It's crucial to make the most of a trip, including tending to errands along the way and trying out new establishments in the vicinity.
Although not entirely unpleasant, I am unsure whether I'd return for a third trial. The flavours, though pronounced, are quite excessive, overpowering the delicate properties of its foundation - the plain egg waffles and its sheer texture profile. Should you contemplate attempting Eggette Hut, it is highly recommended to have a few friends in tow. Sharing the waffles is less likely to result in sugar/sodium overdose, all while lowering the cost per unit of the pricey little fragments.
I went on to spend a relaxing half hour of reading at Chapters - one of the exceptionally few GTA locations which hasn't been renamed as "Indigo", then engaging in rapid research for nearby dinner options.
Locating its coordinates was a simple task: being at the corner of the plaza ensured that patrons traversing north along Woodbine would spot it with ease. I pulled into the utterly horrendous parking lot, immediately furrowing my brows at the wretched scene that lay before me.
For a private lot, one would have assumed the owner(s) to have invested in maintenance procedures in the name of continued business. Sadly, this was not the case; potholes, large, ponding cracks, sporadically depressed sections were dispersed throughout. The sudden jumps in grade were annoying not only to drivers, but created nasty trip hazards to pedestrians as well.
To encourage drinking, they even presented a menu of mix-and-match izakaya combos. At a mere nineteen dollars, patrons had the option of pairing a single appetizer-sized platter with either 16 oz. of draft beer ir 200 ml of sake. Amongst these small servings were deep-fried oysters, salmon sashimi, BBQ unagi, and more.
Rolls and makis were found on a separate, double-sided laminated menu; even more options were nestled within a tattered hardcover menu.
That is not to say that they were dismal orders of sustenance, however they didn't succeed in leaving a strong impression either. The starters were straightforward and very, very typical.
Salmon was unmistakably the tastiest of the bunch, while the fllimsy shrunken piece of Ebi and tendon-laden seared red tuna were the least commendable.
The rice was devoid of furikake - all the better, should you ask me - yet maintained an addicting sweetness that would prompt continuous mouthfuls.
We concluded the meal with fresh orange slices - a rare offering in modern day Japanese restaurants.
In rolled a tsunami of highly unpleasant memories, an overwhelming, sickening flashback I wished I hadn't recalled.
Nothing had changed. The apparatus was as finicky as before. As the door connecting the hallway to the ladies' room remained propped open, I took extra care in ensuring the stall door was secured, but that the lock was not slid into its groove all the way.
This time, I managed to depart with both dignity and sanity, but past recollections of my horrid experience shall not be obliterated. And with that said, I don't think I'll be giving Mi-Ne another try. Should I find myself in the area, I'll make sure to save bathroom usage for a different destination.
Firmness was reduced in comparison to Win's Seafood, but the degree of bitterness was matched. Personally speaking, the syrup that accompanied the Win's was superior.