My three-week baking streak has lodged me into the category of a weekend baker, or a "Sunday Baker" (I kid) given the regular production rate for the past fourteen days.

Weekends at home have comprised of chores, general housekeeping (both digital and physical), and an undeniable sense of peace - the much-needed  "me time" I had endeavoured to muster since the start of the year.

​Past the espresso tonic concocted and Okunomatsu Junmai Daiginjo Sparkling Sake sampled (Mio is better, for the record), I delved into yet another round of creations after finally publishing last year's Vancity recap.

1) Chocolate Ganache Montée

The cake filling/frosting was adapted from Sunday Baking's Best Pistachio Cake Recipe with a 1:2 ratio of chocolate (144 g of Surfin) to heavy cream (288 g).

Slight separation was observed the following day, after over 24 hours of refrigeration. Whipping enabled the return of a uniform consistency and a thick but spreadable filling with the essence of chocolate pudding - just much, much better than the box mixes.

Having seen some degree of success with my "control", I revised the recipe to utilize two egg yolks as opposed to one whole egg. The intent was to increase the "fudgy" factor, however ultimately resulted in rough-edged discs that were highly friable. There was minimal rise (a good thing, in the case) and also no issues removing the pieces from the pan. That said, the formula tasted far more cloying than the last few batches, with the exception of Kitchen Conundrums' edition, despite maintaining a consistent quantity of sugar.

Be it a result of Mother Nature's whimsy or climate change, or both, fall this year has revealed itself uncharacteristic and inconsistent.
In one hand could be a Pumpkin Scone from COBS Bread, yet before me fully clothed trees, either bearing all yellow foliage or a gradient of ashen olive, muted mustard, and somber copper.

Some parts of the city are starting to show leaf fall, yet the sight is not necessarily synonymous with colour change. Venturing towards the north side of city centre for a souvenir from Yellowknife, I saw murky skies but ample sunshine. Oh, and lots of construction.

Heading into downtown presents another series of weather-dependent woes: How does one dress for single-digit mornings, a potentially frigid office, and sweltering afternoons?
A light jacket would neither suffice for the morning trek, nor be needed for 4 PM walk back to Union. A cardigan would be adequate when stationed at one's desk, but too cozy for lunch walks.

​My coworker, who has recently returned from a two-week long vacation in Japan and Korea with ashy blonde treads and decidedly oversized attire, presented the team with mini KitKat and micro Pokémon gummies as souvenirs. In response to my request for pickled sakura blossoms was a 30 g container, supposedly obtained in a Kyoto convenience store.

​Over lunch, I scoured the vicinity in search of a festive, spooky cauldron to display my Halloween Finger Cookies.

​Northbound to MARKTS 777 I would venture once more. Dollarama, while extensive in their selection of Hallmark holiday fixtures, failed to provide a cauldron of appropriate material (matte finish, not reflective plastic) and size (it was smaller than my palm!).

Routing through College Park towards Yonge, an elaborate display of pumpkins was observed at the east entrance of the park. The harvest-themed installation served as both a BIA-reflective decoration and photobooth.

​Continuing my search in the AURA retail building, I ascended onto the second floor towards IKEA. The front display had already been populated with holiday merchandise - red, green, white, and shimmery.

On the contrary, Halloween treats often lack effort and consideration. Chocolate- and marshmallow-topped "Ghost Krispies", Oreo spiders, Candy Corn sugar cookies, and Strawberry jam-drizzled "Brain" Jello are notable easy, family-friendly creations, but unfortunately only engage the visual senses. Yet, the treats of gustatory adequacy tend to entail some degree of time and/or expertise - think Pumpkin Pies and Tarts, lavish charcuterie boards, or marbled loaves - with visuals more commonplace than creepy.

But Finger Cookies are different.
In fact, they constitute one of my favourite childhood memories - possibly the second most momentous occurrence in the kitchen since decorating Christmas cookies!

