Out & About #417 | R&D + The Rec Room

​Toronto's annual Winterlicious has rolled around yet again. Last year marked my first experience at Miku - Toronto's not-so-waterfront location. The menu has ceased to diverse from the previous set of offerings, though had been subjected to inflation nonetheless.

Nami on Adelaide had been the original pick, though a reservation had been refused for a Saturday lunch. This prompted a re-evaluation of other options, eventually pointing in the direction of an unexplored eatery in Chinatown.

​With a name devoid of words and an interior enclosed from the public, R&D gives off the illusion of a mysterious laboratory whose operations take place amidst the bustle of fruit vendors and street musicians. The brick building in which it shares with the adjacent coffee + clothing hybrid offers rustic appeal while providing camouflage from pedestrians mindlessly trekking down Spadina. Little can be seen of the restaurant's inside at street level, which can lead one to ponder the hype behind the culinary enterprise of two well-travelled MasterChef identities.

​In anticipation of the ridiculous TTC closures, I set out a tad early to compensate for lost time. While I had managed to arrive earlier than the reserved time, the hostess was more than willing to guide me to the table, and even allow the option of selecting a different table for improved access to illumination.

Undoubtedly the brightest spots in the establishment were the bar stools immediately facing the open preparation area. Between the larger tables in the back dining area and the smaller ones in the lounge, both proved dim though visually appealing.
The lounge area, in particular, was exceptionally sophisticated in terms of a (well-cushioned) L-shaped booth seating along the wall and industrial-style light fixtures. Resting on each circular table was a booklet listing alcoholic offerings and utensils (including a lengthy pair of chopsticks); later provided was a jug of water such that guests could refill their own glasses as necessary.

​Having perused the Winterlicious menu in advance, plucking items of interest from the list was a walk in the park. The meat-less options of Ratatouille and Japchae reeked of bourgeois - why attempt such typical dishes of vegetable stir fry and glass noodles when Galleria could likely debut a more economic variation in a greater portion? A mere dollop of miso butter does not warrant such hefty price tags, in my opinion.

< Pictured above and below: Egg Drop Soup, Cereal Prawn Tart, Tom Yum Salmon Belly, Sweet & Sour Tonkatsu, Milo Panna Cotta, and Upside Down Cake >

View the full album HERE !

Appetizers were rapid to arrive.

The Cereal Prawn Tart, shown as flat discs bearing tiny strands of microgreens from my Insta-research, bore great resemblances to mini savoury muffins in actuality. The trio was served atop a single curry leaf, each dusted with a crunchy and impossibly salty cereal crumble. Intertwined between heavy doses of sodium was a pungent spice that succeeded in stripped the interior of one's mouth of moisture.

Underneath this dry, fiery crumble was a thick, fishy-smelling paste. I would have never been able to determine its identity as "haddock mousse" had I not read the description beforehand, for while it was smooth (and again, sodium-laden), my tastebuds did not find reason to relish the emulsion. ​ Encasing it all was a crumbly tart shell - similar to egg tarts but a tad thicker and richer.

​The Egg Drop Soup was the clear winner of the two. With a familiar viscous base - likely owed to starh thickening - and flavour highlights of chili oil and pepper, the bowl was a modern take on the classic Westernized Chinese starter. As opposed to scallions and finely-chopped bits of pork, floating within were individual strips of imitation crab meat and lap cheong. A gentle sweetness was owed to plump corn kernels.

In place of dainty strips of swiftly-whisked egg white, R&D had opted for a 63-degree egg. Neither of us could picture the result, but it was soon revealed to be something along the lines of a super-soft-boiled egg and poached egg. The exception was that its profile was lightyears more delicate: its exterior was unthinkably thin, even thinner than dampened rice paper, consequently leading to a whopping 9:1 ratio of yolk to white. With just the slightest puncture, the yolk infiltrated into the slick soup base, contributing bold, luxurious flavour.

​Entrées made their way over once the first round of items were finished and cleared. I requested a water refill as well as new plates at this point, as to prevent the overly salty crumbs from the Cereal Prawn Tart from interfering with the flavours of the next dish.

