Out & About #885 | Death Note at TRAPPED + The Keg

The sleepy polar bear's birthday celebrations would span three days, though not in their entirety:

• An impromptu Pistachio Cake;
• Low-key local activities; and
• A day out attempting new ventures

Extensive consideration had been summoned to optimize logistics over the long weekend. Prior research was critical, as Easter seems to be the only time of back-to-back closures.

Before delving into the agenda, I requested quick detours of McDonald's and T&T. The Strawberry Passionfruit and Peach Mango Fruit Splash Beverages were obtained for my sampling. The former started off sweet, then transitioned into tanginess, while the latter was relatively mild at first sip, then gradually grew sweeter. Both were refreshing, accessible picks for the upcoming spring/summer seasons.

As for T&T, I had suggested going together for simplicity sake. And thank goodness I had, for the parking lot was utter mayhem and only by splitting up could the task at hand be completed in a timely manner. 排包 - with and without raisins - and a singular Pineapple Bun were acquired during this stop. In hindsight, I should have reduced my consumption of Chinese bakery items prior to our pending Markham trip. The mere thought of bread over the next few days had my stomach churning.

​The Death Note room at TRAPPED had initially been proposed for our four-person gathering last month, but then eliminated on the account of one member having already completed it. The opportunity to try it arose again when I learned that the minimum player count was two. As the franchise also offered free admission within three days of one's birthday, it emerged as the ideal neighbourhood activity.

Located in a private lot just minutes from the Woodchester auto area (and my trusted CoCo location), TRAPPED was extremely easy to find with its large logo and bold lettering. One of the few establishments in open on Good Friday, the location was positively bustling.

We arrived just five minutes before our 4:30 PM booking, which granted just enough time for bathroom usage and transferring personal items into lockers. Then, we were quickly given a rundown of the room by one of the Game Masters; beyond effective walkie talkie usage, we were also informed of search protocols (ie. no clues under ceiling panels, no moving of objects labelled "Out of Bounds", etc.). "A complete success" was determined if no more than two hints were requested, but the group could request as many as needed.

The Death Note room was decorated to resemble a high schooler's bedroom. A desk and bookshelf were positioned along one wall, the bed in the centre, and a chair in the corner. Light Yagami's uniform was hung on the wall beside the door. A brief audio recording would be played upon entering - at a relatively low volume, if I must add. It provided an overview of the Death Note storyline for those unfamiliar with the story, though didn't contribute to any search for hints. 

The sleepy polar bear and I quickly split up to cover the room. I was first to discover a laminated flash card underneath the pillow, while the sleepy polar bear found another in the school bag on the chair. A third was found in the pocket of the uniform. Sandwiched underneath a glass panel on the desk were several diary entries, likely handwritten by staff. One of these pages led to clues on the bookshelf, while another would provide the password to the laptop on the desk (as we later learned). In the drawers, we found a small chest containing the key to escape, and a Death Note replica in a hidden compartment within the same drawer.

After some further perusal (and use of our first hint request), the sleepy polar bear discovered entry to a small room: an unlit, makeshift lair with an outline of Ryuk as tall as the ceiling. From there, we would utilize clues found in the main room to unlock a wooden safe; a briefcase with the initials "R.P" was found.

Our second hint request led us to the password of the laptop. From there, we found FBI profiles - one of which corresponded to the owner of the locked briefcase. "The password are digits that hold meaning to the inspector." we were told. Trying the three-digit agent number and birthday ended in vain. Thinking fast, I resorted to the Family Profile section, and found the name of the agent's fiancée, a former FBI agent.

At this point, I was slightly perplexed. In the tattered Death Note we had uncovered, the fiancée had supposedly died in 2004 due to suicide. However, the FBI profile indicated that the woman was engaged as of 2006. The timelines did not align. After some debate, the sleepy polar bear reminded me that "most people can't read Japanese. I don't think they expect players to read the non-English content." - which was a valid point. Instead of pursuing the contents of the notebook further, I changed course and searched for the fiancée's FBI profile instead, and was met with success.

The sleepy polar bear assisted in making the abstract connections between a colour grid and number lock pad, and again with switching modes on a flashlight for UV light. Before we knew it, we had completed the room with three hints and escaped with four minutes to spare.

The activity terminated pretty quickly from that point. We were congratulated, then ushered to the front for an optional but rightfully deserved "Success" photo by the Death Note canvas in the waiting area. As full payment had been received at the time of deposit, there weren't any outstanding issues to tend to. The staff merely returned to their posts as Game Master(s) or front desk attendants. Unlike Escape the House, TRAPPED was very timely. Our session concluded exactly one hour follwing entry into the space.

