Read Part 1 HERE !

​Exiting the doors of Little Pebbles, humidity rudely made an aggravated appearance on us. The anticipated thunderstorm was still nowhere in sight as we marched up along Spadina. Having decided to make the grueling trip across College on the streetcar, we ought to have been thankful that congestion was minimum and a refreshing breeze could be felt while on route. Towards the end of our ride, we switched to the detour bus on Gerrard, and continued until the Halloween-toned signage flashed by our eyes, peered out from the other side of bus and its grimy glory.

A hybrid ice cream shop and snack store, Wong's was essentially empty at our time of arrival. As the two customers before us wrapped up their order, the lady behind the counter offered to provide us with samples. As it felt demanding to request trials of all nine options, I held back initially but grew continually curious with each wooden spoon delivered to our hands.

Their flagship flavour of Black Sesame with Salted Duck Egg, which was also referred to as "Black Tiger", is the unpredictable marriage of nutty black sesame and a savoury Chinese preserved condiment. Charcoal in colour with bits of vivid yellow peeking through, the sweet-savoury combination took classic Black Sesame for a spin by adding mooncake-like elements; the fine chunks of duck egg were chewy and a tad sticky, somewhat like seasoned mochi. The manner in which Wong's invented the formula took me by surprise: pairing two already renowned East Asian flavours yielded a stunning new product.
Both occhung and I also agreed that the bestseller was a steal for the ratio of duck egg to ice cream.

​Amongst their vegan flavours were: Orange Candied Ginger, Coconut Mango Sticky Rice, and Lemongrass Lime Sorbet. The first was pale and creamy - it was sweet, but without noticeable traces of orange and only a shy aftertaste of ginger.
Coconut Mango Sticky Rice comprised of all the essential elements of the tropical dessert that inspiration had been derived from. Packed with creamy coconut goodness and dollops of mango syrup, it was the closest attempt to the real deal, minus the actual sticky rice. While we had been informed that bits of sticky rice had, in fact, been introduced to the mixture, I honestly could not perceive it in the slightest.
Lemongrass Lime Sorbet was an undeniably refreshing choice with a strong base of citrus. Unfortunately, the heavy dosage of sugar rendered the flavour less invigorating than it could have been

​Used throughout Filipino cuisine (and especially Halo Halo), Ube is a purple sweet potato that Toronto locals and tourists alike cannot seem to stop loving. Wong's prides themselves in abstaining from artificial colour dyes, which caused their formula to emerge with a cool blue undertone as opposed to the warm pink roots of other establishments riding the trend. This particular spoonful seemed a bit bland in my eyes, though perhaps I was subconsciously making a comparison to Quiapo! Quiapo!'s robust version before closure.

There are many that build alliances and relationships over similar interests and common ground - like a certain acquaintance of mine that can never seem to remember my birthday and rules out anyone who doesn't share his love for anime.
I do not necessarily find the same demand for joint perspectives, because, as ochungg pointed out, there hasn't ever been an instance of agreement between us in our fitful discussions (er spam sessions) of K-idols and preferred music styles. Nonetheless, we've bonded over good sustenance and zealous mukbang excursions. (Seriously, I love ochungg, even her not-so-discreet, extra-judgmental eye-rolling.)

​We happened to have chanced by Hibiscus on their single day of inoperation last time, so I suggested missioning to Kensington once more to try out their vegetarian fare. In preparation for the impending thunderstorm, I arrived equipped with boots, an umbrella, and an excess of plastic bags. Alas, the ominous forecast had been replaced with blinding rays of ultraviolet and unbearably muggy conditions.

​Courtesy of TTC's poorly trained staff, I found myself abruptly abandoned on the 510 when the insolent driver decided to park (yes, park) a fully-loaded vehicle of passengers, hop off to chat with another good-for-nothing worker of the corporation, and indulge in a leisurely smoke break. The disgusting actions were of utmost irresponsibility, utter disrespect to the entities on board, and complete disconcern for the safety and individual schedules of the passengers he had vowed to transport in a secure and timely manner.

And of course, the TTC staff in their air-conditioned headquarters could not care less about this situation, merely stating that "breaks were permitted". It wasn't until all patience had been lost that I, along with a few others, disembarked the vehicle I had grudgingly relinquished fare payment towards and walked 600 metres that the vehicle whipped by me without a shred of shame.

