Out & About #1066 | Waterworks Food Hall, ROM Nature in Brilliant Colour + Mikaku Udon Bar

Sometimes, mostly Mondays when caught off guard by mandatory office attendance, I enter the week utterly unprepared. Winter climate conditions can vary between gusty and blistering to overcast and drizzly, prompting much-needed variations to the down jacket-scarf-gloves-toque combo.

My resolve to walk could be described as resolute. Despite dressing thinner than I ought have, the desire to undertake a lunchtime saunter would not wane. I also reckoned that a brisk stroll would aid in heat generation, thus inciting a(n arguably) lengthier trek than required.

The solo stroll would lead me to Waterworks Food Hall, which I had passed previously while zooming to Outer Layer and Loblaws at Queen/Portland.

​It was my understanding that the building wasn't newly constructed, but rather altered to enable the occupancy of food kiosks on the ground level and an event space on the upper level. Many of these vendors weren't new to the Toronto fast dining scene, but rather spinoffs of existing storefronts across the GTA. For starters, Karak was a rebranded edition of Naan & Chai (813) while Aburi a condensed outpost of the comparatively upscale Miku, TORA, and Minami dine-in spots.

Musoshin was also present, offering their coveted Kyoto White Miso Ramen for $20.50, a 15% increase from their summer 2023 menu price (and current website price) of $17.80.

​Washroom facilities could be located on the ground floor as well as the second storey by following the abundance of black-and-white signage. The upper level featured elements of the heritage building along the tiled walls, an "Event Hall and Lounge", and a spacious corridor that enabled an overhead view of the bustling dining scene below.

Parking was apparently available underground, though I mistakenly found my way into the furnace and loading areas on P1 instead. Without any other hidden corners of interest, I exited back into the vibrant vendor area, then onto Maud Street to continue my journey.

​Along this stretch was Midori, where barren tree branches were beautifully reflected in the sheen of their storefront logo. On the window was advertisement of Monday to Thursday lunch specials: a free Popcorn Chicken starter with purchase of one ramen.

Gong Cha offered similar daily specials, however extended the promo to include weekends and remove time restrictions. The only beverage of interest was Brown Sugar Milk Tea with 2J, which, fortunately, coincided with my usual office days as of late.

​Instead of succumbing to the unforeseen blessing, I'd adhere to my original plans: To obtain Tim Hortons' newly launched White Chocolate Pistachio Latte.

And I did, as did the Thai ahgase. Both of concluded that neither the hot nor iced renditions exhibited the presence of pistachio. Moreover, it was simply milky - simply a plain ol' latte that wasn't worth the premium price point.

The following day was one to be remembered. My dearest coworker would be departing for a different department, a grand new start!

Krispy Kreme donuts (and bonus IKEA Ginger Thins) would keep us energized until lunchtime.

Cafe Landwer on Adelaide had been my suggestion for the farewell party. Proximity of decent eateries in the Entertainment District are far and few, as I learned a decade prior. Even less widespread is the availability of vegetarian fare that is neither repulsive nor overpriced. Middle Eastern cuisine tends to enhance ingredients while amplifying their natural aromas, thus was presumed a safe choice for all dietary preferences.

​We strode in slightly after 11:30 AM without a reservation, for OpenTable did not permit lunchtime bookings. It was a relatively quiet weekday lunch hour with at least four vacant tables and absolutely no need to join the waitlist.
Unfortunately, our large party of about ten would be seated across two separate tables. Even more unfortunate was the sheer placement of the seating area: in the direct path of the door, which opened frequently to invite chilly wintry gusts from the outside. Needless to say, our coats were only shed momentarily before immediately being replaced on our shoulders.

The scene was just as chaotic as the chain's uptown locations but with less efficient and less attentive servers. Furthermore, every single one donned unpleasant demeanours - expressions synonymous with "Don't call on me."
Frankly, there was an excess of servers walking around, appearing to be busy tending to customer operations. But the dining process was slow and sluggish, telltale of the lack of productivity in spite of these individuals' step counts. Most of the time, the waitresses were spotted clustering about in groups, conversing amongst themselves whilst ignoring the raised hands of guests.

​It was my assumption that QR code-based online ordering had been implemented to facilitate order taking. The sign placed on our table guided patrons to a browser-based ordering platform, where one could view detailed description of all menu items, their prices, and insert commentary as needed. The system was not dissimilar to those adopted by Petit Potato and Good Luck HK Cafe, however the response received from the service staff was hardly one that embraced kindness.

