​For the regular commuter, subconsciously saving sights of one's surroundings within his or her mind isn't uncommon. Sometimes only selective observations are made, whereas outright oblivion occurs at other times.

In the rare case that I'm not absorbed in catching up with GOT7 news, I'll find myself staring mindlessly out the window of the bus while nodding to recent K-Pop releases, making mental notes about the unfamiliar-looking storefronts that pop up every now and then along Yonge. By engaging in this, I've unintentionally developed a casual to-go list suppressed deep in my brain folds, ready to call forth when the time arrives for the next North York excursion.

​At a loss for lunch options, I took to Google (and social media for ocular evidence) for assistance. Hakata had ranked near the top until I pondered about my several noodle-containing meals of the week. Associated with a stream of semi-consistent feedback, Satay Sate emerged triumphant.

I had recalled sauntering by its patio on numerous occasions, given the eatery's proximity to Sheppard station as well as North York Civic Centre. Digital reviews had remarked on the compactness of the establishment, limited service and seating, and speedy delivery times - all were proven to be true with our visit.

​Situated at the northeast corner of Yonge and Elmwood, Satay Sate appeared a lot larger from the exterior than it was in reality. Walls were dark with splashes of green, and decor was minimal with the exception of potted plants. A narrow strip of bar seats lined the north side of the eatery, while a communal table and two 2-person tables assumed spots in the centre and south perimeter respectively. A menu consisting of no more than eight entrees was placed near the counter.

​Within minutes of entering the near-vacant establishment, a stout middle-aged man emerged from the open kitchen in the back and demanded to know if we were ready to order. It was well after the lunch rush by this point, yet there were no greetings, introductions, nor even the faintest smile to welcome us onto the premises. Only one other customer remained seated in the dining area, but he had already been served and was merely munching on the contents of his biodegradable box. The hurried interrogation took me by surprise, as did his evident displeasure at having to tend to guests at all.

​Indonesian Street Food is not my specialty, so we were left to fend for ourselves and forage for additional details should the menu not provide sufficient clarity. The two most popular items - as derived from user reviews anyway - appeared to be the Beef Rendang and Sate Skewers, primarily Tempeh.
We settled for the Chicken Sate Entree and Beef Rendang, specifying the coconut rice upgrade (an additional dollar) for the former and relaying our concerns towards the spice level of the latter. The mustached man dismissed our woes about mildness, responding that it wasn't spicy in the slightest. This, of course, was a subjective opinion and he cared not a smidgen about whether his clients would be able to enjoy the dish's underlying seasonings whatsoever.

The reason why chili pepper symbols had been tacked beside the Sate Wraps but not the Sate Entrees remained unanswered to me, for I sensed sheer opposition from the cashier side to answer any questions from someone who was not fluent in his preferred choice of language. My foreign vocabulary is limited, though I was more than willing to expand my horizons should he had been willing to share about his culture and food customs. Curiosity remained unsatiated from the churlish service

​Multiple outlets were positioned along the walls for easy access. A secured Wi-Fi network was also offered, though the password was in quite the camouflaged spot; customers would have been unaware of its existence had they not inquired the service staff. The very fact that these two elements were offered in a quick service eatery was amusing to me, since it did not appear that they wished for customers to reside longer than necessary to consume their meals.

​Officially the turning point of both summer vacation and yearly quarters, July is the month I tend to enjoy the most. Dissimilar to past years, it's been a rather lax period of minimal driving and extended project planning. A restricted budget is synonymous with heavier amounts of home-cooked meals, though is by no means an indication of reduced culinary creativity.

Summerlicious hasn't really ever been my cup of tea, and neither have psychotic lineups in thirty plus humidity. In response to the preposterous prices of trendy food items, I've opted to stay within the ventilated indoors to formulate my own recipes, or grab quick bites throughout the city between errand-running.

1) Sufficiently satisfying sushi from Mac's
The portion size could have been larger for the price point, the rolls a little less dry, and the salmon sashimi a tad fleshier, though the quality of service and pickled ginger were above average for a food court stall.

​2) Love Me Sweet/Squish/Eva's collaboration shop is finally heading to Square One! Chimneys are definitely the more preferable choice over Sweet Jesus, from my perspective as a local anyway.