​Needless to say, I was significantly delayed for my brunch appointment. Oops, I meant to say "lunch", for the turmoil has resulted in a total delay of thirty minutes. What ridicule.

​At Hibiscus, the patio was open and the umbrellas were erected. Oddly enough, the interior was stuffier than the outside environment, even with the large fans circulating the air above the table.

ochungg had secured a table near the entrance and gladly welcomed me despite my TTC-induced lateness. With less than one minute having passed though, she urged to me to place an order, whispering that the waitstaff had cast glares and nasty looks at her in the time frame she had been seated.
These actions were offensive enough to hear, let alone experience first-hand. The lunch rush had yet to hit anyways. I'll take my time settling in, thank you very much.

View the full album HERE !

​The gluten-free cafe comprised of extremely compact seating: tables were situated within two feet of each other or less, causing noise levels to soar once at full capacity. Tiny were the lacquered wooden tables and rigid were the chairs. Its furnishings displayed years' worth of not-so-tender loving care, so the contrast witnessed in the cleanliness of the bathroom stalls was refreshing. The two unisex stalls were equally cramped, though somehow managed to fit all the necessary toiletries and apparatus within the same space. Facilities weren't as ancient as I expected and dust bunnies were essentially nonexistent. The door was a tad rickety, but this was easily dismissed as the lock was functional.

​Restaurants entailed in the prohibition of brunch reservations ought to be obliterated from modern society. In a world where groceries can be obtained via smartphone applications and the chemical composition of most food items can be mindlessly derived with the click of a handheld mouse, eateries should be complying with the times and undertaking their due responsibility to create a system of dining that is both pleasurable and efficient.

​A consistently high popularity ranking is, by all means, favourable for a dining spot located amongst thousands of other options in a metropolitan city. However, does management even consider the potential legions of customers that could experience their fare should a functioning reservation policy be installed?
Mildred's Temple Kitchen, Liberty Village's ever-hyped brunch spot, makes exceptions for "B'Lunches" on weekdays and weekdays only. One would think that weekdays are generally lax to begin with, and that specifications could easily be attended to, however this is oddly never the case in Toronto.

I secured the reservation, then routed the itinerary; it was supposed to be a sunny day filled with sunshine and iced beverages. Alas, overriding the originally tropical temperatures was a heavy downpour that caused the skies to sadden to a dreary blue-grey. The fact that my train had been delayed clearly was not sufficient in distributing misery to a damp, early morning, for my entire trek towards the restaurant consisted primarily of muggy cigarette fumes and closely avoiding contact with a vehicle whose driver had complete disregard for stop signs. (Do the people behind you a favour - don't smoke in the rain please. Though some may enjoy saturating their respiratory organs with ashes, I'd like to refrain from inhaling nasty, second-hand air particles of condensed grit. Thanks a bunch.)

​orangecane had arrived first, seeing as transit delays had caused a drop in punctuality rating. Conversing with the same haughty hostess as before, I found her seated towards the back of the eatery, her back towards the tall windows lining the perimeter of the establishment. Our very compact table, as well as that of our neighbours, each consisted of seating in the form of booths as well as plastic-like chairs. Perspectives from the booths were brighter, roomier, and more vibrant, though it was questionable how often they were subject to thorough hygeinic processes. Several homey cushions managed to camouflage some of the wear, though spotty patches prevailed in the exposed areas.

​My seat was wide, but on the smaller side for storing my two bags plus rainjacket (plus dripping umbrella). It took me a while to arrange my belongings in such a manner that no element would accidentally fall through the hole in the back. Prior to that though, it was necessary to clear off crumbs left from the previous diner(s), seeing as no one else had bothered.
Our server was a jolly man with a thick European accent that I couldn't quite distinguish. He was the only one of hundreds that suggested I ease myself into dining mode before returning with an introduction of the menu. The entire floor consisted of at least four other members of waitstaff, but many expressed reluctance to even debut a shy smile.

