When we were younger and sci-fi was a relatively unexplored concept in mainstream media, we'd often be posed with the question of time travel: Would you time travel if it was an available option? Or would you rather revisit the past or see the future?

I continued to debate this in my adult years, ironically engaging in lengthy discussions about the very phenomenon that is the passing of time. In all cases, I chose to go back in time, for I enjoyed uncovering an unknown future. A former friend further pointed out that the future can be altered because of present decisions, and that there is no guaranteed outcome even with time travel.
But of course, as mere mortals in this universe, we can't help but wonder: What if I did this? What if I acted earlier? What if I had taken a different path? What if I had taken advantage of this opportunity? The list goes on.

The past decade has affirmed time and time again (no pun intended), that time is finite. Time waits for no one.
Aging is a cruel process, for those experiencing firsthand and observing from an outside lens. Helplessness is experienced all around.

What if I went sooner? Would things have changed?
Was I doing an injustice by baking instead of leaving immediately?

​If there ever was a creation that defined the complexity of such emotions, it would be those showcased in this post - not because of their composition, but rather their association to adjacent happenings. They were crafted amidst the first heavy snowfall of the year. As if on cue, the branches in my backyard tree shed their leaves the morning after. The day that we thought was far in the future had arrived as abruptly as the winter storm. Deep down, I knew it was inevitable; tolerating the load in actuality was another story altogether though.

​In the days that followed, the new reality settled in. Emotions only intensified when guided towards old photos - and worse, videos. The footage solidified a scene that no longer existed, and the feelings were treacherous to bear. Mariah Carey's 2008 track describes it better than I ever could: a pain so debilitating that it felt unreal.

Except it was. All of it was.
The loss, the inevitable outcome, and the new reality.

These were the two creations in question:

1) Salted Caramel Lime Bar

I needed a medium to utilize my remaining four wrinkly limes. The initial concept lay with a lime curd in a less-than-flaky pie crust; in reviewing Sunday's bountiful roster of recipes though, I shifted gears towards a Lemon Bar - or, in my case, a Lime Bar.

a) Shortbread Base

Ingredients:

• 100 g AP flour
• 100 g unsalted butter
• 40 g sugar

In place of the no-bake graham cracker crust I had been contemplating, a shortbread base was discovered to not only be easier and quicker, but eliminate the need for a food processor altogether (ie. fewer dishes!). While Sunday had opted to use the aforementioned apparatus, I had reservations towards the motor capacity of my small device. Manually blending flour, butter, and sugar did not pose any challenges for me, as all pie and tart crusts involve the same method. The sole difference was reliance on hands as opposed to being assisted with a pastry blender.

In Sunday's recipe, the dough was transferred from the food processor directly into a lined baking pan. I adhered to the same process, however found it incredibly difficult to distribute the layer evenly. Although it would result in one more step, I'd recommend transferring the shortbread dough to a Silpat and rolling to the shape of the baking pan using levelling bars as guidelines. Alternatively, rolling within a wrapped parchment packet should yield the same desired uniformity, albeit with fewer items to wash afterwards.

The shortbread was baked at 350 F for 25-30 mins, rotating halfway through. In my new oven, the convection setting quickened this process. By the point of removal from the oven, the base had achieved a darker hue than desired. After all, it would continue to undergo a second bake to set the filling layer.

b) Lime Curd

Comprising of a higher quantity of flour to egg yolks, the lime curd layer was notably thicker than a custard, thus more susceptible to being overbaked.

Ingredients:

• Zest of 4 limes
• 180 g granulated sugar
• 4 eggs
• 60 AP flour
• 120 g lime juice

To maximize my limes, I zested and juiced them all, but did not alter the total amount of liquid. 1 lime yielded 46 g of juice, while 4 limes a total of 157 g of juice. Suffice to say, some of the limes had likely shrivelled since purchase, therefore harnessing less moisture.

