![]() There's no real smoke ring on it, and not much of a bark, that woodsy, candy-crusted, crunchy-fatty shell that comes from long, slow cooking over smouldering hardwood. Similarly, if a barbecue aficionado were to pull apart Electric Mud's pulled pork sandwich and taste the meat on its own, there would be much dismissive chortling. And though they're smoky, they weren't nearly smoky enough for my taste when I had them. They're juicy, sticky and tender – though not enough to taste like classic Toronto braised pork ribs. ![]() The pork ribs are good, but perhaps the least interesting menu item, even covered as they are with peanuts and scallion. ![]() (It's sometimes called "Mexican truffles," a far better name than the also common "corn smut.") Tooke enriches them with savoury, mushroom-like huitlacoche, a black fungus that grows on corn in damp climates. The shrimp and grits at Electric Mud have as much in common with Mexican culinary traditions as Low Country ones Mr. McGrenaghan couldn't afford more powerful speakers. (Grand Electric owes a massive debt of inspiration to Big Star, a hipster tacqueria in Chicago.) Also, the couple times that I ate there, Electric Mud was nowhere near as loud as Grand Electric is. Tooke and Ian McGrenaghan, the owner-chef and owner-manager, respectively, of Grand Electric, the bourbon and tacos joint around the corner on Queen Street West.Įlectric Mud is miles better, because the place is its own thing: familiar, but in many ways original. The duck, like so much else here, was of mixed origins, part Mississippi, part Mekong Delta, a profoundly delicious dish.Įlectric Mud is the second restaurant of Mr. The duck was sauced with a brew of hoisin, fermented black beans, bourbon and honey, sided with vinegary, quick-pickled cucumber slices. There was roasted cauliflower with mint leaves, almonds, and a creamy, smoked cauliflower sauce, cucina povera gone cosmopolitan, lit by the flash of a Miller High Life sign.Īnd duck breast, cured overnight like Black Forest ham, then smoked over apple and maple wood in the Southern Pride smoker, sliced into pieces as thick as axe handles. It tasted of Southern cooking, but also of Spadina Avenue Chinatown, of polyglot Toronto, exactly of now and here. There were wild Caribbean shrimp on top, pickled with jalapenos and onion, coriander stems and rice vinegar. The fried green tomatoes, a special a few weeks ago, came as fat, golden cubes – tart, juicy, viridescent tomato hunks enveloped with crunchy cornmeal batter. It's what happens when very good cooks (in this case, Black Hoof alum Colin Tooke and Ben Denham, his chef de cuisine) take on a couple of far-away cuisines without taking them, or themselves, too seriously. The cooking is a mix of not particularly authentic Southern U.S. Also, the cooking is obscenely, shockingly good. By most accounts, it works sometimes.Īnd now, a couple of reasons why you should eat at Electric Mud BBQ: It can be a lot of fun to eat here. There is a handy ATM outside the ladies washroom on the restaurant's second floor. Though it is not inscribed with a smiley face and the phrase "Please Leave Now," that seems to be the intention eat fast, there's a lineup Electric Mud's management wants your seat back, stat.Īnd you cannot pay that bill with Visa, Amex, MasterCard or Interac – Electric Mud accepts cash only. Electric Mud BBQ's signature cocktail is called the Beergarita. The music – Delta Blues, 1970s rock, Black Sabbath, on vinyl – is loud enough to blow out dental work. If it's cold outside, you will freeze each time the door opens.
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