3) The rare Costco run means hot dogs and towering swirled Soft Serve cones

4) Homemade Houijcha Latte - brewed from none other than Tsujiri's own roasted tea satchels, of course.
5) Utilizing leftovers to scrape together a ham- and cauliflower-enhanced Japchae
6) Bringing packed food is the obvious method of enjoying Wonderland economically

​7) The Wanna One hype doesn't seem like it's dying down anytime soon, especially not when Kang Daniel makes an appearance on my feeds at least once every hour.

​8) Peanut Butter S'Mores Toast for breakfast (Remember that S'Mores Pie?)

​Who doesn't love flowers? Blooming buds have the power to uplift spirits and deliver olfactory elation; for most Canadians such as myself, they embody the very essence of spring.

But while floral matter is wonderful to gaze upon, their appearance in the culinary world is a hit-or-miss for many. Their most common usages lie in infused teas and skin-calming beauty products, which I personally find to be the most fitting. The scents of charred cedar or smoky charcoal are believably more versatile when applied to cooking purposes - maple salmon and Aburi sushi are prime examples.

Nevertheless, I enjoy flowers - colourful, aromatic wholesomeness and all - especially when ice cream is involved.

Quite frankly, I had no idea that the journey to Milton would be a painfully tedious drive through farmville devoid of clear signage and freeways (No, I'm not counting the 401 during rush hour). I later learned that Weir's Lane was, in fact, rather close to Dundas Peak/campus grounds and only a teensy bit further in terms of distance. Travel time would have been dependent on the QEW, but still relatively similar to reaching the countryside.

Navigating around the already-congested in the early afternoon hours, we managed to successfully make our way to the farm with just over an hour to explore before they were set to close at 4 PM.

​Temporarily setting aside the hazards encountered on the drive there (sharp turns, hidden pathways, minimal warning signs, an absence of streetlights, etc.), the entrance to the farm itself was the aspect requiring the most urgent attention.
Terre Bleu was situated on the east side of two one-way NB/SB lanes, immediately following one of the aforementioned sharp turns with minimal warning signs. Entering the farm would require vehicles to halt and carefully check beyond the stone boulders shouldering the gate: it was the single access/egree point and there was only enough room for one car to pass through at one time. Honestly, this was a hazard to both the vehicles attempting to depart/enter as well as those making a turn onto the quiet dead-end street.

Seasonal (presumably) summer staff guided vehicles through the gate and into the grassy parking area. This was very much appreciated for newcomers such as ourselves, especially when signage was, once again, essentially nonexistent. The team appeared rather young, yet appeared fairly experienced in directing traffic with a friendly demeanour.
The unpaved field was fairly large and could have easily contained up to one hundred vehicles, given that each was neatly parked. Thankfully, the rainy conditions and looming grey clouds seemed to have dispersed a large portion of tourists.

​Entrace fees were a hefty fifteen dollars per head on weekends and ten dollars on weekdays. Given that the farm was pretty compact and that souvenirs would set one back further, I did not feel as if this admission fee was justified given the number of attractions on offer.

Columns of varying lavender bushes lined the bulk of the farm, while the admission hut, gift shop, mini photo area, and ice cream lineup consumed the remaining land.

View the full album HERE !

The area would have been a huge joy for lavender- and flower-lovers alike, but merely a field with scarce frolicing space for infants and children. Stringent rules were also implemented to restrict the touching of any of the delicate lavender plants. Given the extravagant number of bees pollenating the buds during our visit, I suppose this wasn't necessarily negative as it minimized chances of young children getting stung.​

​For two individuals whose visual partialities nor musical preferences cross paths, ochungg and I share fascinatingly similar perspectives on food. And maybe that's the reason why our meetups always entail eating. We tend to trek off the calories, then munch again at the next destination.

Having scoured downtown, midtown, as well as uptown and Scarborough, I suggested an unconventional type of gustatory adventure: traversing the more economic route of cooking instead of investing in someone else's business.

Following her two-hour trip into foreign territory, we joined forces to create a single serving of omurice. Leftover japchae and zucchini meant sufficient sustenance for me, so I merely took to educating myself by the ways of Cooking with Dog and Jun's Kitchen for a traditional omelet rice walkthrough.

​The result was quite satisfactory, given the meager portion of available ingredients. I hadn't exactly proven successful at recreating the flowing centre of the Kyoto-style omelet, however the delicate, fluffy centre of my slightly browned variation wasn't half bad either.

​A S'mores Pie was also on the agenda - more details about that HERE ! - , so by the time two layers of the dessert had been crafted and each pot and pan was restored to its original state, it was already approaching dinner time.