The curd layer was also baked as directed, at 350 F for 40 mins. Within the first 10 mins though, the surface began to darken drastically. At 20 mins, I rotated the pan to account for the fan-forced convection setting. For the final 10-15 mins of baking, a sheet of foil was loosely placed on top to prevent further browning. In hindsight though, I could have likely reduced the baking time to 30-35 mins, for the cross-section revealed premature coagulation and a reduction in silkiness.

c) Salted Caramel Topping

Any dark spots on the surface of the Lime Bar wouldn't have mattered from a visual perspective, for the creation was sealed with a layer of salted caramel sauce - an atypical addition to utilize my remaining 100 g of heavy cream.

Ingredients:

• 100 g brown sugar
• 9 g corn syrup
• 35 g unsalted butter
• 100 g warm heavy cream
• 1 g salt

As a consequence of brown sugar sticking the sides of the saucepot, I believe I lost about 5-7% by volume. Nevertheless, the recipe produced enough to cover the entire surface of my 8 in x 8 in slab.

The salted caramel sauce made for a tacky, yet thoroughly enjoyable first bite. Achieving clean cuts was challenging, but the innovative combination was nonetheless aromatic and enjoyable. It is unlikely that I will undertake a second iteration of this particular composition, however am not opposed to shortbread bases, more custardy citrus curds, and salted caramel in other applications.

2) Mint Chocolate Ganache Cake

Since hoarding a tray of cocoa powder earlier this year, I've since forgotten about their imminent expiry. A chocolate cake with a ganache montée filling served to utilize both cocoa powder and heavy cream.

a) Mint Chocolate Ganache Montée

Ingredients:

• 109 g white chocolate couverture
• 70 g dark chocolate couverture
• 268 g heavy cream
• 5 g mint extract

Inspired by Girl Guide Thin Mints and in the name of the holiday spirit, the ganache would adopt a mint chocolate profile. To prevent the mixture from becoming overly astringent due to my 57% couverture, a blend of white and semisweet chocolate was used.

• 179 g chocolate couverture : 268 g heavy cream = 1 : 1.5

Albeit unintentional and only resulting from ingredient amount limitations, a 1 : 1.5 ratio of chocolate to heavy cream formed the ganache. Frankly, these proportions worked in my favour, providing a sturdier ganache for filling.

b) Chocolate Cake Sponge

I then turned to Sunday Baking's Chocolate Cake recipe for the cake base. I then turned to Sunday Baking's Chocolate Cake recipe for the cake base. Instead of splitting the batter between two 6 in pans, my new 8 in aluminum pan was summoned for the task. (Spoiler: It did an amazing job!) I likely hadn't required a bake time of 30 mins though, as the convection oven caused the surface to scorch slightly in the final 7-10 mins.

Ingredients:

• 2 eggs
• 180 g water
• 180 g whole milk
• 180 g canola oil
• 200 g granulated sugar
• 8 g baking soda
• 4 g baking powder
• 2 g salt
• 60 g cocoa powder
• 220 g cake flour

Yield: One 6 in cake with two tall layers OR One 8 in cake

Directions

1. Preheat oven to 320 F.
2. Sift dry ingredients in a large bowl.
3. Combine water, milk, oil, eggs, and sugar in a separate bowl.
4. Mix wet into dry 2-3 additions.
5. Bake at 320 F for 30 mins.

c) Easy Chocolate Buttercream

Finishing the cake was an Easy Chocolate Buttercream, again derived from Sunday Baking. The formula was straightforward, extremely spreadable, and incredible rich. It didn't take many bites to realize why the cake and frosting layers were drastically different in depth. The textural contrast and intensity were delightful when paired alongside the comparatively airier whipped ganache.

Ingredients:

• 100 g unsalted butter, room temp
• 60 g icing sugar
• 25 g cocoa powder

• 120 g melted dark chocolate (60%)
•  ̶5̶0̶ ̶g̶ ̶h̶e̶a̶v̶y̶ ̶c̶r̶e̶a̶m̶ ̶ 20 g milk

​Overall takeaways include:

• The convection oven requires rotating of the pans to encourage even baking and preventing overdone-ness.
• Italian Meringue Buttercream is a comparatively silkier option to the Easy Buttercream, however persists as being fundamentally technical, labour- and time-intensive, and presents challenges in terms of controlling sweetness levels.

