Out & About #919 | Escape Manor + Musoshin Ramen

Fridays are for easing into the weekend, or at least making the appropriate arrangements for outstanding chores and errands.

When an in-office presence was mandated, I was only moderately annoyed though, for training days are shorter in duration and routinely provide complimentary breakfast and lunch.

​Prior to these sessions, which commence at 9 AM instead of my usual 8 AM start time, I am granted the opportunity to explore Union Station briefly, unrestrained by the incredulous commuter traffic and tourist volumes of the afternoon hours.

​I found Kibo Market now open within Union Market, situated in the connecting corridor between the York and Bay Concourse levels. Lining the shelves were instant noodles, various sweet and savoury chips, and even soy milk daifuku. Individually packaged ice cream bars and sandwiches were a splendid find, though I had my reservations towards large bags of frozen Honey Butter Chips.

​Beaming and brilliant were the skies above my head. Precipitation hadn't assumed a part in the day's weather forecast, however climbing temperatures were inevitable.

A muffin duo of Lemon Cranberry and Double Chocolate were secured from the refreshments table upon my arrival. Having already consumed a morning meal of coffee and banana bread at home, the two were swiftly wrapped in plastic wrap, placed into a rigid plastic container, and slid into the depths of my backpack for later munching if needed.
The frugal gesture, while earning me a bewildered gaze from my table mates, would prevent potential impromptu purchases of mid-afternoon snacks for fuel.

​Around the 12:30 PM mark, lunch was served: Roast Beef and Ham & Cheese Sandwiches (this time with softer ciabatta buns!) and Chicken and Veggie Wraps, followed by fresh fruit platters. Dashing to the table for photos and first dibs, I succeeded in snatching two slices of dragonfruit before they vanished, or slid onto the serving table of questionable cleanliness.

A member of the division had also graciously sponsored mini cupcakes and an assorted baklava tray to share! I plucked two pieces of the flaky, nutty morsels from the platter, then returned for a second round of sampling. My first sesame-topped square was quite delicious. The adjacent date-containing square of denseness was comparably less so, due to its obnoxious sweetness. Subsequent pieces comprised of phyllo pastry, pistachios, and more nuts were equally syrupy, yet likely delicious in smaller portions. Impressively fragrant were the nuts encased within, and exceptionally textured were pastry components. Sparking intrigue was the Ballourieh Baklava, particularly for its string, syrup-soaked kataifi dough. The Borma (Burma?) Baklava was next, due to its crispy casing and complex, roasted blend of pistachio and other nuts. In last places was the date-containing Basma, of which half was consumed and the other half discarded.

The Middle Eastern treats grew progressively sweeter with each bite, until I could withstand their cloying properties no more. Across the table, an older member of staff advised the treats to be consumed alongside Ceylon tea for the most enjoyable experience.

Around the 3 PM mark, the group accepted my post-training proposal of The Rec Room.

Venturing through the now-tourist-infested CN Tower grounds as I had for my 1776-step climb in April, we arrived at the arcade in a matter of ten minutes.

​Over half of the group headed straight towards the restaurant portion of the facility, leaving just three at the entertainment counter. It was a disappointing scene to witness, for the primary purpose of visiting a hybrid establishment was to maximize all its features.

Naturally, I wouldn't take part in the stationary social activity and instead entertained myself at Grand Piano Keys, Kung-Fu Panda, and, of course, Pump It Up! Towards the end of my stay, I had even been invited to partake in another PIU player's set. He had observed an earlier run with a coworker, then offered to chose songs for me on the basis that I was "good at twists". We veered away from my familiar K-Pop tracks, entering into the realm of heart-pumping EDM and J-Pop. My limits were truly tested.

​Team-building by way of an escape room visit had been my idea. Beyond purely enjoying the activity itself, the event was intended to foster collaboration, to understand a foreign environment, and conquer the task at hand within the given timeframe. Our original booking at Escape Manor had been for seven attendees, though was later increased to the maximum count of ten due to interest.

​The facility was quite new, and also quite grand in appearance. Embellished with elements of the Medieval fantasy genre, the Manor was unlike any other escape room I had visited. Ambient lighting, crimson curtains, stone walls, caged chandeliers, and wooden surfaces - both lacquered and unlacquered - succeeded in leaving a lasting impression.

Extensive research had been conducted prior to the booking. These results had informed me of Escape Manor's various offerings, ranging from axe throwing to escape rooms to an alcohol-licensed gathering space. Housed on the ground floor was a check-in area, bar, and ample tables for socialization. Escape rooms were located at the basement level, while the second floor reserved for private parties. The location of the axe throwing spaces remain unknown to me.

