All Categories - Random Thoughts of a Quirky Blogger

Out & About #939 | Cotti Coffee Again, Season 1 Finale + One More Two-Bite Brownie Trial

10/1/2023

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."

Out & About #938 | Bronte Creek Provincial Park + Pecan Pie

9/30/2023

Thanksgiving long weekend is my personal prompt for outdoor exploration. As much as I relish the vast natural wonders the nation has to offer, the harvest season is, simply put, just wholly more inviting. The breezy, balmy conditions and striking sceneries are arguably enough to coax to any Ontarian out of their pod of mundaneness into the wild, embracing the very essence of "being one with nature".

Leading up to the three-day weekend, I had been researching areas of interest. My coworker (and fellow baking enthusiast) had spoken highly of Sauble Beach, spurring a surge of intrigue. This location was an approximate 2.5h drive northwest; being just south of Tobermory, it was closer to Lake Huron than our usual fall getaway at Lake Simcoe. Devoid of the chauffeur services of the sleepy polar bear, I had to be selective: The extensive round trip ought reward me with breathtaking views. But colour change is a natural phenomenon, uncontrolled by mankind.

I proceeded with what any s̶a̶n̶e̶ critical person would do and resorted to the Fall Colour Report by Ontario Parks. Most of the province was a steady yellow, indicating pending colour change. Alas, there was one spot with a decidedly red indicator: Bronte Creek Provincial Park.

Hurriedly preparing for a site visit, I checked only the travel time and availability of lavatories, and not the trip's potential economic impacts. Twenty minutes on the QEW later, we turned onto the Burloak Drive off-ramp. The first stop was Tim Hortons, for the obvious need for indoor plumbing facilities. Then, we navigated towards the park's sole access point off Burloak, eventually arriving at a toll house.

Admission fees would be required for all visitors, whether day use or camping. Seasonal and annual passes were also available, though only the Day Use numbers were applicable to us. This permit would enable parking on site and access to all trails and attractions beyond the campgrounds. Adults would be subject to a rate of $18, while Seniors (aged 65 and above) a rate of $14.50. There were no discounts for children under 12 years of age. Fees are taken per vehicle, rather than individual visitors, thus it is advised to carpool for maximum utilization.

Maneuvering along the perimeter of the site to Parking Lot F, we pulled into the busiest lot - which, frankly, wasn't all that busy - and secured a shaded spot on the gravel terrain.

Past the plethora of picnic tables and Spruce Lane Farm we tread. The Spruce Lane Farmhouse was closed at this time, but presumably served similar heritage value to The Bradley House closer to home. The area featured farm activities and animals, haystacks, a tractor, and even playground facilities, rendering it exceptionally family-friendly. It also led into the Trillium Trail, a short 1.1 km loop featuring Harvest Story graphics and rhyming sequences.

We greeted the cows on the field before heading in the direction of the Half Moon Valley Trail. The quad of brown and spotted species appeared sluggish and somewhat irritable, all opting to remain seated instead of grazing.

The Half Moon Valley Trail was designated as Trail 6, with copper-coloured trail markers visible along its entirety. Numbered checkpoints were also spotted at each fork and after each major elevation change. The extent of the trails were identified with extreme clarity, with closed connection points signed for "trail maintenance" and width clearly defined to prevent tick infestation or cow parsnip burns. As always, staying on the main trail is advised, especially when near steep sections by the ravine.

Elevation differences along the trail were minimal, making for a relatively easy hike. Furthermore, wooden stairwells and boardwalks were maintained very well, facilitating the trek overall. Rocks and roots along the main path were rare, but usually obvious.

View the full album HERE !

Out & About #937 | Apple Pie + Pear Galettes

9/23/2023

Apple pie is a seasonal treat. No matter how controversial the declaration may be, I am convinced that apples cloaked in a warm, cinnamon-y glaze and enveloped within flaky pastries ought be reserved for the outdoors are chilly, and leaves are crunchy beneath one's feet.

For this year's attempt, I hadn't reviewed my past notes whatsoever. I merely knew my Bartlett pears had ripened rapidly in my absence and my Ginger Golds had patiently waited one whole week for any sort of attention.

At 9 AM, I got to work.

Four pie crusts would be assembled - in two batches of two to prevent wrist injury, shoulder fatigue, and spillage over the countertop. Once flattened into round discs, they were stacked and left to reside in the fridge for roughly one hour.

Given that the project would span just one day, the process would omit the step of "thawing". Flour could be sprinkled liberally over the rolling pin and disc without resulting in unwanted cracks. Two discs would be reserved for apple pie. One disc would be utilized for pear galettes. The final disc would be set aside for latter use, likely in the application of pecan pie.