Frankly, they're easier to make as well, as the fingers are formed organically rather than a repetitive routine of rolling, cutting, chilling (if needed), and re-rolling. The dough was derived from our go-to butter cookie recipe. Half was kept plain, while the other half was made matcha. I had added all but 20 g of the required quantity of flour before roughly dividing the dough in half. Ten grams of AP flour and Momo Tea's Matsu were added to each bowl.

​A blend of icing sugar, milk, and food colouring could have easily been whisked together for the bloody finishing touch. Though, we decided to give Wilton's food gel a chance when it was found on the shelves. The microsparkles had me worried at first, for glitter ought be reserved for the holiday season to come. Thankfully, the shimmery components were hardly visible in the final product.

​Sliced blanched almonds work best in mimicking the appearance of fingernails. While on the pricey side, this ingredient should be sourced wherever possible, for whole almonds simply do not exude the same ghoulish appearance. Do be mindful of their brittleness however, and press them into the cookie at the base instead of the tip - physics!

At first, I hadn't been entirely convinced I could recreate the image from my childhood, and even added a ring to prompt the recognition of the cookies as being finger-shaped. Slowly but surely, the Halloween Fingers came together, looking very much realistic.

2) Marbled Banana Bread

These loaves require no introduction, having been constructed at least thirty times in my kitchen.

While the chocolatey, sugar-topped specimens were placed in the oven, I turned my attention towards ghost- and pumpkin-shaped rollout cookies. These would be without faces this time, as stamping on soft dough had previously proved excruciating during the cleaning process.

Maximizing the harvest season is admittedly exhausting as someone who endeavours to capture and document each individual experience. Three consecutive weeks of investigating the external environment later, I was overwhelmed with fatigue that, unfortunately, transitioned into my day-to-day routines, limiting my productivity as a consequence.

Yet, over-exerted as I felt, these outcomes did not diminish my spirit for all things autumn.
On a mission to prevent disappointment, a homemade Pumpkin Spice Latte was crafted. While I had originally thought to test a limited-time variation from a nearby café or fast food chain, it dawned upon me that the "pumpkin spice", in reality, contained no pumpkin at all. Furthermore, espresso and milk were readily accessible components in my household. "Why not just make it myself?" so I thought. And I did.

Meals of the week comprised of: leftover Mystic North from Pie Wood, Aloha Pulled Pork over Gai Lan and Steamed Rice, Scrambled Egg w/ Pickled Turnip + Steamed Pork + Choy Sum over Steamed Rice, and Chunky Beef Stew + Shredded Romaine over Rice (to quench desires for a Mexican Steak Bowl).

​Takeout from Trithis would round off the end of the week.

Three months later, I would eventually recall the existence of takeout S'mores packs from Gyu-Kaku. Torching would only succeed in charring the perimeter, while baking rendered the graham crackers sodden; toasting for about four minutes was the best alternative to mimicking grill conditions.

​I also enjoyed a canned Brown Sugar Milk Tea. Proving too sugary on its own, a single stick of G7 Espresso was its ideal partner in achieving harmony.

Creations of the week included:

1) Apple Crumble Cake

My recollection of last year's Apple Mania trials are muddled, simply due to the sheer quantity of experiments. However, I did recall fondness towards an apple-containing variation of Sunday Baking's Blueberry Crumble Cake.

​Having reserved three Golden Delicious for the creation, I was surprised to find just two awaiting me in the fruit basket. Only after slicing and baking was the third located, just two feet from the others. In hindsight, the error was preventable, but overlooked amidst my haste.

"Why are we going out again when you haven't recovered?"
"Because fall is very, very short - maybe two to three weeks, then it's over."

I have always been adamant about my planned activities, persevering through any unfortunately-timed hindrances that may befall, yet I was particularly determined about autumn outings. The reason was simple: Nature waits for no one.

​And so even with an impossibly late, post-stretch bedtime and about six hours of mediocre sleep, the planned route would proceed, albeit later than expected (or desired).

Since the Mono Cliffs venture of the previous week, I've come to learn the benefits of being an early bird. Of course, it's not that I hadn't been aware of such benefits, just that having them depicted in a manner that reinforces early arrivals with efficiency made all the difference. I was more willing to drag myself out of bed before 9 AM on weekend, for the sheer sake of saving time overall.