​The group had been seated at one of the many tables while the remaining members trickled in and completed their waivers by the front desk. In the meantime, a handful of our party had taken to a second round of drinks: bottled Coors for one and a coppery-toned Muskoka Cream Ale for another. Shortly afterwards, a member of staff would guide us down the flight of carpeted stairs. To our shock, no on-site lockers were offered.
"You will take your belongings with you into the room." We were informed. "You can use your phones, but we do ask that you do not try to solve the room using your phones." Any alcoholic beverages would also be taken into the room.
The staff continued with her explanation before handing us off to the Game Master, noting our fifty-minute time limit, unlimited provision of hints, and that walkie-talkies would be distributed to all staff, requiring us to state our room name before posing any questions. At the end of her speech, we received surprising information: "You can also use your walkie-talkie to order more drinks, if you like.", causing my neighbour and I to turn towards each other with widened eyes.

​Wine Cellar had been our - or rather, my - chosen escape experience. Other rooms were apparently horror-themed, but Wine Cellar combined winery elements with a murder mystery. The room had been decorated to mimic a winery: artificial grapes, framed images of fields, and a wall lined with barrels. Starkly dim, many of us were left with no choice than to resort to phone flashlights to decipher our surroundings.

The group progressed with notable speed, some commencing systematically from the collection of clues and others merely hovering about, interacting with the space on their own accord. Already evident was the spectrum of personalities and problem-solving skills in play. Surely enough, we soon solved enough riddles to unlock entry into a second room by way of a rotating wall of barrels. This room was smaller and adopted the format of an office with a fireplace. By connecting clues from the first room and matching wine flavour profiles to cue cards, a wide-rimmed chalice and metal revolving handle was uncovered.
Upon placing the chalice in its designated slot, a cabinet swung open, exposing a compartment for the handle. Attaching the apparatus (and rotating in the correct direction) would cause the fireplace to swing backwards, enabling entry into a mechanical room with piping, gauges, and artificial blood stains. Again, clues and riddles from the first and second rooms would be utilized to obtain the "evidence" needed to escape.

By 6:30 PM, we had solved them all! The experience had commenced with some tardiness, but the group had collectively managed to solve the entire slew of puzzles with time to spare. The storyline and concept were great, the puzzles were fun, and the connecting room design was spectacular. Interestingly, the word locks had used real words for their answer, rather than scrambled letters as Escape The House had done.

Escape room visits were priced based on time of entry: $33 for the off-peak slots (5 PM, 10 PM, or 11 PM) and $36 for peak (6 PM - 9 PM). At the lower price point, I would deem the venture utterly worthwhile, for less extravagant venues would ring in around the same price in the suburbs.

Washrooms were situated on the main floor at the back of the facility. The individual stalls were spotless at the early hour, and even included gold gargoyles - the amicable kind - as toilet paper holder accessories.

​Following the event, patrons had the option of extending their visit by taking to the various board games on the shelf and/or investing in shareable platters for sustenance.

The vast majority of our party began to disperse by this point, mostly retreating home for rest and relaxation. I would also excuse myself for evening plans with the sleepy polar bear acting as  ̶c̶h̶a̶u̶f̶f̶e̶u̶r̶ ̶s̶e̶r̶v̶i̶c̶e̶s̶  consolation from non-express, homebound GO trains.

My treats were received later in the evening, when she eventually awoke from a late-afternoon snooze spanning just short of four hours. Thai tea leaves, BLACKPINK edition OREOs, spicy octopus snacks, and a pouch from Chiang Mai bearing a silver elephant were presented to me in a Gong Cha paper bag.

The area immediately outside the Thai ahgase's rental abode was dismal at best. Overbearing shadiness led us to exit the premises within minutes of strolling. When faced with an unresolved supper decision, I took to the option most likely to be well received by the sleepy polar bear: Japanese cuisine. After all, the quicker the acceptance, the sooner hunger is appeased.

An inclination towards ramen landed us on Roncesvalles - "Roncy" for the locals - at the split where Dundas Street evolved from north-south to east-west. Boustead Avenue operated as a one-way street with parking on the north side during winter months and parking on the south side during summer. The sleepy polar bear's parallel parking maneuvers remain excruciating to observe from the passenger seat. By the time I had stepped back onto the street, hunger-fueled aggravations had only spiked.

Musoshin had availability within when we arrived, but the fumy-ness was atrocious. Instead of the stuffy, grease-filled interior, I requested a patio seat and was willing to wait for one of three tables to clear up. One table had already asked for the bill, while another was slurping up the final strands of noodle in her bowl. The server estimated an approximate ten-minute wait, to which we obliged and settled for reviewing the menu posted on the window.

When one table began to vacate, a couple who were strolling by immediately slid into the spot, German Shepherd in tow. "Excuse me." I caught the staff member at the first opportunity. "I thought we were first."
"They were first." He responded, without any furter clarification. My assumption was that the couple had swung by earlier, realized a dog-friendly patio, then returned with their beloved noisemaker.

The next table was ours. Even before being seated, I noted our orders to the server, who, miraculously, repeated it back for confirmation without error. He then made at least two more trips before stopping by our table again, one of which was to retrieve a water bowl for the showy couple's dog.
"The dog comes first." commented the sleepy polar bear needlessly. It goes without saying that I was none too pleased. Of course, one could only fathom my continued displeasure at the proposal of sharing a bowl of ramen.
"Why?!" I retorted, "Because our tastes are different, you can hog the bowl out of hanger, and then complain that I ate the toppings?! I will have my own."