​Given the extenuating circumstances, neither of these creations made their way to the office. Partly frozen and mostly gifted to a former coworker, the conditions permitted just brief periods of sampling in their optimal state.

​Each day that followed felt a bit different. Countless tears were shed, first from shock, next extreme sadness, and then out of reminiscence. My emotional wellbeing directly impacted food intake, as I discovered a loss of desire to eat or drink. Handling day-to-day tasks suddenly felt like a chore. There was further uncertainty regarding potential changes to upcoming flight plans.

​I was mindful to keep intake of sweet treats to a minimum, for the state of being truly alone has its consequences: There is no one to keep the show running.

​Barebone meals were prepared for the sheer goal of survival, for I wished to refrain from exerting excess energy into basic needs, as well as investing funds in groceries that may eventually go to waste.

​A last-minute decision to attend an Intermediate pilates class at The Pilates Body had been an informed one. Having been overwhelmed by thoughts for majority of the day, I sought relief from the external world.

The instructor commenced the class by asking, "How are you feeling today?". Physically, I was fine, as work-from-home life tends to be sedentary. My state of mind resided at the opposite end of the spectrum. Responding accordingly, the instructor took my self-professed stressful state into consideration and began the session with easy stretches to prepare the body after a long day of stagnancy. My impromptu choice had led to an accidentally private and splendid class session, wherein some familiar moves were incorporated, but the availability of varying resistance levels maximized challenge to the mind and body.

Having regulated my breathing for the hour-long session, I felt significantly better after the class. Before bidding farewell, the instructor and I bonded over badminton injuries and KT tape usage. "Your muscle awareness is amazing." she had remarked, giving rise to the discussion about former and present sports engagement.

​As another round of snowfall began to descend, I looped into the Staples lot for a gander at discounted packing cubes. It didn't take long before soft plushies and holiday gift boxes led me off course, though.

A closer coworker admitted she was shocked to see me in the office given my circumstances. Truthfully, the safer option was to remain at home in case of any unexpected meltdowns. Devoid of a valid reason to not meet the corporate policy though, I lugged myself to work. Being in the wild reminded me that tears could not be shed. The workplace environment demanded my continual operation, whether it be at full capacity or not.

Admittedly, immersing myself in the outside world helped a little. Being greeted upon entry and shown compassion were two minor elements that contributed towards improved spirits. Though the smiles did not wholly reflect my inner world, they weren't completely inaccurate either. The office helped to distract me and keep gloomy thoughts at bay in the interim.

Mall walks were another aspect to anticipate. Since Remembrance Day had passed, the mall began to embrace holiday decorations throughout the corridors.

Holt Renfrew had also rearranged their Jellycat display to make room for a mastermind pop-up.

​It didn't take long before I returned to the surprisingly forgiving exterior. A Biscoff Boston Cream was obtained out of curiosity before heading back. Unfortunately, the seasonal release revealed itself to be a stiff lump of dough filled with awfully synthetic custard and a Biscuit crumble topping reminiscent of pork floss.

When I returned to the office for my final day of the week, as well as my last day before an extended break, a fellow floormate informed me of the nearby Cooksville Creek Trail, advising me to take a stroll whenever possible. I expressed doubt towards completing the trail over the span of a one-hour lunch period, yet curiosity led my footsteps regardless.

Passing by ongoing construction at The Exchange, I grimaced at the clouds of dust but, found distinctively comfortable walking conditions to continue the stroll. From the exterior of the Sussex Centre, Gyu-Kaku was discovered to have departed the main floor in favour a different BBQ spot, Gyuyaki. Unfortunate was this realization, for I had plenty of unredeemed points for the space's predecessor.

​Continuing across past the Absolute World Towers and over cracked sidewalk bays, I successfully located the entrance to Cooksville Creek Trail on the east side of Burnhamthorpe.

The asphalt path led me to a beautiful, quaint scene representative of late autumn. Most of the leaves had fallen, yet the above-seasonal temperatures had kept them from withering. Persistent precipitation rendered them damp and spotted as opposed to shrivelled and crunchy.