​Traffic along the 400 was as congestion-free as could be. I had spent this leg of the trip with my eyes closed in hopes of preserving energy for the drive back. Fatigue was a tragic monster to battle; I had begun dozing off while standing by the sink, washing dishes from breakfast. Naturally, this prompted my immediate shift towards the passenger seat for the safety of all.

​Google Maps had estimated roughly 90 minutes of driving, though we exited onto Mapleview in just over an hour. The designated rest stop of McDonald's was closed upon our arrival, thus we crossed over to the east side of Barrie View Drive towards Tim Hortons.

Situated at the east end of the plaza, the location hadn't appeared very big from the outside. Once within, we were surprised by its spacious quarters and varied baked goods selection. The bathrooms, which comprised of two stalls, were also quite clean and well-maintained.

I acquired up a Pumpkin Spice Muffin and Old-Fashioned Glazed Donut to sustain us until lunchtime. The latter was, as expected, a specimen sweeter than spiced.

On the other hand, Timmies' Pumpkin Spice Muffin truly took me by surprise. The creation was moist, yet not overly so to the point of exuding greasy aromas. Its surface was topped with salted pumpkin seeds, which offered a savoury, crunchy contrast to the body of the muffin. At its core was a milky filling of sorts: a stable, starch-thickened component with mild notes of cream cheese. Half of the muffin was devoured with ease, the rest set aside for later enjoyment.

​We then proceeded along local roads to Tiffin Centre for Conservation.

Unlike Mono Cliffs, the area was relatively developed. The neighbouring fixtures were primarily residential/institutional in nature, adopting the forms of substantially-sized houses with winding driveway accesses or schools. Needless to say, we did not suffer loss of signal at this location.

The entrance was located at the west limit of the site, off 8th Line. Within seconds of turning in, the trailhead parking came into view. Continuing inwards, we found signage for school buses and admin staff, as well as and one-way indicators.

Past the workshop and learning centre buildings, we looped into one of two gravel lots. A QR code was spotted, noting the permit details of "Tiffin - Zone 3011".
Prior to departing the GTA, I had secured a day parking permit from the Nottawasaga Valley Conservation Authority website. Payment could also be transmitted on site, like Scanlon Creek, though desktop versions remain my first choice whenever available. The day use permit was, interestingly, pricier than Mono Cliffs at $10 plus tax. That said, Mono Cliffs was largely self-guided; Tiffin, in contrast was known to host field trips and families for their various outdoor learning experiences - and Maple Syrup Festival!

​Just two other vehicles were present at our time of arrival. Sauntering past one with a photo permit, the trail map came into view.

​The conservation area's General Trail would lead to Papa Bear Pond and its four lookout platforms, plus one bridge. Serene was the scenery, as it should be on a brisk autumn morning.

​Despite having anticipated dreariness and rainfall, the skies had gradually cleared to yield a luminous blue. Surrounding the pond's perimeter were a number of deciduous trees; some bore vivid complexions of red and orange, while others persisted with green and patches of yellow.

View the full album HERE !

Ontario is home to a bounty of fresh, local produce. In the summertime, pick-your-own farms thrive on strawberry-, blueberry-, and cherry-picking excursions. Meanwhile, stone fruit and root vegetables gradually become more prominent as the harvest season wraps up in late fall.

​While I'm no SK, I'd like to believe that the plethora of grocery stores in my neighbourhood offer as vast a selection as her coveted Union Square Farmer's Market.

Creations of the week included:
​
1) Roasted Kabocha Soup

The harvest season cannot be without butternut squash soup. Tending to kabocha in a similar fashion, chunks of the golden root vegetable were tossed with a plentiful portion of onions, garlic, and shallots in an olive oil-rosemary-sage-nutmeg marinade before being transferred to the oven. The pan's constituents would unleash wondrous aromas throughout the roasting process.
Although I cannot specify the exact period of roasting, the pan was kept at 400 F until all edges had acquired a slight char: the start of the Maillard reaction and caramelization.

