We may have looked a little like the Adams Family whilst brunching, what with the giant squid monster decor and all, but it was later at dinner, at a neighbourhood Korean restaurant that we really felt uneasy.
It was great to nosh with our west coast friends and poke through some consignment stores, post-noshery. Sadly, it was far too brief a visit. The spousal unit and I had a hockey game to get to.
The Junior A game, held at the old arena out in the PNE grounds, was jam-packed with elementary school kids, each determined to wallop their noisemaker louder and more vigourously than the next. It was a fun game, and we enjoyed the between period entertainment, including the remote control airplane that dropped Subway coupons into the crowd, causing audience members to lose their shit.
The Spousal Unit and I were on our own for dinner, and we decided on the restaurant second closest in proximity to our abode. The Korean restaurant, which is a mere 94 steps from the hotel (I counted), is one that we have passed countless times, but for some reason never thought to stop in. I blame the embarrassment of eateries within a few short blocks. You can only eat so many times in one day, after all.
Only half a block from the Greek restaurant that has nothing but a couple of water-logged blue tarps separating the roof from the sky, is said Korean restaurant that from outside looks like a typical tiny takeout place. Surprisingly, there are actually eight full-sized booths inside, each separated from the others by a blaze orange tarp, artfully pinned back and made private with low hanging tarp pieces.
It's a little startling when you first walk in. All those pristine tarps pulled tightly and just so filled the entire room with an eerie orange glow. It felt very much like one of Dexter's kill scenes. The food was good though. Better than you would expect from a serial killer's lair.