In the meantime, four Ginger Golds would be retrieved from the past weekend's farm market visit. Halving the quantity used in SK's Even More Perfect Apple Pie recipe resulted in 900 g of apple - the rough equivalent of two medium-sized, one large, and one small Ginger Gold. The quad was peeled using my peeling gadget - acquired after last year's successive Apple Mania sessions - then cores removed with a melon baller. Instead of bite-sized chunks, I took to 0.5 cm slices instead.

Out & About #936 | Koreatown Updates Feat. Snow Day + Cotti Coffee

9/22/2023

The busiest weeks pass me by with regrettable swiftness. If the mandated - albeit loosely - two days of in-office presence wasn't enough in rendering exhaustion, three back-to-back days of travelling in and out of the city were surely sufficient.

I readied myself for the days ahead with a "Military Latte" on Monday afternoon - a delightful combination of Momo Tea's Matsu Matcha and G7 Espresso. That evening, I reached for Sayuri, my first Hakutsuru nigori. Embracing sweet, creamy, and indulgent qualities, it was undeniably more enjoyable than the Superior Junmai Ginjo. (Lucky for me, it was also more economic.)

Driving into the city was a pain in itself, but navigating along the endlessly construction-filled corridors of Bloor Street served as another source of torture. I had signed up for a two-day First Aid training course at least two months prior, with full knowledge of its intended location but not its painstakingly early start time.

In order to arrive at the intersection of Bathurst and Bloor, I'd either suffer a two-hour commute by public transit, or roughly 70 minutes by car. On the first day, I was granted a drop-off.

At 8:07 AM, an introductory video had started airing. I was slightly tardy, yet not as much as the others that eventually emerged at 9 AM, and even 9:30 AM! The instructor was particular about timing, instilling guilt in nearly every one of us to maintain punctuality for breaks and start/end periods.

The first day's topics comprised of Scene Surveys, head and spinal injuries, the recovery position, CPR compressions, operating an AED, and choking. Beyond being presented with an incredulous amount of data via slideshows and short clips, we were provided many opportunities for hands-on learning. By the end of the first day, summoning a bystander from the role as a "trained First Aider" had been repeated to the point of memorization.

Following the session, I proceeded to update my K-town records.

First and foremost was the acquisition of physical funds, for Kevin's Taiyaki operated on a cash-only basis. Next was the perusal of new and established vendors in the area.

Thirstea remained
A new Korean Fried Chicken shop had opened
The former space of Put A Cone On It had become Dessert Fox
An uncharacteristically minimalist, alcohol-licensed café had opened

Out & About #935 | Dino Party, LA Fitness Woodbine + The Pho

9/17/2023

Maturing is subjective.
Aging is relative.
Age is objective.

What one party views as progression may be stagnancy for another; where one sees success may be failure to his/her neighbour. Yet, at the end of it all, life is merely a ratio of achievements vs. time.

For the first time in my life, I was invited to a children's birthday party wherein the star of the afternoon was not a member of extended family. Although my coworkers expressed surprise towards my friends already being married and establishing lives of their own, I responded with an air of blankness: "We're all approaching or achieve the age of 30 - what were you expecting?"

Naturally, I've come to associate age with lifetime achievements - myself perpetually falling behind those with professional careers and unshakable relationships. Modern society begs to differ with these traditional values, though I'd allude those opinions to unwillingness to uphold oneself to a given standard.

The journey towards Richmond Hill was not undertaken without some degree of irritation: consistently chaotic is the 404, where drivers in technology-equipped vehicles swerve into adjacent lanes without checking their surroundings (and sometimes without signalling altogether), and the Hwy 7 off-ramp, which granted me the pleasure of a van-driving, middle-aged lady diagonally drifting in front of me and crossing three lanes without any warnings whatsoever. Nothing could quite prepare me for drivers backing into oncoming traffic, or stopping mid-laneway either.
Driving in the east end of the GTA has always been unpleasant, but being subject to four different forms of driving terror within a span of thirty minutes was an utterly new experience.

The chosen location was the party room of a condominium building. Having reviewed more development applications in the past few months than my entire existence, I was already irked by the interlock corridors and one-way flow. As an experienced driver, I found the aisles sufficiently wide and signage ample and clear. For the sluggish, less skilled drivers, there was an obvious amount of incredulous confusion towards a relatively simple layout. (Clearly, the sleepy polar bear belongs elsewhere than the humble city of Sauga.)

Paved laneways aside, I managed to find the party room with minimal effort, for it was located in the lobby, just behind the security desk. Instructions provided prior to the party had also been exceptionally clear and comprehensive.