​First impressions of the environment were largely positive: the interior consisted of high ceiling and varying light fixtures, bar seating in addition to ground-level group tables, and a cohesive beige-copper colour scheme.
The washrooms were of great interest to me, seeing that adjacent sections had been executed quite nicely. Four individual stalls and one handicap stall could found inside a short hallway. Each was spacious, equipped with the necessary toiletries, and illuminated by a soft glow situated behind a dark panel.
My one quibble was that airplane notifications were played overhead as opposed to mellow tunes. On one hand, it allowed patrons to conjure up the image of travelling to a new destination with each visit. For constant boarders of domestic aircrafts such as myself, I writhed in discomfort at the opening notes of Air Canada's flight safety demonstration. The entire sequence was headache-inducing for me, since there is nothing more loathesome than Air Canada and their wretched, lowlife crew.

View the full album HERE !

​Glancing over the menu once more, our server re-appeared with a smile as he saw me half-perched on the edge of my seat ("half" because my baggage had consumed the remaining space). He provided descriptions of a select few b'lunch items, noting that their famous pancakes could also be requested in single portions at six dollars apiece.
Food and drink selections were categorized with clarity on the two-sided menu. Encased in hard plastic, the sheet exhibited edge cracks that had propagated over time, eventually becoming a hazard to young children.

​I have a habit of repeatedly subjecting myself to activity levels at polar ends of the spectrum: my house hermit days will sedentary and consist of backlog review/catching up on K-Pop news, while my extrovert occasions involve excessive walking and overloading my feeble limbs with items that far exceed my strength capabilities. It's regrettable that the compromise has yet to be reached.

Another similar situation arose when I was informed of my impromptu extended long weekend. I set out on a mission to refamiliarize myself with the downtown core and uncover the mysteries hidden within the IKEA Play Cafe situated at Queen and Spadina.
Sadly, the cafe had concluded its final day's operations on the evening that the suggestion was proposed to feedthebear. Either way, our lunch plans remained unbroken.

​I made a speedy trip to the Eaton Centre to run a few errands - namely verifying whether the UNIQLO location carried the Disney t-shirt I had spotted previously (spoiler: they didn't) and checking up on Sulley inventory.

Current Sulley count: 2; actually, minus one for the adorable fluffball that found a giddy owner while I stood beside it.

An analysis was performed on the countless eateries surrounding Dundas/University, with the final contenders being Gyugyuya and Manpuku. Ultimately, we chose the casual Japanese canteen inside Village by the Grange.

I seem to recall a time where I had wished to visit Manpuku, though the excursion was later banished for some unknown reason. The interior is small with minimal space between tables; seating for up to 30 people was found distributed across two floors. Remaining space was allocated for the cashier, a tabletop arrangement of Japanese snacks, and a bathroom that I did not visit (Oops. We were in a rush.)

​Tattered menus could be found scattered at every other table, perhaps to improve access to hurried walk-ins (or because stashing them away each time was pointless due to heavy lunchtime traffic). I hadn't noticed the waitresses wipe down the laminated sheets during my visit, leading me to question their cleanliness.
One thing can be certain though: it's unlikely their prices have inflated over the years, since none of the prices had been covered.

​Manpuku offered quite an expansive selection of traditional Japanese cooking. Ranging from homestyle nikujaga to sophisticated chawanmushi, and zenful ochazuke to classic natto rice, I was surprised to even find modern takes of takowasa and takoyaki on the menu.

Prices were ridiculously low, as many Yelpers had stated. In my mind, I had insisted that their associated costs be a reflection of the size and quality of their portions. However, upon placing our orders with the bubbly waitress, I was soon proven wrong.

​Along with chopsticks and ladles, full-sized bowls of Kake Udon and Wakame Udon were delivered to our table.
"It's huge!" were the first words to escape my mouth. My eyes widened at the meal. "This was not what I was expecting."

Feedthebear and I had also opted to share the Takoyaki. The supposed wait time is about twenty minutes, though I guess luck was on our side. The waitress reappeared within minutes of relaying the approximate wait time to us, piping hot takoyaki in hand. Should another customer's order been cancelled haphazardly, the bonito flakes were still surprisingly fresh.
Okonomiyaki sauce, Kewpie mayo, aonori were also present. Candidly speaking, the spongy spheres contained heftier chunks of octopus than most of my Ontarian experiences; the exteriors were crisp to taste, yet the middle soft and dough-like. Minor points were deducted for the lack of flavour in the sauce combination - I didn't find sufficient punch to contrast with the textures of the dish.

​After a round of photos, we began to dig into the warm bowls placed before us.