​The next step involved transferring the components to a large pot, which would then be filled with scarcely enough water to cover the ingredients. Kabocha puree - unseasoned but roasted - would also be spooned into the pot. Next, the pot would be brought to a simmer. A hand blender was summoned to achieve the concoction's signature luscious texture.

​I had utilized a whole clove of partially dry garlic in this execution, though would endorse a reduced amount should fresher garlic be within reach as to prevent the sweet, nutty flavours of squash from being overwhelmed. Nutmeg was a barely detectable addition to the roasting mix, yet contributed mild notes of coziness. These attributes were particularly evident when pairing the soup with a sweet slice of Cinnamon Raisin toast.

2) Kabocha Tart

Adapted from the almighty Sunday Baking, this tart was truly a labour of love. A decently-sized kabocha squash was secured just before the Thanksgiving statutory holiday. Once home, it was washed, lightly patted dry, then subject to baking at 350 F for about 35-40 minutes. Baking time would obviously differ depending on the size of squash, though I found this duration sufficient enough to soften the skin for easy chopping and peeling.

In keeping with the annual occurrence of Thanksgiving long weekend hiking, I dived deep into research in the weeks leading up to October. The three-day weekend had come earlier than last, lodging itself in the first week of October. This year, I'd be without my regular hiking partner(s), yet I had no intentions whatsoever to break tradition.

​Sauble Falls had been the first contender, though was quickly dismissed on the accounts that fall foliage wasn't guaranteed and, more importantly, the fact that I'd be suffering a minimum of five hours of driving, continuous or not. Mono Cliffs comparatively closer, at just sixty minutes away, and promised decent colour change as per the Ontario Parks website.

While I had been hesitating whether to undertake the trip solo, bookings for the 12 PM - 4 PM slots had sold out. The remaining options were: 8 AM - 12 PM or 4 PM - 8 PM. Given that the gradual decline of natural illumination commenced at 6 PM, with skies full dimmed before 7 PM, the latter slot was unfeasible. Thus, the earliest spot was selected.

I gritted my teeth, fully aware of my non-morning person tendencies, but presaged the peace that often came with being the early bird.​

​At 7:35 AM, we made our departure from the humble yet dynamic suburbs into the town of Mono, currently inhabited by a population of 9000 residents. As expected, traffic conditions were tranquil and uninterrupted. Traversing northbound along the 410 then on local Caledon roads was wholly different experience from the nerve-racking white-out conditions witnessed during the winter hike.

We detoured towards McDonald's in Shelburne, supposedly the destination with washroom facilities closest to our point of interest. The drive had spanned 53 minutes by this point, less than the Google Maps estimate of one hour. Routing back southeast to Mono Cliffs took another twelve minutes.

Nearing the asphalt lot around 9 AM, a sign with large, bold letters came into view: "PARK FULL" it read. Ontario Parks staff were on site to confirm whether reservations were obtained beforehand, otherwise patrons were not permitted in. As the website had cautioned, automated gates were positioned at entrance for one-way entry and exit. Access would not granted without the barcode from the confirmation email. I scanned the barcode quickly, then zipped underneath the gate before it could close. The gravel lot was mostly vacant at this time, though the west edge of the premises was already lined with vehicles. Another member of staff gestured me towards an unoccupied space at the north limit of the lot.

We proceeded to gear up accordingly, until I realized my phone had gone missing. The revelation was horrifying; I had never misplaced my phone before, nor did I think it was possible to misplace a device without ever getting out of the car. I hurriedly retraced my path from the gate to my parked vehicle on foot, praying that I hadn't dropped the device outside the gate - or worse, had it run over my entering vehicles. Nothing.

"Can you call me quickly?!" I urged.
Standing at the south end of the lot, I received neither of the two outgoing calls on my watch, which indicated that I had navigated past the Bluetooth-enabled range. Panic ensued.
Desperately pacing about, a mild vibration on my wrist informed that I had regained Bluetooth connection. There was hope after all! Again, I rummaged through the car, searching the floor as well as every nook and cranny. At long last, the device was spotted nestled between the driver's seat and central storage/armrest compartment. Immense relief washed over me - Thank goodness!!