​Running adjacent to Cooksville Creek, the residential trail offered breathtaking views embodying the essence of fall. Without having venture to beyond the GTA, or even City Centre, one had the opportunity of laying eyes on gold and amber foliage, clear, rushing waters, and families of ducks. The residential trail was paved, lined with benches and lampposts, and provided connections to Mississauga Valley Road and the Mississauga Valley Community Centre, constituting a highly suitable route for visitors of all ages.

​My adventure was limited to the duration of lunch, however even the brief, brisk stroll had instilled a sense of peace within. There were parallels to be drawn between life and nature: Change was inevitable; neither the shedding of leaves nor the rushing waters of the river could be stopped. As the glimmering waters of the creek reflected back towards me, I took a deep breath - probably the longest all week - and exhaled slowly. Interacting with the outside world after a day of simmering in my own thoughts had been beneficial.

Along the way, Starbucks' holiday menu drew me into the Delta Hotel lobby.

A Cranberry Bliss Bar was obtained for the first time in years, and actually found enjoyable. The blondie base was softer and less sweet than I recalled. Meanwhile, the cream cheese frosting was seemingly thicker, creamier, and also less cloying.

​Holiday-themed paper bag in hand, I continued towards my final stop of Gong Cha.

While the intention had been to sample the newly released Biscoff beverages, one look at the price list caused me to halt in my tracks. Instead, I opted for two Felix Picks to obtain the themed keychain. Frankly, the merchandise quality was subpar and the drinks mediocre at their asking prices. Brown Sugar Milk Tea with Pearls was passable, though the Milk Foam Oolong Tea with Coconut Jelly was beyond abysmal.

​In the early evening hours, I proceeded with a grocery run for frozen, ready-to-eat meals. Considering my imminent departure, it was unwise to procure any perishables after all. I coincidentally crossed paths with our pharmacy technician in the bakery section, which gave rise to a short-lived but smiley exchange. Albeit brief, the interaction reminded me that people are not easily forgotten. Even standalone encounters can be memorable, and others often think back fondly to those moments in time.

​Gums scraped, I headed to a nearby Tim Hortons for a Double Stacked Farmer's Wrap and Chocolate Hazelnut Muffin. The location appeared to be recently renovated, for it incorporated a merchandise display shelf near the order counter and a Tims Financial ATM. Consistent with most Tim Hortons locations, the sight of a cardboard signage-wielding unhoused residents wasn't uncommon either.

The return of the Chocolate Hazelnut Muffin as a winter exclusive offering was one of the best decisions undertaken by the fast food franchise. The specimen was as delectable and memorable as it was the first time around, and surely worth every penny. (As a side note, the January 2023 price was $2.29. Following inflation, the current price is $2.59.)

​Five days following my household tragedy, I continue to be plagued with thoughts. It would be an understatement to say that loss is hard. Still surreal in every way, some moments are recalled with fondness, while others excruciating and unbearable. Any previous accounts of work-related stress cannot compare. Grief is not a linear experience, and neither is its recovery.
I must confess that I don't think I've ever felt pain like this. I never knew it was possible to continually shed tears, as if they are derived from a never-ending supply, nor simply break down without warning. Hearing these cries echo back in an empty room intensifies the sorrow. At times, it feels like my ribs are closing in on me, holding a death grip around my organs and causing breathing to be difficult. I am surprised to not have swollen eyes and sunken cheeks at this point, for my external appearance does not align with my internal state of being. There is an unmistakable hollowness - newly established and unforeseen. For a constant presence in your life to suddenly vanish, one is inclined to wonder, "How will I go on now?".

The kind words and varying forms of consolation from my support network have been greatly appreciated. Some have shared their own memories and accounts, while others extending open offers to assist in any way possible. I shall exclude my browsing partner from this selection, for constant attempts to rob me of grieving periods are merely infuriating - intrusive and tactless.
By some miracle, my vacation plans have not been impacted, yet I wouldn't have been dismayed if they had been scrapped entirely. Hardly am I in vacation mode; financial impacts would have been the only detriment.