​Lax exploration played a major part in our weekend expedition, which is another way of saying that planning was kept a minimum. (Surprise, surpise!)

That being said, a few activities had remained unattained from the previous day, so we set out to accomplish them all with the help of a very compact, strict schedule

​Our third and final day commenced with a short bike ride around the neighbouring turf. A complete 180° from the previous day's climate, a cloudless azure with revitalizing gusts welcomed us, easing our sleepy minds into the tranquil morning cycle.

​Lunch was then had before whisking ourselves to J.B Tudhope (formerly Moose Beach) in Orillia for some brisk rowing. Windy and a bit overcast at the moment, the waves were much stronger than I had been accustomed to on the previous two visits.

​The sun gradually revealed itself after an hour or so of hide-and-seek. It was unfortunate that this coincided with our scheduled time of departure. I had hoped to gain a healthy bronze glow while on the water, yet UV rays were probably only present for the last thirty minutes of our stay. (I mean, my scalp and shoulder suffered burns nonetheless though...)

​Ice cream, especially those served atop vanilla-scented waffle cones, is a quintessential aspect of water activities, so, needless to say, it was impossible to vacate the asphalt lot without stopping by Sweet Dreams for our sugar fix. Peach Yogurt tasted a tad too artificial for my liking, though Coconut was as delicious as ever with its fragrant creaminess and chewy coconut shreds.

​Unaccomplished from the previous day was a tour inside The Flying Monkeys Brewery facilities. It only seemed right to drop by again as tours were frequently held on weekends and we wanted to try our luck at Hooligans' patio once more.

The guide allowed attendees to gather before taking us through the back doors and leading the way between gigantic beer tanks and over colourless puddles of stickiness. He wore steel-toed boots himself, and while most of the participants were casually dressed in polos and sandals, it should have been recommended to wear closed-toe footwear to prevent unforeseen injuries

​Approximately twenty to twenty-five minutes in duration, the tour comprised of equipment introductions, brief notes on brewing procedures, canning and bottling processes, and final delivery to worldwide retailers and specialty alcohol stores.

​Substantial bright beer tanks, as well as smaller tanks, were stored in the first room on the ground floor. Apparently, each tank been lowered via the skyroof at the top of the building as expansion of the brewery took place. Each of the lofty apparatus donned vibrant labels (I presume, for touring purposes) and were used to brew The Flying Monkeys' regular selection of beers; the smaller tanks, as told by our guide, mainly served for experimental brews that were on constant rotation on the menu.

Overheard was that the brewery worked with local farmers so used barley could be fed to livestock, meaning that no matter would be wasted.

Read Part 1 HERE !

​Continuing east then west on Dunlop led us to the MacLaren Art Centre, City Hall, vintage clothing shops, several Indian takeout joints, and stretches upon stretches of pubs with patios incorporated onto the sidewalk. Honestly, it was quite fascinating to find such a tremendous number of British pubs, Whiskey and Scotch bars, and Irish pub houses centred along the same span.

​At a certain point in time, we ducked into a hybrid boutique by the name of J'Adore Cheese and Chocolate. Originally it was the all caps SPEAKCHEESY that had spoken to me (no pun intended) and consequently prompted our entrance. The quiet but elaborately stocked interior carried an insance inventory of spices, preserves, pre-packaged biscuits, charcuterie items, and chocolate-covered confectioneries.

Not to be omitted was the impressive variety of cheeses, which ranged from vegan cashew cheese to Chocolate Cheese Fudge. Most were even categorized according to their source of dairy, be it cow, lamb, or goat.

​Have you ever head of a "hotdoggery"? I haven't, at least not until this visit.

​As dusk came, the menu posted outside Hooligans suddenly appeared appealing. In complete contrast to the tranquil drizzle taking place outside of the three-floor corner restaurant, noise pollution was extreme in the dining hall. With news that the patio was closed due to weather, there was no other option than to retrace our footsteps into the car and search for an alternative dinner location.

​Ominous grey clouds and overcast weather typically means resorting to indoor activities (or at least for everyone but the ​West Coast-ers that face sun-less skies all year-round).

For me, it means sleeping in, accomplishing a list of errands, and the occasional CoCo run. However, being away from home means making the most of the day, rain or shine.

​Following a late lunch, we leisurely traversed down the 400 in search of entertainment near Allandale Waterfront GO. The idea was entirely mine, as few occasions to explore the vicinity had surfaced on our several visits to The Farmhouse.