I strolled into the room to find the first few party guests, trays of food making their way towards the counter, and an extensively dinosaur-themed setting. From the photo corner to the colouring sheets to the scavenger hunt to the kids' paper cups, every element resonated with the chosen theme.

After settling in, I slowly maneuvered to the kids table and began colouring my own smiling dinosaur. Opting to serve as the role model, I adhered to most of the instructions, covering the body with green and stomach with orange. Only the background hue was adjusted as per my preference, though I made sure to indicate the selected palette for reference. It goes without saying that I also took pride in adding my name and the date to the top of the page accordingly.

While I have no offspring of my own, the gathering was a fun and profound learning experience. Of particular interest to me were the parent-child interactions, as well as the organizational efforts of the host party. Some parents dismissed opportunities for their child to summon curiosity, while others demonstrated a lack of awareness towards current events, creating a sense of disconnection.

Out & About #934 | The Big'r Apple Farm, Al Ferri and Sons Country Apple Store + Gyu-Kaku

9/16/2023

Apple season has seemingly started earlier this year. In spite of the wildfire-induced temporal changes, Ontario's assortment hasn't been noticeably impacted, as far as the standout of standard consumer. Beyond Ginger Gold, a number of other varieties had already begun picking.

Mid-September was remarkably early to commence fall activities, yet it aligned well with the rest of my schedule. Taking advantage of apple availability, we ventured to the farm closest in proximity: The Big'r Apple Farm in Brampton.

The Big'r Apple Farm was, in fact, home to smaller apples than the standard grocery store selection. While I wasn't entirely surprised given my experience at Applewood last year, I wasn't impressed that $25 for 20 lbs - and paid by cash only - was the only option available to visitors. On the other hand, admission was free, which enabled large families to visit without surrendering atrocious entrance fees.

Parking was ample, adopting the same grassy surface as Dixie Orchards, albeit starkly less green and not nearly as well maintained. Given that the absence of tractor rides, visitors would be required to trek the entire distance towards the front of the farm for apple-picking needs. Other produce, such as peppers, eggplant, and cherry tomatoes, were also spotted on site, despite bearing generally poor visuals as their indicator of freshness.

We followed the abundance of signage with poor spelling towards the rows of apples, eager to evaluate the spread on site.

The McIntosh selection was quite compact, leading to commentary of the fruit being "unripe" and "not ready for picking". Regardless of whether they were unripe or simply undersized, I wasn't particularly keen on committing to twenty pounds of the same five-ish species. The quantity was excessive even in consideration of o̶u̶r̶ ̶h̶o̶u̶s̶e̶h̶o̶l̶d̶'̶s̶ my atypically high consumption levels and pie-making intentions.

We resorted to merely sightseeing and snapping a few photos by the trees. While posing with one of the branches, a lone McIntosh detached and landed in my hand. The single, ashy-hued specimen would assume our souvenir from the trip.

Based on information acquired from reviews of Carl Laidlaw Orchards up the street - a destination home to farm animals, playground structures, and admission fees of $15 per person - we opted for a stopover at Al Ferri & Sons' Country Apple Market for our fill of produce.

The market was a wealth of apple varieties, bagged by "bushels" and "pecks", along with preserves, cheese, cider, frozen pies, and more. Prices were more than reasonable, with the smallest apple bags ranging between $6-$9.

Out & About #933 | More & More Two-Bite Brownies, TIFF Studio Ghibli Pop-Up + Halloween Chocolate

9/15/2023

Days become weeks, weeks become months, and months become, well, more than one month. Restlessness has stuck with me for quite some time now, materializing in the form of nightmares and stress-induced stunted hair growth. The worst dreams of all tend to proceed an in-office day, for the obvious fear that I may miss my GO train and arrive tardy - not that I'd be forced to make up time, being liberated from the private sector.

I particularly treasure my work-from-home days now, for they bestow upon me opportunities that'd normally be revoked:

Weeknight beer consumption (because I can sleep in the following morning)
Interactions with Larry and Mr. Button throughout the day
Impromptu baking endeavours, should inspiration hit
Flexible breakfast and lunch options - the freezer is my oyster!

Also worth noting is the freedom to undertake unplanned evening gym visits.

While my check-in count has waned in the face of fatigue, I nevertheless enjoy classes when I'm physically equipped to participate.

Creations over the week(s) were characterized by follow-up attempts at two-bite brownies. Withering determination due to defeat has never been a relatable concept for me, thus I persevere, endlessly, until a conclusion can be drawn.