​I had carried initial worries about the Tom Yum Salmon Belly, since the very mention of tom yum indicates potential for fire-breathing spice. Contrary to this perception, the tom yum velouté emerged as a relatively mild cream sauce bearing underlying tones of vinegar and aromatic zings. The surface of the salmon belly had been charred ever so slightly, while its interior was plush and sufficiently seasoned. The high fat content had contributed to uniform dispersion of flavours during the cooking process - an aspect that was greatly appreciated by both of us. Cold couscous bordered the Omega-3-packed protein source, while two Tao Kae Noi-esque strips acted as edible garnish.
The only factor found to be odd was how the salmon belly emerged lukewarm instead of steaming.

​Sweet & Sour Tonkatsu was, presumably, the restaurant's variation of Korean-style tonkatsu and Cantonese sweet and sour pork. Breaded spheres of supple pork had been piled atop a bed of stale purple rice, then topped with braised cabbage that tasted more like pickled bamboo shoots.
I couldn't stomach more than two spoonfuls of the purple rice: while it was as coarse and chewy as the traditional Korean version, the grains were stale and the sriracha-like ssamjang sauce was much too spicy to handle.
The tonkatsu bites were tender, however the soft, shockingly sweet coating took us by surprise. More reminiscent of Mott's applesauce than tangy sweet and sour dressing, it was an unmistably bizarre profile.

​Amongst the three dessert options, we had agreed upon Upside Down Cake and Milo Panna Cotta. Suggested by me was the former, as it was believed that the sheet cake required a decent amount of effort to construct. Milo Panna Cotta, though seemingly a diner favourite, had appeared common at first but later succeeded expectations.

​Milo, a chocolate malt powder hailing from Australia, is a non-perishable household product capable of sustaining years of use. I was skeptical of its usage in Panna Cotta originally, primarily in fear of digging into a grainy, synthetic-tasting pudding. The crushed Oreo "cookie crumble" and torched mini marshmallow were none too spectacular, however, the jiggly panna cotta was impressive by means of combining chocolatey flavours and heavy cream without a smidgen of heaviness. Perhaps I wouldn't have been able to distinguish the addition of Milo at all had I not read the description, but conclusively speaking, it was a sweet conclusion to the seasoning-heavy meal.

​The Upside Down Cake was significantly less enjoyable, regrettably so. A dense cake heavily laced with spices (and specifically cinnamon), it offered the exact opposite effect. Instead of alleviating heaviness from the appetizers and entrées, it further contributed to feelings of satiation via an excruciating sweetness. Two bites in and I had shoved the chantilly cream-topped specimen away for good.

​Service had been friendly and prompt for the most part, though I couldn't help but feel a bit rushed when the waiter asked if he could present the bill in the midst of clearing away dessert plates. On the other hand, we hadn't been the speediest diners, and there were probably reservations lined up for the remainder of the day.

Washrooms took the form of individual, gender-separated stalls. It was beyond my reasoning why a restaurant of such high seating capacity had limited restroom space to two (or maybe three?) stalls. Regardless, the interior boasted enough illumination and cleanliness. 

​In terms of accessibility, the eatery is not the friendliest as one needs to climb a stocky flight of stairs before reading the reception table/dining area.

​R&D is a fusion diner very fitting of its name - the research and development concept is clearly visible in its menu. Had it not been for the introduction of a prix fixe menu though, I would be quick to say that a visit to the establishment would be not be warranted. Price tags are atrocious and hype is heavy. While the ambience is soothing and the environment is exceedingly pleasant (and much cleaner than that of Mildred's), I do not see myself endorsing Chinese-/Korean-inspired dishes that could either be a hit or miss.
​
For the adventurous beings out there, feel free to attempt. But don't say I didn't warn you.

​Next up on the plan was to stop by Little Pebbles. The Strawberry Mont Blanc frequently advertised on social media had drawn me in.
Sadly, lunch had left me too full to attempt the beautiful creation. Moreover, the compact cafe extended not a single vacancy. A Kinako Latte was taken to go intead.

​As someone who never tires of arcades and action-filled games, I suggested trying out The Rec Room.
The establishment has been fully operational since last summer, but I had never really looked into it. Its very location in tourist central was one of the factors that persuaded from initial investigation.
Would it be another pricey tourist trap? Is the concept of an open bar (literally) and arcade too messy to handle?

​Upon closer inspection, it was learned that The Rec Room was also home to The Void, a virtual reality game area that supposedly engages various senses to produce a completely immersive experience. Entry fees were hefty at $24 per person, for sessions only lasting between 12-15 minutes.
Online reservations were unavailable, so the sole option of trial was same-day, in-person requests. That being said, wait times were minimal. Once the previous session's users vacated the premises, apparatus was disinfected, and electronic waivers were signed, guests could stash their belongings in lockers and suit up.