It dawned upon me afterwards that Mono Cliffs was notorious for having no signal. The calls, I learned, hadn't gone through at all and were sent directly to voicemail. Thankfully, Bluetooth capabilities were functioning, allowing for the swift determination of location range. From my own experience(s), it is with a high degree of insistence that I recommend hiking in a buddy system and preparing survival (ie. first aid) and navigation tools accordingly.

Read Part 1 HERE !

Departing the provincial park, the single most critical next order of business was to locate the nearest washroom facilities. I was interested in neither visiting the flush-less stalls nor taking to the great outdoors as the uncivilized users of the trail had done.

Similar to the winter hike of 2022, navigating away from the site involved resorting to the in-vehicle GPS system. While subzero temperatures were not an issue this time around, the utter absence of cellular signal proved problematic. "You are offline." Google Maps had declared unapologetically.

​An attempt was made to navigate to the closest McDonald's, though we arrived at the designated to find none. My assumption was that the building had been transformed into a different property, for the in-vehicle GPS had not been updated since its original installation.

By this time, cellular signal had returned; we were able to determine all McDonald's in the vicinity. Familiar streets would soon float into view: Never had I considered annual visits to the Downtown Orangeville BIA district.

​At seeing the Farmer's Market still ongoing, I pulled into the closest street parking space in hopes of catching a glimpse of this year's offerings. Alas, only after securing parking did it occur to me that McDonald's was two blocks further.

Spotted along the perimeter of the municipal lot was an eatery. Anxiously scurrying towards the entrance, we stepped over a fallen potted plant and found the double-door entrance at the rear of the facility.

​Tap water was served in stout, cylindrical glasses. On the other hand, hot water would be served in ceramic cups decorated with various Canadian landmarks.

At long last, washrooms were within reach!! At the base of a red, carpeted stairwell were kegs of beer and gender-separated stalls. The descent was a much-appreciated change from rocky gravel, though nonetheless perceived as following the long hike. The facilities featured dilapidated doors, but was well-stocked with toiletries and mostly clean - save a long strand of hair on the toilet seat. Though, I wasn't about to complain about stress-free access to indoor plumbing.

​Shortly after being provided with menus and water, we posed our burning inquiry to the hostess: "We see that there's a Farmer's Market taking place - would you happen to know when it closes?"
"I think 1 o'clock" came back as the response.
Glancing down at my watch frantically, my heart sank a little. It was 12:38 PM.
"Did you want to go check it out first?" The hostess asked considerately.
"Yes!" We jumped at her suggestion. "Can we check it out and come back?"
"Of course you can." came her pleasant reply.

And so we left our water cups and dashed across the street towards the tents.

Vendors had varied minimally from the previous year's sighting, with the assortment comprising of handmade soaps and beauty products, cured meats, produce, and odd knickknacks. Moreover, my Bath & Body Works sheep remained dangling in the wind, a hook pierced through the upper section of its back.

We slipped through towards the residential portion of 2nd Street and First Avenue. Impressive colour change had been witnessed last year, but the same could not be said about the scenery one year later. As with other parts of the GTA, colour change was stunted, with the trees either attaining partial redness or suffering leaf fall prior to a complete chroma transformation.

My weekend site visit had proved a rather sluggish chroma change, which prompted re-evaluation of Thanksgiving long weekend plans accordingly. The atypically warm weekdays was forecast to transcend into single digit dreariness come Friday evening, much to the dismay of many. Rainfall was also cautioned, albeit in droplet form.

Essentially torn between the undertaking a grueling drive up north (without the sleepy polar bear's services) or remaining local (boring), I frequently reverted back to the Ontario Parks website for Fall Colour updates.

​Work-from-home routines were savoured, for office interferences had meant sleeping in and avoiding the calamity that was a systemwide GO Train service interruption. These opportunities were maximized with the creation of an Injeolmi Latte (better without espresso) and sampling of Inniskillin's Late Autumn Riesling, an aromatic but exceptionally dry wine foreseen to pair magnificently with shrimp pad thai.