The platform was clearly intended to assist with order taking and dish-specific inquiries. However, a waitress quickly neared our table to reprimand us for using the QR code setup as it would "confuse" the ordering system and automatically put food in takeout containers. The latter was beneficial in my eyes, for it eliminated the waiting time to retrieve a container and pack it myself at the end of the meal.
Nevertheless, I was baffled that the customers had been made out to be the antiheroes when the process was intended to implement efficient procedures. Should the platform not be intended for dine-in orders, the staff should simply shift the sign near the waiting area where takeout orders are more prevalent or add fine print to the sign noting these restrictions/concerns. Such an approach would be a significantly more beneficial than scolding customers who merely desired a straightforward dining experience without having to wait 5 minutes before asking about menu item details or the bill.

​If not for the online ordering platform, my coworker would not have been made aware of the Sahleb, a creamy beverage topped with a trio of crushed walnuts, shredded coconut, and cinnamon.

All four of us at the first table opted in favour of the restaurant's signature Shakshuka. The Mediterranean, Halloumi, and Sinia Kabob renditions would be distributed across the table, each accompanied by a round of Challah with tahini and small salad (both of which were complimentary sides).

Included as part of my online order was a note that read: "No spice or as mild as possible", but my order came with a greater spice level than Landwer's other locations. Furthermore, the food was lukewarm in spite of the cast iron skillet being hot to touch.
The side Challah was passable: crusty but, again, somewhat cold. The tahini was creamy and delicious, as was the chain's signature Shakshuka. It wasn't a huge deviation from the North York outpost in terms of fare, but the meal was hardly memorable. Had my first encounter with Cafe Landwer taken place at this location, I'd have refrained from recommending the eatery at all costs.

Had all the individual disappointments of the experience not sufficed in deducing a mediocre meal, the washroom was found absolutely revolting. While the seat was clear of debris and the wastebin emptied, layers of feces could be seen clinging to the inside of the bowl. It was a shocking sight indeed, essentially indicating the staff's neglect towards scrubbing the toilet bowl for the wellbeing of customers and fellow colleagues.

In summary, the fare was consistent, service slower and boorish, and facilities noticeably and unacceptably filthier.

While the rest of my colleagues depleted their meals in their entirety, I was the outlier with at least one more meal of leftovers to take home. These would be transferred to containers and stashed in the freezer compartment of the office fridge to prevent impacting my post-work activities.

​Concluding the day was a Tiramisu cake from Longos. Despite the centre being only partially thawed, it was quite delicious overall and harnessed the quintessential qualities of tiramisu in a sturdier, slice-able format.

Come 4 PM, my browsing partner would meet me downtown. From there, we'd head to the ROM.

This would mark yet another visit enabled by the TPL Map Pass, but the first to the Royal Ontario Museum. Free ROM Nights had been chaotic, thus the goal was to avoid the bustle instigated by waived admission. Little did I know that the museum was slated to close at 5:30 PM.

The TPL Map pass noted complimentary access to special exhibits "subject to capacity". Given our relatively late visit and low visitor volumes, we were permitted entry into the ongoing exhibits:

• Nature in Brilliant Colour
• Wildlife Photographer of the Year
• Auschwitz.

My primary exhibition of interest was none other than Wildlife Photographer of the Year. Snippets had been seen at ProFusion, while the overall experience itself was anticipated to align with the 2016 edition. Due to proximity though, I suggested venturing through the Nature in Brilliant Colour exhibition first, seeing as it was conveniently located on the ground floor just past the stairwell.

​Waltzing through the double doors without the vaguest idea of the scene behind them, I was pleasantly surprised by the contents of the exhibit, as well as their presentation through winding corridors and interactive displays. Welcoming us was a brilliant peacock, its feathery tail - the "train" - expansive and opulent.

​Visitors would then turn into an introductory section on colour perception. Illustrated in text and graphics along the wall was a condensed explanation of middle school/high school-level science principles: colour cones, light split, reflection/refraction, and pigment vs. light. Interactive portions with coloured filters and light rays from a projector could then be used to further understanding and spark curiosity in younger visitors. 

View the full album HERE !

​As we transitioned away from the wholly white walls, subsequent sections were discovered to showcase the colour spectrum as it naturally existed in nature.

Starting from red, artifacts had been collected to denote the meaning behind the vibrant shade: warning, attraction, severity, and more.

Next was orange, which made appearances on the coats of tigers, the exterior of clownfish (popularized by Nemo), and even whale poop!