Our selection would include an appetizer of Karaage and two bowls of ramen, inclusive of add-ons to my liking.

​I would also take to a compact can of Ochame Green Tea IPA from Godspeed Brewery, the ramen house's beer partner. Laced with mild hints of zen-evoking green tea, the profile was light and refreshing, and notably less bitter than typical IPAs.

Water glasses and a plate of five Karaage pieces would arrive first. The beautifully battered specimens were arranged on a small mount of shredded cabbage; adjacent was a single wedge of lemon and decent-sized dollop of mayonnaise. Fingers urgently reaching for the citrus segment, "Can I squeeze the lemon?" was overheard from my right. The sleepy polar bear had always disregarded my advice to sample the unaltered product before adding sauces.​

​Boasting impeccably crispy skin and wonderfully tender flesh, the Karaage was indeed elevated with zesty dribble of lemon. Furthermore, the portion of non-spicy mayo was adequate, for too many condiments would hinder the creation's original flavours from shining.

​The Ajitama Musoshin Ramen was tastier than expected. Its broth, supposedly constructed of both pork and vegetables, was flavourful without the excessive richness often identified in Kinton's variations. Menma, more commonly referred to as seasoned bamboo shoots, was a delightful, umami-packed addition. Of course, the ajitama was executed perfectly: gooey, golden yolkiness at its centre and well-seasoned throughout.

My own pick of the Kyoto White Miso Vegan Ramen had stemmed from a desire for a milky broth, yet one devoid of the heaviness and sodium levels of slow-simmered pork bones. Kelp and shiitake dashi were combined with Kyoto white miso to yield a gratifying base of uniqueness: at first, it was indescribable, distinctly unlike any other ramen broth in our existing flavour dictionary. Subsequent spoonfuls led me to conclude Cream of Mushroom-like qualities, despite the obvious absence of finely chopped Portobello (or cremini/button). Floated on the surface were wispy shards of deep-fried lotus and sweet potato; the upper segments snapped with ease, while the bottoms had grown sodden due to partial immersion, exposing oily essences which remained even after draining. Spinach, softened slivers of red peppers, julienned carrots, and a single pod of okra constituted the bowl's other constituents. I enthusiastically munched on them all, with especial appreciation towards the okra's reduction in customary waxiness.

Nestled underneath the veggies were four slices of cha-shu, which had been appended to the order for an additional toonie to satisfy iron needs.

"The pork is smoky!" exclaimed the sleepy polar bear, whose bowl also contained cha-shu. I could concur with this declaration: the charred edges of the slices were excellent, as was their supple, buttery undersides.

Both the Ajitama Musoshin Ramen and Kyoto White Miso Vegan Ramen were priced at 17.80 each.

Even prior to requesting our mains, I had voiced intent to request the Houjicha Affogato to finish.

The eight-dollar dessert was presented in the form of three scoops of vanilla ice cream and a sakura-shaped dish of houjicha concentrate. Adopting a looser consistency than anticipated, the carob-coloured fluid was distributed over the ice cream in a rather hurried manner to control spillage. The formula settled into the ripples, making for a striking, two-toned visual.

​It was scrumptious, of course. My squoval metal spoon moved quickly. The pairing was absolutely innovative: Never would I have envisioned a sweet-toasty contrast to mix so magnificently!

Service levels had also improved over the course of our stay, with the server being very prompt with our requests. At least four more staff members were spotted within the restaurant, working quickly in a small prep area with a dishwasher open at all times.

​Unisex bathrooms were situated at the bottom of a narrow, steep stairwell. The steps appeared questionable in terms of structural integrity, but the interior of stall was, surprisingly, very clean, despite emitting a faint hint of mustiness.

Towards the end of our stay, I meandered over to the wall of Momo Tea products, then swiftly snatched the last bag of Matsu. The matcha variety is now priced at twenty dollars - an increase of two dollars from pre-pandemic prices.

Afterwards, we roamed the stretch of Roncesvalles until hitting High Park Blvd.

The Thai ahgase, who had yet to contemplate dinner until after her lengthy nap, was encouraged to place a takeout order while we browsed. Timing would be swell, for the termination of our trek would coincide with the pick-up time. Through this experience, we learned that Musoshin's website supported online orders and payments via Clover.

​At the late hour of 10 PM, we would depart from Toronto. The Alley would assume our final stop of the day.

Newly launched were the chain's Mango and Peach Frappés, both topped with a brown sugar cream cap depicting Pom Pom Purin with antler ears.

As a fellow bubble tea enthusiast had described, the Mango Frappé was slightly tart with noticeable chunks of mango. On the other hand, the Peach Frappé was sweeter, yet more delectable, and unmistakably "peachy".

​The opinions of the sleepy polar bear and I diverged once again, with my preference for Peach being obvious from the first sip.