No reservations? No thanks. I’m not lining up for shit.

Line Up

There was a review this morning in Toronto Life for the new Parkdale “hotspot” Electric Mud which, surprisingly, rated the bourbon and barbecue joint a mere 1.5 stars. I say surprisingly because, since its inception, Electric Mud has received a series of just-short-of-rave reviews from most Toronto media outlets who pay attention to such things. For example, the Globe and Mail called the food “obscenely, shockingly good,” NOW noted simply that “Electric Mud Rocks,” and even blogTO offered some reluctant praise, admitting the fare was “pretty fucking good.” Everyone, with the exception of Toronto Life I guess, seems fairly enamoured with Electric Mud. And with a bourbon-heavy cocktail list, barbecue on the menu, a classic rock soundtrack, and Bellwoods beer on tap, Electric Mud seems to me to be just about everything I could ask for in a bar/eatery.

I should be itching to go there and see what all the fuss is about.

But I’m not.

The reason is simple: Electric Mud is yet another Toronto establishment that has seen fit to do away with what would seem to be one of the most basic elements of a dining establishment: Reservations. Continue reading “No reservations? No thanks. I’m not lining up for shit.”

How to lose my business at your restaurant

Spilled Glass

I’ll have you know, despite my tendency to use the word “fuck” and my inclinations toward beer as opposed to tea or sherry or whatever it is that fancy people are supposed to drink, I’m something of fan of fine dining.

I wouldn’t go so far as to call myself a “foodie,” but that’s mainly because I hate that word and feel that in its present state of overuse it’s come to mean anyone who puts edible items in or near their suckholes.

Nevertheless, I enjoy an elaborate evening of dining and whereas it seems to be fashionable these days to slam the sort of pretentious restaurants that might be so bold as to suggest that eating with them is an “experience,” this is in fact exactly the sort of thing I go for when I’m out for a nice meal.

I like to hear about the rotating cocktail menu, I like knowing where the produce on hand was grown, and yes, if you’ve got it handy, I will read the credit report of the cow whom I’m about to eat a chunk of between two buns, thanks. Continue reading “How to lose my business at your restaurant”