I checked out The Electric Owl for the first time over the weekend. On nights prior I’d received several drunken texts and emails from several of its first patrons saying misshapen grammatical oddities along the lines of “woah fuck you ben here yet dude shit is Engrish crazy” (direct quote, sic) and so on. One texted photo showed a masked man in the unfinished basement wielding a sledgehammer with ill-intent. Naturally, with that kind of savant magic going on, I had to go a few times to taste such irreverent flavour. It definitely gets pretty wild at night (packed to the gills), but in the day it’s a desert – dead as Dunbar at night. I don’t mind the look of it in the least (great vibe and sound system), though I do think spreading a sweetened excuse for a carbonara sauce over perfectly good pork gyozas is a crime worthy of medieval punishment. Have a look…
I might be writing it up in the paper in the coming weeks, so I’ll have to save my word count for that. You can read my pre-opening thoughts on the 200-seat, Japanese izakaya-themed live music monster here. If you haven’t been yet, it’s definitely worth checking out. I suspect there’s a full spectrum of opinions on the place. What’s yours?