Out & About #451 | Part 2: Infinity Mirrors, One Zo + Dagu Rice Noodle

Read Part 1 HERE !

​Next up on the itinerary was the Yayoi Kusama Infinity Mirrors exhibit.
For loyal followers of this space, it should come as no surprise that I've been eager to attend the dotty display since its announcement in January. By the time the fourth public release of tickets came around, I had already been convinced that I would not be able to attend, yet somehow I managed to secure tickets for four. Regrettably, my favourite fangirl was unable to make it as weekend tickets had sold out completely.

​The event operated in a fashion similar to Wonderland trips: long lineups for individual attractions that provided quick bursts of visual satisfaction.
A pamphlet outlined the seven rooms available for viewing: some dimly lit and some completely illuminated. The entire exhibit spanned two floors, where Kusama's paintings and standalone works filled the gaps in between the timed "infinity rooms".

View the full album HERE !

​Explanations and tidbits of additional information were posted about the lineup gates, though little attention was paid to them (on our part anyway). I was much more engrossed in contemplating ways of capturing the rooms in their entirety within the 20- to 30-second allowance period.

​To be completely honest, I felt as if the very brief moments inside each room had been enforced purposely such that viewers would shift their focus from mass photo-taking to personal immersement. Most often times, one does not stare at a painting undisturbed for longer than 20 seconds anyway.

Dim rooms and a multitude of colourful illumination sources easily capture my heart. It gives the illusion of being isolated in an everlasting capacity of thoughts and emotions, in the most soothing way possible.

​"Aftermath of Obliteration of Eternity" (2009) conjured feelings of calmness; it was as if one had strode into a festival of lights on a balmy summer night, with not a single soul to muddle with one's thoughts.

"The Souls Of Millions Of Light Years Away" (2013) was a galactic party contained within a box of roughly forty-eight cubic metres. Occasional flashes of LED lights were reflected between the mirrors.

​"Love Forever" (1966/1994) was another fascinating stop. Rather than viewers being completely enveloped by the exhibit, it adopted the form of a life-sized kaleidoscope with alternating colour schemes.

​"Dots Obsession - Love Transformed into Dots" (2007) was associated with the shortest wait time. The entire scene was very ladybug-esque; characterized by the heavy use of magenta and ostentatious 50's-style black polka dots, the room yielded a hazy, fantasy-like aura.

​We passed by several sculptures before landing at the second last room, "All the Eternal Love I Have for the Pumpkins" (2016). Photography was forbidden in this kabocha-themed room, for reasons beyond us. With modern day technology out of the way though, twenty seconds felt more than sufficient in taking in our dual-toned squash surroundings.

​"Phalli's Field" (1965) was the first room we entered, and quite possibly the least exciting of them all. To be frank, I wasn't quite certain what it was that we were gazing at. The stout, abstract sculptures at ground level donned dots of different sizes, but did not seem reminiscent of any object or animal in the slightest. The sole factor that caught my attention was the low ceiling constructed of mesh.

​Concluding the exhibit was "The Obliteration Room" (2012), which was originally white but was later covered with coloured polka dot stickers with the assistance of attendees. The theory was to "allow each visitor to partake on a journey to infinity, one polka dot at a time".
There were no time limits on this final stop, so images could be captured in excess.

​Yayoi Kusama's Infinity Mirrors exhibit cannot be deemed a life-changing experience, however it was indeed an amusing way to pass time. Ticket prices were tolerable at $30 per adult (and $21 for students); the challenging part was securing a spot in the AGO's virtual lineup amidst the hype.
With the amount of media attention garnered though, one could have easily gotten their dosage of dots via various outlets on the Internet.

​The total duration spent at AGO averaged 2.5 hours. By this time, stomachs were empty and bodies were dehydrated. The group was in support of my suggestion for One Zo.

< Pictured above and below:  Pineapple Date Berry, Oolong Milk Tea w/ Sesame Tapioca, Mango Spring Tea w/ Purple Tapioca, Peach Green Tea w/ Sesame Tapioca >

​While some tried-and-true teas were revisited, our curiosities were piqued with the warm weather launch of Spring Teas and Coconut Tapioca. Unfortunately, the shop was out of Coconut Tapioca. Thankfully, the ever-bold Sesame Tapioca was available and just as delicious as the uptown location. The Purple Tapioca. on the other hand, didn't exactly taste like taro, or anything for that matter.

