I just can’t stay away from the excellent bbq place. Dragged B there last Tuesday through the ambience-appropriate humidity, where she had a really unlikely looking margarita.
Then we had platters of meat.
It’s all delightfully yummy, with some fine touches that amplify the notion of traditional bbq, which no one has ever really quite managed to replicate in Canada. But even on a hot sticky evening, it doesn’t come close to the Salt Lick in Driftwood Texas.
They don’t need the Sheriff at the Salt Lick anymore — they have a bigger parking lot with lots of arrows and space. But it’s still festive and crammed with live music, people bringing their own coolers of beer to the dry county, and plates of meat meat meat.
The ribs at Barque are a mere echo of “real” bbq… but on a hot night, you can almost imagine the firepits.
And the smoked popcorn, bourbon sours, hipster margaritas and the pirouetting server whose parents are from El Salvador make it truly Toronto.