As these woeful, disconnected sentiments seep into this space, I am aware that the entity most important will not have the opportunity to read them.

As the days countdown to my short-term departure from the province, it would be an understatement to say that I've become increasingly overwhelmed with the duties imposed upon me in the workplace and the outstanding list of items demanding attention in my personal life.
Work-life balance? What a joke. It doesn't exist in this job.

Packing isn't the only task to tend to prior to travelling. Cleaning, clearing the fridge of any perishable items, planning for days of absence, and planning for the days immediately following return further entail tasks that most of the population seem to defer until the happy days have past. My approach often leads to future me appreciating the efforts of past me, consequently instilling a sense of relief when comparatively chaotic times arise.
For the time being, I've started to utilize ingredients whose expiry dates precede my return.

The cake was crafted with the aim of using up my last block of cream cheese. I opted to adapt my most successful iteration of Biscoff Basque Cheesecake, swapping Biscoff spread for black sesame paste. Seeing as Sunday Baking's original recipe had taken to approximately 1.5 blocks of cream cheese (360 g), the amounts were to be scaled down accordingly. Amidst the arithmetic and agitating a new jar of the unsweetened ingredient, I had accidentally doubled the proportion of black sesame. Having realized the blunder only when my batter emerged extremely dark and viscous, a tad more heavy cream was added to maintain fluidity. Instead of weighing out 2 of 3 eggs and 1/3 yolk, I merely settled for 2 whole eggs.
​
Ingredients:

• 240 g cream cheese
• 86 g granulated sugar
• 120 g unsweetened black sesame paste * too much!!
• 2 eggs (instead of 3 eggs + 1 yolk)
• vanilla extract
• 90 g heavy cream
• pinch of salt

​Yield: One 6 in cheesecake

​My new oven has excelled at maintaining low temperatures for fermentation, dehydration, and general baking purposes (cookies, loaves, and the like). However, it has recently come to my attention that it struggles to achieve and maintain high heat settings. Any temperature over 400 F is tragically difficult to sustain.
The basque cheesecake was supposed to bake at 425 F for 20 mins, rotating halfway to account for the fan-forced convection. My oven thermometer hovered at a consistent 400 F, indicating that the internal cavity had never truly reached the specified temperature.

When the surface persisted pale - or grey, in this case - an outstretched pointer finger drew close to the Broil function. The oven offered "Low" and "High" Broil settings. Erring on the side of caution, "Low" was selected. For the next two minutes, I'd crouch near the viewing window to monitor the process.
Dark spots began to emerge at the centre of the cake, then along its edges. After about four minutes, including Broil pre-heating time, a uniformly darkened surface prevailed. I cut the heat and removed the cake. Still somewhat jiggly at its core, I knew it was done.

​Over the next two hours, the tin was allowed to cool until room temperature. Then, it was transferred to the fridge, where it resided, uncovered, for about two more hours. Although Biscoff V1 had involved an overnight chill, the increased amounts of black sesame paste (fat + binder) and whole eggs (protein = binder), enabled a reduced chill time.

The result was a silky, creamy cake that was lightly cheesy at first bite but largely nutty and bordering astringency due to the high proportion of black sesame paste. On the first day of sampling, the slice still beckoned at the signature creaminess of a basque cheesecake. After chilling overnight though, the flavours became more uniform and the consistency less yielding. Second day sampling featured a proper Black Sesame Baked Cheesecake - slightly sweet, slightly cheesy, and comprehensively nutty.

It is worth noting that a 6 in aluminum pan was used instead of my usual 7 to 8 in Instant Pot Round Cake Pan. The choice in pan material caused the cheesecake to remain level after baking, thus minimizing the settlement after cooling and chilling. This meant that, although the cake did exhibit surface cracking, these fissures were not exaggerated by the prominent doming observed when using nonstick cake pans. The minimized delta in height had also ensured even broiling in the final steps of baking.

Strawberry Jam

Frozen strawberries can technically be kept in the freezer for eternity. But expiry dates do not dictate when cravings surface.