​Navigating through the installations, one could perceive the evident change in tone by taking note of the associated amount of illumination used. Yellow was noticeably more brilliant than green, and blue brighter than purple.

​A tranquil, underwater-esque display was erected towards the midpoint of the exhibit. On the screen was a hypnotizing transition of aquatic species; the floor was tiled to mirror the footage in a majestic manner that could be comprehensively appreciated by resting in the similarly azure seats.

The purple section combined both well-illuminated and dark corners. In the former were displays of amethyst stone, while the investigative abilities of ultraviolet in the latter.

​The press of a button would trigger a UV filter on the specimen under review, enabling one to identify different elements within the same animal or object with the naked eye. UV improved visibility of bones in scorpions and flying squirrels; meanwhile, the filter altered the chroma of rocks and shells entirely, making otherwise hidden patterns and geological features detectable.

Last but not least was a shift towards black and white pigment, inclusive of their response to light and unspoken message to other animals. This section simultaneously identified the significance and glamour of iridescence, mainly observed in the feathers of dainty birds.

The Nature in Brilliant Colour exhibit also featured an in-house gift shop. Plush peacocks and bean bag toads aside, I was rather invested in the colour-changing projections near the exit. Each transition would give rise to the species correlating to the colour on display.

Our stopover was accompanied was perhaps four other visitors plus five members of security. The experience was as serene as could be, which is truthfully more than I could ask for during a short-lived museum stay.

​Making our ascent to the upper level, my browsing partner pointed out a rocks and mineral display - a fixed installation that I had, surprisingly, never viewed despite my countless visits to the ROM. I suggested to "come back", as the Wildlife Photographer of the Year exhibit still awaited me. Unfortunately, by the time we arrived at its doors, the clock already read 5 PM. A member of security informed me that closing procedures would commence at the 20-minute mark.

​Hearing this, I was met with extreme dismay. For once, my sole desire was to stroll through leisurely, taking in every single image and the intent/story behind it. This was especially the case given that one could not hover about a single image for long if visiting on a busy day.

​I managed to cover majority of the exhibit, though at a more hurried pace than I would have liked. While my browsing expressed lack of interest due to the fact that they were "simply photographs", I begged to differ and wanted to learn more about the photographers' aim, methodologies, and message. Particularly of interest was the technique: With developments in technology, images on display now included those stitched together from multiple frames and even those captured from horizontal frames from a drone. The presentation of these photos alone depicted the boundless potential of new hardware and creativity of digital editing across the globe.

​After retrieving my items form the coat check (still three dollars and still limited to one item), we contemplated the next step of action.

Admittedly, it was too soon for supper. By the time we had completed a chilly walk through Yorkville, brief subway trip from Bloor/Yonge, and undertaken another brisk saunter along Carlton Street, we arrived at the desired dinner destination just past 6 PM.

Mikaku Udon Bar was located at the southwest corner of Carlton and Parliament. Its coordinates were arguably easy to reach via the College/Carlton streetcar, should the streetcar rear its head at all, but a tad eerie for covering on foot after dark.

The dining area was compact, as majority of downtown eateries are. As such, it wasn't difficult to see why reservations were recommended. On a blistering Tuesday evening though, I was thankful to obtain the last two-seater in the restaurant.
Booth seating along the east perimeter enabled more guests to occupy a single table. That said, the presence of bulky bags and backpacks originating from commuters and students alike reduced comfort levels. To account for guests and bags of the neighbouring tables, I likely shifted my own belongings thrice over the course of the meal.

There was also an astoundingly high number of solo diners, most seemingly treating themselves to a cozy meal away from the subzero conditions after getting off work.​

Sanuki Udon just outside College station had been the original pick. However, upon delving into the countless reviews criticizing costly but meager portion sizes and excessively salty but bland broths, I proposed an alternative. Mikaku offered a similar lineup of traditional udon dishes, but also drew inspiration from its uptown izakaya format. Udon remained the emphasis of the restaurant, though a broad range of shareables and soup-/non-soup-based items weren't uncommon either. The Spicy  Seafood Cream Udon was declared one of their best-sellers, not alarmingly. Maze Udon was another popular item, but simply too greasy for my liking, as I learned from Kokoro several years back.

​Between the two of us, I requested a Geso Karaage for sharing. The calamari-style dish was less frequently seen than Chicken Karaage and offered wispy, anju-style squid legs instead of meaty, juicy battered bits. Comprised of baby spinach and coated minimally with dressing, the side salad was quite enjoyable. On the other hand, the "housemade karaage sauce" merely appeared to be okonomiyaki sauce with a drizzle of kewpie mayo that separated instead of incorporated. Yellow pickled radish (danmuji) and pickled cucumber and onion slices were served on the side.