​An incredulous amount of construction was found to have commenced along the waterfront, restricting access to the perimeter of the lake at several points along the shore. With majority of the shops appearing dilapidated and ancient, it was suggested that we continue to skim Bradford Street and venture about the Downtown Barrie BIA.

​Exempt from a proper asphalt lot, parking adopted the form of diagonally-aligned parallel parking spots. Meter payments were requested at specified periods on weekdays, while weekday evenings and weekdays were free of charge. Spots weren't scarce by any means, although securing a space within the acceptable walking distance was a bearable challenge.

​It was my second day without a proper shot of espresso; once parking had finally been found on Owen St., I knew the first item on the agenda was to tend to my caffeine fix.

​If you've ever had the chance to make a 1.2 hour drive with no stops, I would highly suggest stretching beforehand. The lengthiest journey I've made would probably be the 2-hour trip from Richmond Hill back home during rush hour, amidst a collision and the peak of construction season. (And no, it was far from pleasant to shift centimetre by centimetre across Hwy 7 until traffic finally cleared.)
However, that pointless expedition did not involve the continual suppression of the acceleration pedal. This one did, and caused muscle spasms while at it.

​Complaints aside, we embarked on a journey to Barrie after I finally obtained my long-needed dose of McD's and 3 Guys. Having arrived just before rush hour but a tad too early for supper, there were few activities that could be engaged in after snacks were devoured and belongings were put in place.

​Exploring the nearby area led us to Chelsea Chocolates in Craighurst Belgian chocolate hand-crafted in every shape and form imaginable could be found in the cozy shop: from assorted fish-shaped truffles to milk chocolate wrenches, there were items of varying sizes for each and every occasion. A special Canada 150 series was also available as maple leaves sporting red-tinted cocoa butter on the surface.

​Hamilton, Waterloo, and Mississauga are on their way to a more transit-friendly community with the implementation of an LRT system along the suburbs' main corridors. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for Markham/Richmond Hill.
The Viva BRT along Highway 7 is revolutionary for northeast GTA, though its kinks still leave much to be desired for regular transit-riders. For weekend travels, and Sundays in particular, it proves insufficient in guaranteeing a stree-free commute with up to thirty-minute transfer gaps; for this very reason, the transition between GO Transit and local YRT would be rendered more troublesome than necessary.

​A ride is required for days like these. However, it remains unknown whether time was actually conserved at all, for cars on Hwy 7 merely creeped along with torpidity

The reverse situation was witnessed at Downtown Markham, the city's attempt at creating a publicly accessible spot for casual get-togethers and potential future night markets. Go For Tea was likely my last visit to the buildings at Enterprise and Birchmount, but even with a year's absence, I can't say I missed out on much.
One would have believed that a stretch of underground and abundance of asphalt would be more than capable of meeting the parking demands of Markham's driver-burdened population. Great disappointment found its way toward me, as this was not the case: frustration was thoroughly felt after making several loops around the underground lot with little luck. Eventually, a lone spot was secured at the edge of the exterior lot and the trek was made in the direction of the air-conditioned building duo. We climbed up the snail-like escalator - actually, I just hiked up the single flight of fifty-or-so stairs - and came face to face with the ridiculous crowd at Kiu.

​It wasn't that I hadn't expected a greater volume of customers on Father's Day; a lunch rush had been anticipated, though I had hoped an arrival within forty-five minutes of their opening hours would reduce crowd congestion.

Thankfully, small groups were easy to accomodate. The hostess was pleasant and offered to seat us at the sushi bar to fulfill my request for ample natural lighting. The lower level bar seating was actualy far more superior than the boxy booths and wooden tables: Noise levels were lower along the perimeter of the restaurant, the corner spot permitted plenty of space for storage of belongings, and the seats provided a clear view of the sushi chefs at work.

​Scaled salmon heads, empty hangiri, Styrofoam boxes, and blowtorch flames could be observed from our place of positioning. A myriad of activities were taking place simultaneously. The bustle was exciting; it was exciting to watch, almost alluding to promising final products. I honestly could have done without mounds of butchered fish placed immediately before me though.