With a third escape room experience under my belt, I can confidently conclude the following:

1. If a clue has been used already, it is 75% safe to dismiss on move onto a different item instead of re-inspecting it
2. Clues adopting similar appearances are likely linked
3. Capitalization is sometimes intentional; colours and filters (3D glasses, UV light, etc.) are usually intentional
4. Pay attention to the Game Master's pre-game briefings, as they sometimes contain hints

​All factors considered, the Death Note room was a splendid experience. Albeit costly for just sixty minutes of activity, I appreciated how the game brought the storyline to the 3D realm and enabled even two-player teams to partake as investigators. With particular regard to the sleepy polar bear and I, the activity fostered teamwork, combining our respective strengths in connecting abstract and physical indicators.

​With roughly ninety minutes remaining till our dinner reservation, I proposed exploration of the nearby LCBO. Upon pulling into the empty plaza though, it dawned upon me: Today was a statutory holiday.

Fast food establishments remained open, which spurred a sudden desire to sample Wendy's new French Toast Sticks.

​The interior of the facility reeked of grease, which urged an exit as speedy as my entry. Fortunately, the queue at the cashier was nonexistent, and my four-pack of non-uniformly-sized French Toast Sticks was delivered in under five minutes.

​Four pieces had set me back a total of $4.96 after tax. A six-pack option was also available, though I erred on the side of caution should the carby strips fail to deliver. 

We took the bag and its piping hot contents to the nearby park for consumption, wafting its deliciously eggy aromas for the duration of the five-minute drive.

"Is there syrup?" The sleepy polar bear peered over, ravenous from suppressing appetite in preparation for dinner. "Can I take a bite?"
"I'm not sure." Shifting the paper carton slightly, a small container of Kraft Table Syrup came into view. "Yes, there is."
"Oh. Then let's wait."
"Well, we should wait regardless because it's too hot and will probably scald you." I retorted in response.

​The park was relatively empty, in spite of ample sunshine and blue skies. After plopping down at the half-table, we learned why: It was ridiculously chilly (and windy!) in the shade. Equipped with plastic forks, we speared one stick each then wedged it into the syrup container.
They were surprisingly delectable - a pleasant surprise indeed! Crisp edges, distinctiveness egginess, and a viscous, caramel-like syrup devoid of synthetic aftertaste justified the all-day snack's price point. Of course, at about $5 for a mere slice of non-uniformly quartered bread, it was pricier than crafting in-house. That said, the item successfully quenched the French Toast fix at a fraction of the time and cost of a good brioche, carton of eggs, and syrup. Not to mention, one could enjoy the treat at any time of the day (looking at you, McD's Hash Browns) without suffering greasy fumes. A dusting of icing sugar would have been the icing on the cake.

​Around the 6:10 PM mark, when it was deemed that there were no further destinations open for exploration, I opted to call our dinner spot to confirm whether an early arrival would be honoured. The lady on the other end confirmed availability of tables, thus we zipped to Heartland to appease the sleepy polar bear's unstoppable appetite. 

​The Keg hadn't been my suggestion, obviously, but those with birthdays earn "chance cards".

Admittedly, the interior was nicer than I had pictured, with a tall ceiling entryway and absolute absence of greasy fumes in the air. Having the bathrooms situated directly by the entrance was an odd design choice, however.
The host/hostess crew had gathered behind the reception area, for customers were few and the restaurant "slow". Between the lounge area and dining corridor, my pick had resided with the brighter, open space of the lounge. In contrast, the sleepy polar bear voted in favour of the dining area, on the account that a dimmer atmosphere conjured a cozy ambience. The choice would result in grainier photos, but provided comfort and privacy in a dedicated booth.

​Bread was served shortly after placing our orders. A thick crusted mound with a porous yet dense interior, the starter was not my cup of tea. In contrast, the piped garlic butter was quite nice. The sleepy polar bear, consumed by gluttony, reached for wedge after wedge, dismissing my warnings against becoming too full too quickly.

Glasses of cold and warm water were delivered as well, both garnished with a sizable wedge of lemon and black paper straw that, impressively, did not disintegrate over the course of the meal. Wine glasses were swiftly removed from the table after I placed my order of Freixenet. Originally debating between a glass of Inniskillin or another variation of sparkling wine, I turned to the waitress for profile notes.
"It's a champagne." She responded plainly, as if all sparkling wines could be classified as champagne and flavour profiles were identical across the board. When I pressed for more qualitative descriptions of the Freixenet and Mionetto, she ventured over to the bar. Along with two patrons, seemingly regulars or acquaintances of the staff, they begun to ID the drinks through the World Wide Web. It was confirmed in this moment that The Keg was the destination for in-depth alcohol appreciation, but rather a place where wine happens to be present for steak pairings. I ultimately took to the Freixenet, which turnen out to be a teensy 200 ml bottle that I recall purchasing on a whim when I first became of legal age.