Unlike the east end of the GTA, Mississauga houses a limitless number of cuisine options, ranging from home-style Chinese to shawarma to authentic Filipino to modern Thai. The choices were vast, though a time constraint meant immediately narrowing down the closest and most unique one of them all.

​Deep Dish Pizza is a Chicago native, though this doesn't automatically mean travelling south of the border is the sole method of obtainment. Besides specialty shops in the downtown core, Mickey's Pizza in Clarkson and Enzo's Two Guys from Italy in Streetsville are your next best bets.

The greasy, unsettling atmosphere and ridiculously lengthy wait time at Mickey's had been enough to deter me from a second visit. Enzo's, on the other hand, I had missed out on the opportunity to try during one of their long weekend closures and was more than enthusiastic to visit.

​Not having even cast a single glance at the menu, I pressed the "Call" button and waited for a response. A perky voice responded at the other end almost immediately.
I briefly inquired about the preparation time for a deep dish pizza, as well as the topping options available, before relaying an odd request: Should the pizza be ready by our time of arrival, we would have it for takeout; if not, then we would dine in.

The process played out surprisingly smoothly, for we pulled open the doors to Enzo's just minutes before our order was ready.

​As a reception area had been omitted, we were a tad confused as to whether we should seat ourselves or hover about the entranceway. Thankfully, we were soon greeted by one of the members of staff and gestured to pick any table we desired.
Seating comprised of booths and tables lined with sauce-proof tablecloths. Tables of varying sizes were scattered throughout two dining areas, while an enclosed bar with high stools could be found in a narrow strip leading towards the bathrooms.

Shortly after settling into our wooden chairs, a steaming 4-Slice Deep Dish Pizza was placed before our eyes by an older member of staff. The ever-so-fragrant creation sat atop a contraption sporting one single candle, presumably to retain warmth in the pizza and enable stringy cheese pulls throughout the meal.

!​Most of my acquaintances are fairly inclusive, so there's never been much pressure to delve into hyped surroundings. Nevertheless, there are a few prominent memories that appear in my mind at the mention of Wonderland. As I recounted tales of trekking through treacherous heat and conserving an entire day's appetite for a hefty dinner, a particularly snarky individual remarked in outrage at my omission of the Behemoth and Leviathan.

In my defense, the weather conditions had been seriously humid and unforgiving, while the lineups lengthy beyond belief. I voluntarily opted out of pure fatigue and partial annoyance at the whole scene.

It's wasn't that I hadn't wanted to try the two famed coasters of the amusement park though. Consequently, I made it a personal mission to attain this unfulfilled goal before the conclusion of summer. And as luck would have it, a friend of mine happened to have access to discounted tickets.

We were welcomed by several Canada 150 statues - since tourists are inevitable - as well as Conductor Snoopy's Fountain show!​

​Snoopy has entirely overrode his owner, Charlie Brown, by dominating both the gift shop and a section of the children's play area. Crossing the rainbow stone bridge and on the other side of the rainbow was Snoopy Planet, which was adorned with the giddy black-and-white dog in every two-metre radius.

​Did I mention that there's also a Snoopy Boutique? Believe it or not, it carries anything from fashion t-shirts to soft baby plushies. Not even the monogrammed Velcro monkeys had a say in his territory.

Generally, I tend to bring light, non-perishable (or at least resilient) foods to munch on while at the park. The idea to satiate one's hunger, maximize one's staying period, and quickly move onto to more attractions once all has successfully digested.
The remaining members of my party had other intentions, however.

Staying solo wasn't exactly an option, so I was blatantly coerced into joining them for the fifteen-minute journey outside the park premises and back. Apparently St. Louis hadn't been "good" enough, and neither had HERO's; the only thing acceptable in the vicinity was discovered to be 2-for-$5 slices from Pizza Pizza. And here I thought I had always been a nasty bother to dine with.

Of course, my pain didn't simply end here. Besides being directed to join lineups by one single member of the group, I was also forbidden from checking the Leviathan off my list until all members were present. It's as if the thought of riding twice had never crossed their minds.

​With secondary school examinations having concluded for the season, I've been leading a rather desk-bound lifestyle since dragging myself to Oakville through rush hour is no longer a task I need to take part in. July has provided me with oodles of time for exploration and backlog review, and brief road trips on days I'd like to feel less sedentary.

Canada Day has since passed, though that isn't necessarily synonymous with the halting of Canada 150 celebrations throughout the GTA. The stickers and logos remain visible everywhere, and as I patriotic individual, I'm pleasantly proud of it.