1) Two-Bite Brownies, as adapted from the latest Oat Fudge Bar

The formula had originated from Sunday Baking's Mochi Brownie recipe, though scaled down in terms of sugar level and halved. It was quite delectable as the middle layer of an Oat Fudge Bar, especially when retoasted later for a soft, chocolatey core, therefore I opted to further the investigation.

The process would commence by melting 100 g of chocolate couverture and 32 g of butter in a microwave-safe bowl. Next, 46 g of granulated sugar and a single egg were whisked in. Thorough aeration was the key to a crackly surface, and I was mindful to adhere to this step. Lastly, 20 g of all-purpose flour and 10 g of cocoa powder were folded within, making for a thick, yet fluid batter that evenly filled a mini muffin pan of twelve.

Exhibited in the emerging batch was the trademark crackliness observed in past brownie creations: They were gorgeous. Unfortunately, only half of the batch could be successfully retrieved from the pan. Once again, the bottoms stuck. A somewhat clean edge could be obtained, though the bits that remained were crumbly instead of chewy.

A few days later, the brownie bites had dried out, presenting resemblance to miserable, stale cake crumbs instead of moist, chewy brownies. I deemed brown sugar to be necessary, in spite of the countless recipes gracing the Internet claiming the opposite. Even SK's recipe had shunned the need for molasses in the mix. It did, however, note a half-and-half brown sugar/white sugar rendition had been constructed for testing. I hesitated not to follow suit.

2) Two-Bite Brownies, as adapted from SK's Favo(u)rite Brownies

For my purposes, the recipe was halved, though ultimately yielded an overabundance of batter, filling my mini muffin pan beyond the brim.

Out & About #932 | 1MX Festival Toronto

9/10/2023

Compared to last year (and past years), my enthusiasm for concerts has been withering. Instead of burning joy and anticipation, I've instead found myself heaving dejected sighs and muttering, "I don't want to go." shrouded with fatigue. The candid truth is that: An absence of vacation days entail interminable periods of labour, while few artists warrant venturing into odd parts of the city at inconvenient times of the day.

I had succumbed to a sense of urgency during the ticketing process for 1MX Festival: a fellow Justin Park fan had informed me of the event, leading to the highly regrettable, non-refundable purchase. Within weeks of ticket sales commencing, the price dropped by eighty dollars. Both of us sought justice: one was appeased by the offer of complimentary Will Call tickets and tier upgrades, while the other denied all alternatives and pressed for financial compensation. Clearly, the latter was me.

Complimentary tickets would be in favour of the organizer, as to fill the seats with patrons and encourage spending within the venue. Moreover, I hadn't a single person I'd thrive in bringing along for free. (The sleepy polar bear had been eliminated from the getgo, as to preserve peace in my ears and soul.)

When my fellow festival-goer informed that she'd be taking the GO train instead of driving, I learned that carpooling was out the window. However, recalling the dreadful commuting chaos of the previous year's CNE, I was adamant about taking advantage of my personal vehicle.
In order to avoid Budweiser Stage's atrocious $35 event parking, I turned towards Green P lots in Liberty Village. Amidst my research, I'd uncover an even better solution: visitor parking within the underground garage of my coworker's residence. Situated at the east end of Liberty Village, the lot was within walking distance to the district's countless eateries and, most importantly, Exhibition GO and its underpass towards the south side of the Gardiner Expressway.

Setting foot on the interlock-filled laneways, I quickly sourced indoor plumbing facilities from Tim Hortons, then continued evaluation of my lunch options.

An Aloette Burger, pickled onions removed, was selected as the singly attractive sustenance item. After all, it was the closest choice to smash burgers when dining solo with time constraints. Within five minutes of relinquishing payment, my name was called out from the pickup window. The burger was presented in a logo-bearing paper bag, then securely wrapped within a pouch bearing the identical colour scheme and logo. The design was deserving of approval: while the exterior maintained consistent branding and visual appeal, the interior was lined with foil for insulation and leakage prevention.

Napkins were requested to facilitate on-site dining, for the bag contained neither utensils nor mouth- and finger-wiping devices. Generally speaking, the Aloette Burger was quite delectable. Sandwiched between two plush buns were ample shredded lettuce threads drizzled with a creamy dijonaise and a juicy, flavourful patty bearing mild tints of pink at its core. The inclusion of emmental cheese in its description had piqued my interest considerably, especially when noting the cheddar in other offerings. Unfortunately, this component was barely discernible: thin to an extent where it had seemed scraped off a block and allowed to settle in place on top of the patty, surface film intact.

That aside, Aloette Go had surpassed my expectations in terms of speed of delivery, ease of consumption (ie. packaging), and depth of flavour.