I proposed an appetizer to start. Escargot was selected after learning that the sleepy polar bear had only ever tried blanched snails. The image of a slimy protein source came to mind, and I resisted my imagination from colouring in further sensory details. The Keg's presentation of Escargot was not far off from other eateries, in that the mini mollusks were baked with mushrooms and served in a shallow ceramic dish with circular depressions. The dish was accompanied by another wedge of lemon and a small toasted bread roll.

Compiled into a unit, the snails had been de-shelled and affixed to mushroom tops, then baked for a crispy top. The morsels were an airy starter, and I appreciated that they hadn't been coated excessively in breadcrumbs for sustenance. More than snails themselves though, both of us found greater enjoyment in the flakey, sweet brioche that arrived alongside. There was tremendous excitement in peeling tearing apart the well-toasted specimen and dipping section into the escargot sauce, which was herbaceous, citrusy (even without the squeeze of lemon), and slightly savoury. In fact, the cooking juices was more decadent than the escargot itself, despite the shrooms and snails being a timeless pairing.

​Our entrées arrived shortly afterwards: a 14 oz. Prime Rib for the sleepy polar bear and the Sirloin Oscar for myself.

Frankly, the Prime Rib had been the motivation behind our dinner choice of The Keg. Having praised the tenderness of the steakhouse's Prime Rib time and time again, the brilliant pink cut had been an obvious pick. Lengthier than it was thick, the slab appeared identical to the cuts I used to request at Mandarin in my childhood years. Forty-three dollars earned a side of fries, fried onions, horseradish, and a "red wine herb jus". The contents of the included pitcher were, admittedly, thinner than desired, causing the fries to become soggy once poured on top; in response, the sleepy polar bear knowingly requested a whisky peppercorn sauce for an additional two dollars. This was comparatively tastier than the red wine herb jus, yet not entirely dissimilar to the gravy of Swanson TV dinners.

​The consensus lay with the Prime Rib being a tender cut of meat, albeit on the blander side. Fries were constructed of skin-on potatoes, much to my glee, and presented themselves crunchy and delicious (disparate from the likes of the adjacent fried onions). Out of curiosity, I obtained a small forkful of horseradish for sampling, then scrunched my face as its pungency travelled from the mouth to the nose. When questioned for my decision, I defended myself that the visually pulpy appearance had somehow implied a sauerkraut consistency. "It's like wasabi!" I was informed.
"Ah yes, wasabi is a type of horseradish after all." I recalled audibly.

​My go-to of Filet Mignon was foregoed for experimentation purposes: the Sirloin Oscar had caught my attention by offering both beef and seafood in the same dish, as well as pairing the proteins with a creamy Béarnaise sauce instead of a classic gravy.

Although I had my reservations towards dressing an already flavour-rich dish with creaminess, the Béarnaise had been ladled atop in moderation, primarily cascading down over the seafood components without overwhelming the 8 oz. round underneath. It contributed a welcome butteriness without being excessively rich or satiating. Small bites of shrimp and scallop were arranged around and on top of the sirloin; they may have been of a smaller size than anticipated, but satisfied the craving for seafood nonetheless.

Requested at a Medium Rare degree of doneness, the Sirloin was a vibrant magenta throughout, with its surface adequately salted and crisp. Certain sections were slightly tough, though there was no discard resulting from the consumption process.

The side of fresh veggies comprised of nicely charred zucchini, asparagus, mushrooms, sweet red peppers, and blistered cherry tomatoes. Often, my biggest fear for vegetables extends to extreme softness (loss of structural integrity), extreme saltiness, or being laden with oil. Thankfully, none of these woes came true - The Keg had executed a fantastic job in terms of seasoning, charring, and variety.

Bathrooms, as mentioned earlier, were situated near the double-door entrance, next to the hostess table. Pristine and stocked satisfactorily with toiletries, the facilities alluded an upscale vibe, almost implying that I was underdressed for the occasion in my Keep Spinning t-shirt and fleece-lined joggers.

​I succeeded in depleting half of my order - a grand feat, even if I do say so myself! The sleepy polar bear had severely overestimated levels of famine, thus concluded the meal with immense sluggishness.

"I ate too much bread!" was overheard from across the table. Dessert, when proposed by the waitress, was instantly denied, much to my amusement.

The day's events finished with two quick rounds of Codenames, in which two Meltkiss-es were devoured by yours truly.

What can I say? I saved room for dessert.