juice, sugar, and bitters.

The menu is as unique as the space, a daft assemblage of rotisserie meat platters ($12-$17), variations on burgers ($9-$12), and an odd grab-bag of hot and cold plates that ranges from deviled eggs ($4) to cold poached lobster ($18). A good start is the mezze bar ($12), a generous plate of high-quality, puffy grilled pita slices surrounding three vegetable pâtés (from a choice of five), like smooth, smoky eggplant baba, gorgeous curried carrots, and rich, thick tzatziki, all piquantly garnished with minced olives and pickled pearl onions. We'll return to any place whose wide-open kitchen can do such a terrific spit-roasted lemon-sage chicken ($17): half of a big bird redolent of fresh herbs, boasting crisped skin and the rotisserie miracle of equally moist breast and leg meat, flanking a chunky mash of fingerling potatoes studded with black olives and capers. In the end, Firebrand Saints looks a bit like a bafflingly complex mathematical equation: to the layman, it doesn't make a whole lot of sense - you just have to trust us nerds that it works.