Here are some partial/mid-month visuals to sum up my previously unposted activities:
​
1) Day trip to Welland

​2) Minion Happy Meals are the best Happy Meals (besides Snoopy and Monsters Inc. ones, of course) 
3) Foraging for sustenance near St. Catharines

​4) Disney x The Face Shop
While on the hunt for a fitting gift for my birthday twin, I came across the Disney x The Face Shop limited edition collection. Lip tints, lip balm pots, and eye-lip palettes were fabulous and all, but the true stunner of the pack was the eyeliner-mascara duo.

​The metal box was sleek yet charming, while the tops of both products boasted adorable Mickey Mouse ears. I have yet to deplete my black eyeliner samples, however this set was just too irresistibly cute! (Bonus: I also received a kitchen towel set for fulfilling the purchase.)

It's already been well over a year since I've gone. The luminous colours, hazy excitement, and constant pounding of Whack-A-Mole and DDR machines - I've missed them all. When the opportunity to re-experience this exhiliration arose, I jumped at the chance.

But awkwardly stomping to the beat of K-Pop can't be done without food first. Twin Fish in Meadowvale, as well as a Mexican diner near Milton train tracks, have been on my radar as of late. Neither was arguably close to Central Mississauga, but we headed over anyway and began the search for parking.

After five to ten minutes of driving around the block, we met success in a decently close corner spot. We then sauntered through the doors of El Mariachi, a relatively new addition to Streetsville that has branded itself for tacos and churros, and were immediately acknowledged.

​There were three seating areas to choose from: a "lounge" consisting of a bar area surrounding the front entrance on Queen Street, a backyard patio that was practically glowing in teal, and a dining hall that provided more privacy by being situated in the enclosed section of the restaurant behind the bar. The server, who also doubled as a host and bartender, cheerfully guided us through the entire restaurant and allowed us to arrived at a seating conclusion with patience.

Once seated, laminated menus and a brief introduction to the restaurant was provided. Iced water was served up shortly afterwards in stout glasses adorned with a wedge of lime.

​Among their eight taco choices, we opted for the Baja Fish Tacos. The item had proved to be the most popular among Yelpers and seemed the single mildest pick based off description. A trio of three soft-shelled tacos made their way over after fifteen minutes or so, slightly overlapping one another with a centrepiece of three lime wedges.

​It was impossible to maintain dignity as these were devoured: despite the strong resistance of the tortillas, leaking sauce and shredded cabbage fallout was inevitable. Reviewing the item, sixty percent of its composition was shredded cabbage, twenty percent fried cod, ten percent tortilla, and ten percent Chipotle mayo. Chubby strips of battered white fish were nestled comfortably underneath unseasoned, unvaried slaw (read: slaw, not coleslaw). Despite the skillful frying of the cod, the remaining elements were strictly disappointing by means of gustatory profile. I also could not find prominent disparities between the Chipotle mayo and regular Hellman's.

​Considering that guacamole is a fundamental item on the menus of most Mexican eateries, I requested additional information from our server about their house's unique characteristics. He claimed that it was the best that he had ever tried, though his declaration fell short of any concrete evidence. Admittedly, faith had been lost at the very moment he failed to justify his reasons, regardless of how I pressed for details on texture or seasoning specifics. Ultimately, we looked towards another dish to share.

​Between the two choices for quesadillas, Gringa sought my attention over the Lechera (steak and chese) for its distinct combination of cheesy meat and acidic pineapple. I had no idea as to the shape or form "al pastor" meat would be presented in, though hadn't doubted that it would possess both spice and texture. The outcome was regrettable pry pricey for two pieces of thick, starchy white tortillas and bits of meat as stiff as threads of twine. A painfully thin layer of cheese - seemingly Tex Mex mix - had appeared to once be melted, but then rapidly settled to a sad, solid state, thus crushing cheese strings dreams. The tortillas were precisely the same as the base for the Baja Tacos, no more substance and no less toasting; talk about diversifying one's ingredient selection!

​As far as Middle Eastern cuisine goes, I'm relative inexperienced besides the two rare incidents that brought me to try Paramount and Bamiyan Kabob. I was introduced to the latter by an entity of tremendous familiarity with the cooking style, and while it wouldn't have automatically emerged as my first choice before, I was pleasantly surprised with the unprecedented profile.