​Prior to our reserved slot, we lined up for the complimentary coat check - a splendid addition for guests to enjoy their time without the hassle of having to lug a down-filled jacket across the floor - and experimented with several of the arcade games.

​The Void allowed for several users to utilize the same space at once, acting a team of ghost-raiding civilians. Unlike the uncomplicated HTC Vive headgear and remotes at VR Zone, The Void's version involved donning heavy backpacks and full headgear, complete with mics and surround sound. Instead of a static game whose graphics only circulated within one room, The Void was entirely interactive. Moreover, the headpiece could be securely worn over glasses without any issues whatsoever.
Doors shown on the VR screen were, in fact, real doors that users that could open and enter. The rays fired from the handheld guns could be felt reflecting off the ground and onto one's legs. At one point, there was even a mist of "slime" from one of the ghosts in the story.

Narrations were clear and graphics were vivid and ridiculously realistic. Each room provided a different sensation: the extended balcony featured gusts of wind, and defeating the final boss resulted in the sweet scent of toasted marshmallow.

​Some Yelpers had complained the game selection to be inferior when compared to Playdium, and photos of the game area had led me to feel similarly until I saw the display before my very own eyes. As opposed to a random distribution of action, simulation, and control-based games, The Rec Room had bunched similar games in the same area. For example, chance-based ball drop and pachinko were lumped in one aisle, while basketball and ball tossing in another.

​I actually have zero complaints towards the variety of games themselves, for some of my favourites that had vanished from Playdium made an appearance in The Rec Room. Furthermore, the downtown spot also carried a few new games as well, namely Speed of Light - a test of speed and hand-eye coordination. A photo booth spacious enough for six people was also available.

​Credits, on average, were pricier than Playdium. The minimum purchase of 40 credits ($10) resulted in a unit price of 25 cents per credit before tax, while the "best value" deal of 200 credits ($30) divided into a unit price of 15 cents per credit. Playdium prices ranged between 13.3 and 16.9 cents per credit. (Please note that this information is subject to change at the discretion of the mentioned establishments.)
However, one should also note that individual games required fewer credits than Playdium. One-person games ranged between 4-6 credits, whereas Playdium easily charges 5-8 credits per play. The sole exception at The Rec Room was the photo booth, which rang in 28 credits; in reality though, this is the monetary equivalent of three dollars, which isn't a particularly hefty price tag.

​Another difference lies in the playing experience: instead of a swipe card, guests are given re-loadable tag bracelets (similar to that of KCON LA) for convenience of movement. These electronic tags can be reloaded with the assistance of customer service personnel or via self-serve machines situated outside the Trophy Case.
At this point, it is also important to point that the quality of the redemption prizes. As opposed to the tacky plastic jewelry and low-quality stuffed toys at Playdium, The Rec Room featured surprisingly useful items, and at lower points redemption levels. Frankly speaking, the joy of an arcade normally resides in the engagement of games anyway, though I'm certain no one would mind ending off the evening with a new portable battery or set of monogrammed shot glasses.

​Finally, the scene is less juvenile than that of Playdium, which is catered to be family-friendly. Beyond the difference in menus (gourmet burgers vs. french fries and hot dogs), the attendees of the area help to craft the vibe: it is laidback and casual with just a mere hint of competitiveness. With majority of the players being over the age of majority (unintentional homophone alert), there is a minimum level of respect maintained. Signs are distributed throughout Playdium to remind younger visitors that they should limit game play to two turns, such that other patrons can participate as well. Here, game hogging is nonexistent. Players kindly turn their heads to inquire whether other guests would like a try before continuining.
I can't quite say I'm fond of the random plastic cups of beers in crowded areas, though it is an innovative touch to a downtown entertainment centre.

​With that said, The Rec Room proved far more enjoyable than expected. Placing travel distance and game wait time aside, the downtown complex is easily a spot I would return to for more fun times. In addition to being within close proximity with Ontario's largest transit hub, the environment is also suitable for both groups and/or intimate gatherings.

The day wrapped up with a hectic attempt to fulfill errands before the next train departed, however the despicable TTC closure hindered the process.
Two missed trains later, I settled for dinner in the form of a hearty bowl of Gyuudon takeout from Gyugyuya.

​My excursion had been eventful, and truly a memorable series of happenings.

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