Rounding off the visit with a trip for dessert, assorted gummies were acquired from Bulk Barn. The morsels would serve snacking purposes throughout the show, and would be unlikely to pose security screening issues given their container-free storage method.

Shortly afterwards, I found my fellow impulse ticket-purchaser, and we trekked across the now-vacant Exhibition Place parking lot towards the intersection of Lake Shore and New Brunswick. In the forecast were breezy, somewhat overcast conditions, for which I was thankful. Any dose of humidity would have rendered the short-lived trek absolutely miserable.

It had been unknown to me, until the evening prior, that doors would open at the early hour of 2 PM. Inconsistent details across Google and the official website had led me to assume a start time of 8 PM. Email notifications had rectified this presumption, leading to an exceptionally punctual arrival.

Out & About #931 | Italy is Eataly

9/7/2023

Due to an unforeseen "smudging" ceremony, my mandatory in-office presence were, thankfully, reduced to one day. The news had been received with glee, for spending time in the humid outdoors was the least preferred way to kick off a four-day work week.

On particularly sticky days, the frigid office space prevails as a source of relief, rather than torment. Over lunch, my time in the great, homeless-filled outdoors was limited, for I dove into the Eaton Centre at the first opportunity to continue embracing A/C-filled corridors.

Perusing the three-level retail centre, I confirmed the conclusion of back-to-school promotions and spotted schoolgirl-inspired ensembles at Mango. The pairing of a white button-down, tie, and loafers were very uniform-esque, offset only with the incorporation of light wash denim and a rosy pink blazer. Meanwhile, the pinstripe two-piece skirt-and-vest combo beckoned recollection of my middle school attire: a patterned - yet not graphic - tee, a fitted black vest (which remains in my possession, mind you), and simple bottoms of either skinny or boot cut jeans. History repeats itself, as does fashion, albeit with slight adjustments to indicate the decade change.

Most notable during this mall trek was my stopover at the Adidas Toronto Lab. Beyond being embellished with LED screens, exclusive capsule collections, and colourful Toronto-exclusive artwork, the sports apparel store would also offer embroidery and graphic printing services on adidas-branded items.

Out & About #930 | Long Weekend Baking: Pecan Chocolate Chip Cookies, Matcha Strawberry Mousse + Mini Mocha Layered Cake

9/4/2023

Most people pack for cottage trips over Labour Day long weekend. Personally, if temperatures are anticipated to exceed twenty-seven degrees Celsius with humidity, then I'll pass and happily opt to spend my time indoors.

Moreover, there are plenty of chores to catch up with at home. The upcoming weekends are also proving quite hectic for me, so opportunities for "respite" ought be taken advantage of where possible.

As much as dance battles are liberating for SWF contestants, kitchen experiments assume my creative outlet - a results-oriented, conversion-involving process, but a creative outlet nonetheless.

Long weekend projects comprised of:

1) Marbled Banana Bread

Marble Banana Bread was first on the agenda, for I am hardly able to declare any better usage of spotty bananas (beyond eating them as is). The bunch of five meant that I'd be one banana short for two full loaves. In this circumstance, just one loaf was compiled with my 350 grams of banana. (Technically, I was 40 g short, but proceeded as planned.)

The amount of dry ingredients were unaltered, as was the heavy-handed inclusion of spices. With fewer bananas in the batter, the loaf was already sturdier than my regular. Given that the generous dusting of cinnamon, ground ginger, pumpkin pie spice, and nutmeg hadn't varied at all from the two-loaf edition, the slices were irrefutably perfumed with coziness. Their presence was undeniable from the moment its cross-section was unveiled.
Naturally, this also meant subdued chocolate flavours, and a generally less-banana-y profile. Nevertheless, it was scrumptious; SK's Marbled Banana Bread never ceases to impress.

2) Pecan Chocolate Chip Cookies

Pecan Chocolate Chip Cookies were also crafted out of unfulfilled cookie cravings. The dough would be derived from Sunday Baking's Levain Cookie recipe. Ingredient quantities were kept consistent, though its constituents subject to a few minor swaps:

70 g of golden yellow sugar instead of 60 g of brown sugar (simply to verify whether there would be a difference, taste-wise)
Chopped semi-sweet chocolate couverture (Surfin) instead of chocolate chips
Toasted, chopped pecans instead of walnuts

WHAT DOES "QUIRKY AESTHETICS" MEAN?

Quirky = a term that commonly refers to something/someone distinctly different and unique
Aesthetics = the visual aspect of things

Together, Quirky Aesthetics refers to the things, events, and happenings seen and perceived by this blog's creator - quirky perspectives in a visual form.

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