Fast-forward to this past June, I received a gracious invitation to an event titled "Foodie Silk Road". A "foodie", by perception, is an extremely generic term that can be applied to any mortal that appreciates the process of filling their appetite with food; an "enthusiast", on the other hand, narrows down the group within that is equipped with the knowledge of comparing and contrasting food-related concerns. The "enthusiast" can be narrow- or open-minded, though his or her opinions will likely be of analytical nature. To many, this is deemed as "pickiness", however I tend to enjoy referring to this accumulation of gustatory knowledge as a path of continual development and self-improvement.

​Alas, let's not stray from the Silk Road. In order to raise awareness about the various types of Afghani dishes offered, Naan & Kabob set out to increase exposure via word-of-mouth as well as social media, a quintessential component of marketing in today's modern society.

The event was to be held in the recently refurbished food court of Scarborough Town Centre, a shopping centre that is quite distant from my own suburban quarters. To meet the start time of 11:30 AM, we set out just following the morning rush and arrived with ample time to spare.

​A section within the food court seating was isolated for the purpose of this event; there was a distinct barrier surrounding the tables, though I can't quite say it was sufficient in obstructing hangry lunch-goers from sneaking in and plopping their trays before them. Frankly, it was a tad amusing to me that the thought of restricted access never crossed their minds.

We were ushered into the area upon arrival, provided beverages and complimentary gift bags, and seated soon after our lunch orders were taken.
The reign of Middle Eastern cuisine remained exotic, unexplored territory for me, so I had requested the assistance of the event staff for meal selection advice. Apparently, standalone locations had different best-sellers as opposed to the quick service outlets, and reasonably so as the establishment categories catered to different niches. The Shish Kabob and Tandoori Chicken were notable picks amongst the Grilled Kabob Plates, so we followed suit.

​The images in the menu were a tad misleading, but there is no negative indication in this by any means. An identical set of elements were present in the containers we later received, though amplified to a portion size more extravagant than pictured.
Shish Kabob and Tandoori Chicken Kabob Plates would ring in at $8.49 and $9.99 respectively, with the addition of rice tacking on an additional $1.50 to $2.00.

Plastic black containers donning our names were presented to us shortly after noon. My immediate reaction was appreciation towards the labelling and organized manner of distribution. Containers with snap lids ensured that all leftovers could easily be taken home, while labelling prevented conflicts and confusion over similar orders.
Given the quick service setting, these operation details are key to maintaining steady service and uncompromised efficiency.

​Each meal arrived with a toasty slice of Naan bread tucked into a white paper bag. Within the container was our choice of protein, curried chickpeas, a bed of seasoned long-grain rice (presumably Basmati), and a side salad tossed in a creamy but light dressing.
As the bases were essentially carbon copies, we took turns in sampling the marinated skewers. Tandoori Chicken featured six vibrant pieces boneless, skin-less chicken breast that were charred to perfection. We had been warned of its not-so-mild seasoning profile, but the result was a bold, smoky flavour with underlying flickers of pepperiness. Its cross-section was, interestingly, paler in tone and a bit dry given its glossy appearance. An entire platter of the chicken may have exceeded my own spice tolerances, though my dining partner-in-crime enjoyed the moderate mildness.

Recall my proven theory that Markham and Oakville residents demonstrate maximum reluctance to venture beyond specific east-west boundaries. Now compare this against a half-day downtown trip to engage in munching catch-up sessions with former colleagues. The difference in willingness to transit is vast, and remains an extraordinary mystery to someone who hails from a region of outgoing suburban folk.

A plan had been set in place: morning coffee would be substituted with milk tea from Chinatown's most recent lounge spot before grabbing lunch with an alumni acquaintance.
The place in question had piqued my interest on one of my trips on the 510. In contrast to the obnoxiously bold lettering and gaudy colours of its surrounding establishments, Icha Tea calmly distinguished itself with a sleek, earthy vibe that was mostly associated with uptown cafes.

​Despite the excitement that rattled each and every bone in my body, I fallen victim to the idiotic blunder of forgetting to check opening hours. Their operating hours were slated to begin at noon, but I needed to be elsewhere at that time.

Bowing my head in disappointment, I looked towards the adjacent facilities for an alternative. Adjacent was Sam James Coffee Bar; on its steps were two young, black-tshirt-donning males smoking and looking utterly disinterested in the world and its happenings.
I excused a path of entry for myself and hiked up the steps. The front area of the warehouse-like shop comprised of SJCB's brewing area and cashier, while the back housed a decent selection of Stussy menswear items. The two men had lifted themselves from their resting spot upon seeing me wander into the shop. One greeted me, looking extremely alarmed, before I turned back towards the front for my caffeine fix.