​Flexibility in my late afternoons were reinstated, enabling attendance in two back-to-back classes at the gym. The commute towards the Hurontario and Eglinton location remains agonizing at best: while the 403 is filled with aggressive drivers even in the post-rush-hour evenings, the major intersection itself suffers endless lane closures due to LRT construction.

The first session of Boot Camp Conditioning was met with high demand. I had arrived around the 6:45 PM mark and strolled in to discover many dedicated participants queuing outside the studio. With the concurring conclusion of the earlier Zumba class, I swooped in just in time to secure my spot in the front row. Formatted to be high impact with 5 lb weights and step benches, the instructor warned of the difficulty level of the class, though did not elaborate extensively given the lack of unfamiliar faces in the room. Dumbbells were omitted for my purposes (ie. prevention of injury), though I retrieved the step bench and readied my mat next to me. The class appeared to be a salmagundi of strength and stamina, incorporating boxing-inspired moves (slow and steady and, most importantly, weighted) and some crossfit-type elements (momentum over control) in a three-round circuit. The addition of wall sits was interesting; planks to stationary runs was undeniably challenging, rendering sore shoulders for the subsequent two days. Spanning nearly 60 minutes in total, the three-round circuit would be followed by shoulder raises, lunges, bench jumps, and front/side kicks. Of course, this type of class would not be complete without some form of nonsensical commentary. Echoing about the studio were attempts at motivational ments ("Why are you stopping?! Is it because you feel pain? Keep going!"), questionable claims ("Planks are great - they are a total body workout and improve your metabolism."), and occasional form reminders ("Keep your shoulders against the wall and slide down for the wall sit."). While I enjoyed Boot Camp Conditioning more than LifeTime's Ringside, the intensity was variable without weights.

The second session of the evening was Mat Pilates, my prioritized event. I had been consciously conserving my energy by modifying many of the exercises in the previous class as to summon my all in the name of pilates. Just as before, the class comprised of great foundational moves, but simply lacked in intensity.
Nevertheless, I suffered tenderness in the upper body after the consecutive classes.

The end of an era always brings about an indescribable sense of apprehension. It is not quite worry and uncertainty, yet also not quite excitement and anticipation. Abstract recollections solidify themselves into filmstrips, flashing through the mind in milliseconds. These memories may be filled with fondness or frustration, delight or despair. Stepping beyond them into unfamiliar territory may be uncomfortable, but remaining stationary results in a perpetually vicious cycle.

After many weeks of contemplation, realization, and acceptance, Arctic Aquarium was concluded to have run its course. The decision had not been an easy one, and spanned many strenuous days and nights. The once dire hope that the sleepy polar bear would stay by my side was replaced with an urge to do the exact opposite: only by being apart could both sides prevent further damage.

Honestly, it was as many of my longtime companions has pointed out: "You're just so different." And I couldn't agree more:

• Where one was steadfast, the other was sluggish.
• Where one was pragmatic, the other was sentimental.
• Where one valued efficiency, the other valued harmony.
• Where one was outspoken, the other was cautious.

In spite of these drastic differences, attempts were made to reach a consensus. Alas, different communication styles amounted to misunderstandings - actions executed with good intentions but yielding poor results.
Tensions amassed, and were untreated in the face of stress and withering energy levels. It was simply just too hard.

Loss of trust ensued, as did loss of joy. The situation grew unhealthy. All came crashing down with a final blow: my straightforwardness. Perhaps we may have left these issues unspoken had I not be upfront in communicating. Perhaps we may not have come to an understanding that growth would be necessary on both sides to progress. Perhaps the outcome would have proved more dramatic had it been left to brew for a longer duration. (Do you wonder, do you wonder, do you wonder like I do?)

​We held a formal discussion, probably our most mature exchange to date. The visit was accompanied by a single slice of Apple Pie and Ube Crinkle Cookies from the freezer (the longer you freeze, the less they expand). Then I retrieved my belongings, at last pointing to the enmusubi (縁結び) obtained at Japan Festival just over a month ago. "Do you know what this symbolizes?" I posed the question.
"Love?"
"No, fate."