​​Both the Mango Spring Tea and Peach Green Tea were relayed as robust thirst-quenchers. 

​Venturing back to the west side of the GTA for dinner, our hearts were shattered as we pulled up to Wonton Chai's darkened storefront. Shifting our gaze to their operation hours, we sighed and retreated back to the car upon realizing that the restaurant was closed on Wednesdays. (But why?!​)

A​cross the street was Dagu Rice Noodle - an establishment that not a single member of our party had been bothered to try since its partial takeover of Morals Village.
With nothing to lose - or so we had believed anyway - we stepped foot in the chilly quarters with random imitation shrubbery draping from the ceiling.

​The menu was a single, double-sided slip of paper bearing 85% Simplified Chinese and 8% coherent English translations. It didn't take long to make note of the general characteristics of other patrons, and the reason why diners were generally limited to those that were exclusively fluent in Mandarin.
With a crew barely capable of composing sentences in English, no explanations of the ordering system, and few pictures in sight, the very notion of picking a bowl to feast upon was a mission in itself.

​We made desperate attempts to attain clarification between the Signature Rice Noodles and "Crossing the Bridge" Rice Noodles.
The waitress merely stared back, seemingly as equally puzzled about our question as we were in regards to the options before our eyes.

"Umm these are for this." She drew an imaginary circle about the Signature Rice Noodle options and then pointing to the subheading. "And this is this." Another imaginary circle was drawn before pointing to the second subheading.

We blinked back in annoyance, not quite sure how to respond at her utterance of the obvious.
"What's the difference?" we further questioned.
It was only at this point that the "Crossing the Bridge" options involved customers placing ingredients into a roaring pot themselves, while the Signature bowls arrived with all components already intact.

​"Ah." I thought, "We would have been completely capable of deducing that from the wonderful translations included."
"Mountain Cliff Mushrooms Crossing the Bridge" ?? I understand entirely.

This same girl later brought us an extra order of rice noodles when we requested an additional bowl for sharing. ​(What was that affirming nod that we witnessed then??)

​We took to an Original Crossing the Bridge Rice Noodle with an add-on of "Certified Angus Rib Eye Beef Slices" and a Tomato Flavoured Crossing the Bridge Rice Noodles with Beef Slices with an add-on of Stuffed Meatballs. (These names are certainly something.)
Deduced from the tables around us, Fresh Watermelon Juice seemed the safest selection off the drink menu.

The Fresh Watermelon Juice was easily the highlight of the meal. Though evidently sweetened post-processing, its freshness could not go unacknowledged.

​Both Crossing the Bridge bowls came with platters of raw ingredients and a hurried message of "Put the meat in quickly" in slurred Mandarin. Constituents of the platter ranged from corn kernels to red sausage slices to imitation crab meat to star-shaped fish balls. Sides of ground meat and salted vegetables also arrived in unison.

The Original bowl boasted a milky broth with distinctive patches of grease. Although it did not taste heavy, usage of synthetic flavour enhancers was strong. Its tomato-flavoured cousin was tangier, which perhaps yielded the illusion of a milder sodium content.

Toppings were relatively passable: Stuffed Meatballs had been a good decision, though the supposedly tender Beef Slices were tough and lean instead.
Unlike the thin threads of vermicelli we had been anticipating, the thick, doughy strips of rice noodles caught us by surprise. Visually speaking, it did not differ drastically from Macey's baked spaghetti dishes; consistency-wise, it was starchy and slightly less springy than MeNami's housemade udon. In retrospect, a heavier noodle was likely used to combat the slickness of the soup bases.

​Washrooms were as revolting as one had presumed of such a casual diner. Sticky floors, unwiped toilets, and unhinged seats were only a few of the factors that landed Dagu's facilities near Icha's level.

We returned home with throats as dry as the Sahara - enough evidence to deter others from dining at this non-English-speaking franchise.