​The barista lady was none too friendly either. She had been resting at the boxy seat area before I sauntered up to the counter, and only appeared testy when I reviewed the menu situated near the ceiling. An iced latte or mocha would have been my regular choice, though Cold Brew for $2.62 fascinated me. This lengthy brewing technique is known for being retailed at higher price points than its freshly-brewed counterparts, so it was definitely odd to see the inverse.

For reasons why SJCB refuses to accept any other form of payment besides cash is uncelebrated. I handed over my $2.75 and was presented a plastic cup subsuming three quarters' worth of product. Presumably, this space had been left for customers to add milk or cream. However, I consume my Cold Brew black, thus requested her to fill the remaining space.
The barista nodded, but only topped off the beverage to the 85% mark, then slid it over.

​Butter Knife from Cut Coffee was the day's cold brew blend. It was a darker roast that I was accustomed too, and not very aromatic either. The brew wasn't particularly concentrated, which is fine by my standards, though its acidic aftertaste was found to be very off-putting. I sipped at the sour-tasting solution slowly, eventually disposing of it at the halfway mark since I couldn't swallow any further.

Sam James is a frequent name spotted throughout various Toronto neighbourhoods, most commonly as a grab-and-go outlet. Service varies across the locations, but I find that The Path ranks highest in terms of friendliness. (Keep in mind that not all members are cheerful).

My dining partner was in agreement with my suggestion to dine at Pai, as it had assumed a spot on her to-try list before. Ultimately, the lines were too extravagant, so we took our Thai cuisine cravings to the next closest option: Kiin.

I haven't had the opportunity of trying Khao San Road after their relocation to the brighter, roomier Charlotte venue. As far as reviews go though, shrinking portions, inflation, and poor service aren't factors I'm particularly keen on witnessing.
Offering similar cuisine in Khao San Road's old spot is Kiin - a destination that boasts intricate decor and ample illumination. Dark walls had been swapped for windows, and dingy yellow lighting for delicate hanging bulbs. Wooden seats were converted to emerald booths and cushioned chairs. Even the bar area appeared more luminous than before.

​Just in time to secure the last two-person table for the lunch rush, the hostess seated us with a smile before resuming her standing duties. Front-line staff comprised of two waitresses, one hostess, one water-pourer, at least one bartender, and two members of management staff that seemed to be regulating the restaurant's operations.
The single "water-pourer" adopted an interesting role: she ensured that cups were never empty with constant refills, but deferred all menu questions to the waitresses. At times, she would assist with making the waitresses aware of requests, though would not tend to them firsthand. If the position was to shadow a member of higher seniority, I suppose inefficiency is inevitable. On the other hand, additional responsibilites should be assigned for improved productivity, especially during peak lunch hours.

​The extremely compact menu took the form of a double-sided sheet listing seven signature creations on one side and build-your-own noodle soups on the other. I was slightly stunned to find that such a diner-style manner of ordering found its way to a destination of such sophisticated appearance. Allowing customers to mark their own selections with dull pencil crayons would aid in minimizing errors and quickening the process of order entry, though it seemed unnecessary if staff had already been trained.
We were later informed that they had only opened for lunch recently, and that most servers were more familiar with dinnertime procedures. I failed to see why customer interactions and speed were adversely affected by this.

The aforementioned ordering sheet was concluded to play no part in quickening speed of service. Neither of us could comprehend why Kiin operated at a sloth-like pace when the lunch rush was token compared to Pai (seating was at approximately 60% capacity) and order sheets were so straightforward.
Both the waitress and water-pourer provided their recommendations to us, pleasantly so, and heeded the spiciest item before returning eons later.

​Fabulous weather means one of the following for practically all Canadians: beach trips, patio feasts, backyard barbecues, drives along the waterfront, or essentially any outdoor activity. Inhabitants of Central and Eastern Canada endure painful periods of winter for approximately a third of each year, so we've learned to immerse - and marinate - ourselves under the sun whenever possible.

​Situated at the edge of Markham and Scarborough, Whittamore's Farm was a bustling destination for tourists and locals alike. Its proximity to the Toronto Zoo ensured that there would be no shortage of clients come July, when most fruits are in season and handy for picking.