At seeing Hitachino Nest make an appearance on the drink menu, I simply could not resist pointing towards the White Ale. Directly underneath was the Non-Ale, a never-before-seen variety that catered perfectly towards those with alcohol aversions like my browsing partner.

The White Ale never disappoints, but the Non-Ale harnessed the hue of a honey amber with the palate of slightly hoppy water. If consumed on its own, the difference may not have been obvious. Alongside the White Ale, however, the stark reduction in complexity was distinguishable.

The Oden Udon assumed my immediate pick, partly due to the external conditions and partly a result of my flat fish cake cravings being unfulfilled since New Year's Eve. In all, the bowl did not justify its nineteen-dollar price tag: with a base of powder-based dashi broth, one round fish cake cut into quarters, single Shiitake cap, sprinkle of fragrant chives, and no meat save a submerged and soggy sotteok sotteok, the material cost was unlikely to exceed seven dollars. Tasty it was, but gratifying it was not. (The samgyetang-inspired Herbal Chicken Udon listed underneath may have been the heartier alternative.) The texture of the udon faltered slightly into soggy territory when served with piping hot broth, but regained a soft chewiness the day after when reheated to an edible temperature.

Delightfully smoky and brimming with depth was the Buta Udon across the table. The bowl impressively succeeded at appeasing one's appetite without accidentally veering into satiating territory. The tenkasu topping was another factor worth nothing, for its airy crunch effortlessly incited subsequent bites.

Service was extremely attentive, with both the waitress and waiter checking in on us several times. When it came to packing leftovers, the waiter had no issues providing two sturdy plastic containers to prevent the noodles from being permeated with excess broth. Provision of a plastic bag was another unexpected benefit that nearly brought tears to my eyes - Yes! I'll be dramatic about plastic!

I also relished in the udon bar's choice of playlist. Played overhead at reasonable volumes was a K-Pop playlist comprising of hits from the 2010s, spanning Taeyang solos, BIGBANG classics, Red Velvet's Pyscho, BEAST's On Rainy Days, and more. This was a wonderful upgrade from the rowdy tracks of recent K-Pop.

​Washrooms were located on the basement level, serviced by a wooden staircase. Such an arrangement of indoor plumbing facilities is prevalent in the downtown core, however I was pleased to note the clean layout, tranquil white walls, and lack of eeriness observed. The stalls adopted a space-saving layout with the sink and toilet being positioned perpendicular to the access corridor. Previously seen at stackt market, this configuration enables more stalls within the same area without compromising feelings of spaciousness.

Instead of retracing our steps westward along Carlton, I advocated in favour of venturing south along Parliament. The plan was to walk off feelings of fullness then hop on the next streetcar. Unfortunately, we did not cross paths with a single northbound/westbound streetcar along our trek. Nearing the intersection of Dundas/Parliament, the scene appeared grim and desolate, and us frigid from the chilly conditions. Instead of wasting time waiting around, I led the way along Dundas, noting that we'd continue walking whilst keeping an eye out for the Dundas streetcar.

Over our approximate thirty-two-minute-or-so trek, a total of five streetcars were spotted, all of which were headed eastbound. At last, we arrived at Tsujiri.

The renowned matcha boutique has now closed their cozy dining area and washroom facilities, prompting my urgent visit to the nearest municipal building. In the meantime, my browsing partner took to a Brown Sugar Parfait. I returned to sample a concoction inferior to the one shared at Daigyo. Despite the corn flakes contributing a much-needed crunch element, the cup's contents were cloying with both brown sugar syrup and brown sugar jelly. Moreover, the soft serve was excessively bitter instead of rich and luxurious, as Daigyo had executed.

For reasons beyond me, not a single drop of water intake would take place since departing Mikaku. This was a horrible decision, for I'd welcome the following morning with a grueling hangover and peak nausea.

We caught the train back before 9 PM, much to my glee. Alas, my optimism towards recovering time for myself was deemed naive. Conversations with my browsing partner somehow led to depletion of my car battery in the cold. CAA came to my rescue, thankfully, and I was glad to finally make use of my membership since one year of subscribing and not taking advantage of their services.

After a fruitless 2.5h conversation, I became convinced that self-awareness and the ability to put yourself in another's shoes are acquired aptitudes rather than inherent qualities. More importantly, the realization and motivation to improve must come from within; no amount of external assistance can further one's development.