​The scene tempted me to try their Aburi Sushi. My dining partner, who exclaimed that majority of their offerings were too pricey, took to the White Sesame Shio Ramen. As Kiu operated in partnership with Ramen Isshin on College, half of their menu had been allocated towards ramen bar items.

​Orders were collected by a waitress with slicked back copper treads and dusty white complexion. Ice water and a dish of soy sauce followed up shortly after.

​The 7-piece platter of flame-torched sushi bore a description that possessed little information besides that nigiri and oshizushi would be included. Neither variety could be confirmed by our waitress, as the choices were "chef's selection", a glorified term commonly denoting items of utmost convenience or those in need of urgent utilization.

Artificial slate would have added points for visual appeal, but instead a rectangular slab of chipped, substandard wood was used to support the seven microscopic pieces of Aburi to our table - er, bar seats. (The lacquered plank made even Sushi Tei's more economic goods appear refined!)
My first reactions comprised of aghast shock and disappointment; these emotions were then overcome by biting bitterness and sheer sadness for my wallet.

​The ratio of fish to rice was an abhorrent 4:1 ratio, with four parts adopting the form of crumbly rice featuring untossed spoonfuls of salt/sugar and inadequate ladles of vinegar. Failed to have been seasoned evenly, the frail fragments swirled about the insides of my mouth, much to my misery.

The highlight of Aburi is, without a doubt, the fattiness of the fish. Its technique intends to activate the natural fatty acids embedded within the fish, nixing the need for soy sauce or any other condiments. Jalapeno slices are occasionally used to cut slickness while leaving the remainder of the specimen untouched.

​With the Hallyu Wave taking over North America by storm, I wouldn't be surprised if Nature Republic or innisfree franchises being popping up any time soon. (Actually, since 101 Boys (aka Wanna One) have officially been confirmed as CF models for innisfree, I honestly would not mind having a location near me.)

The Face Shop, Tony Moly, and Missha have been long-time contenders of Pacific Mall's K-Beauty aisle; more recent additions include It'S SKIN, Myeongdong Beauty, and Multi Brand. New to the roster is ARITAUM, who opened their first standalone BC location in Aberdeen Centre in Richmond. (Oddly enough, I hadn't been aware of this at all during my summertime visit until orangecane brought it up in one of our conversations.)
Amore Pacfic, Sulhwasoo, and Laneige are only several of the brands that the store carries; majority of the shop's perimeter is lined with skincare items such as sleeping masks or serums, while colour cosmetics and beauty tools fill the core

​Photos were forbidden inside the two week-old beauty store, which I assume is to protect their pricing system and prevent promotions from leaking to other retailers.

​ARITAUM carries several crowd pleasers from Laneige, though the majority of the skincare items lean towards the mature skin group. I resorted to Multi Brand for tea tree-containing acne products.

​Debbie Cosmetics, presumably a Missha spinoff, is a name I've been noticing frequenting my inbox as of late. Located immediately across from Missha, the smaller shop retails products from particular brands that have gained individual popularity. The layout and pricing system is similar to that of Myeongdong Beauty.

After inspecting the Korean Beauty aisle, I soon felt pangs of hunger, and reasonably so since I had swapped breakfast for prolonged periods of sleep. We headed to the food court, only to find every single seat in existence occupied.
It was suggested that we backtrack towards Papa Chang's Express, for there was a vacant dining area and absence of a lineup.

​A combo of Minced Meat + Sausage on Rice and Wintermelon Tea was selected. The contents of the paper bowl was greasy, but capable of satisfying a ravaging appetite - probably Taiwanese street comfort food at its best. Its accompanying beverage, on the other hand, was just downright sugary and too sweet for my preferences.

​Dak Lak, which was simply around the corner from Papa Chang's, was a spot that I anticipated returning to on each of my P-Mall visits. ​In a sea of synthetic bubble tea stands, authentic Vietnamese coffee stole the spotlight for its energizing properties and unique presentation.

​It brings me sadness to announce that Hong Kong Milk Tea with Coffee Jelly no longer exists as part of their lineup. In its stead is Vietnamese Milk Tea and a milder variation of their best-selling Iced Coffee. Owl-themed cups and bubble tea have also replaced their pastry selection.

​Although my favourite has vanished from the menu, refuge was still found in their extra-potent Iced Vietnamese Coffee. The friendly shop is indeed appropriately named: 딱 (Dak) 좋아! (아가새s, are you with me??)