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The Year of the Horse has arrived! Making its annual - or historically semi-annual - return is the household favourite of Leen Go / Nian Gao. Rich and nutty from dark cane slab sugar and aromatic with the inclusion of AROY-D coconut milk, this steamed treat consistently delivers enjoyment year after year. Prepared three days in advance of New Year's Day, there was but a quarter of the round remaining by the time the 1st rolled around. We had shamelessly devoured the creation to our heart's desire. H&A sesame balls (笑口棗) from T&T and a limited edition Lunar New Year-themed bottle of Inniskillin Vidal Icewine from Costco accompanied our festivities.
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The Year of the Snake approaches steadily. Chinese New Year has been historically celebrated in our household with feasting, funds, and fiery red decorations. Nian Gao, or Leen Go/年糕, is another quintessential component of the traditional holiday. This space has seen numerous iterations of the formula, though the past few years has remained more or less consistent. I'm moderately proud of having organized the festive decorations and relocated them away from the kitchen, where they had previously found. Despite possessing a plethora of zodiac animal plushies though, the snake was, unfortunately, not a member of the existing collection. A giant pink serpent with disintegrating insides were summoned for the annual New Year Cake display, but ultimately reinstated to its dusty post on the couch shortly afterwards. The Leen Go was chewy, tasty, and not cloying in the slightest. Amusingly, this year's edition revealed itself to have drier edges. On the fourth day of consumption, microwaving would lend the centre a soft gooeyness and the edges an unmistakable sturdiness often associated with pan-fried nian gao slices. Creations of the week(end) included: 1) Orange Yogurt Cake In recent years, I've strictly purchased Astro's Balkan yogurt to pair alongside homemade granola. Its tanginess complements the crunchy, hearty profile of nuts, seeds, and oats, while its texture loose enough to crumble readily for seamless spoonfuls of yogurt and granola. Activia's vanilla yogurt did not provide the same eating experience. Despite bearing lovely base notes of aromatic vanilla, the texture was lumpy and seemingly synthetic. By reading the ingredient list, I confirmed this was indeed the case: starch stabilizer was the culprit behind the off-putting consistency. Naturally, the next step was to deplete the container in a manner that did not involve direct consumption. I turned to SK's Grapefruit Yogurt Cake. Originally, I debated the use of butter instead of oil, contemplating a modification of Ciao Kitchen's Lemon Pound Cake. However, making adjustments were not as straightforward as desired: the recipe was scaled for three mini loaf pans, exclusively relied on cake flour (which I did not have), and used under 100 g of sour cream, ultimately defeating the core objective of exhausting my yogurt supply. Reddit had advised increasing the amount of butter if using in place of oil, given that butter was comprised of both liquid and solid fats while oil was wholly liquid. But the conversion ratio was not clear, and furthermore provided solely in US measurements (cups or tbsp) instead of metric. To simplify my concurrent loaf construction project, I'd resist altering SK's cake guideline altogether - save swapping one citrus for another. The instructions were read with haste, thus compromising accuracy of the steps. My version used two bowls, along with application of cake-making principles that may or may not reveal their worth in the final product. For clarity sake, both the ingredient list and process are detailed below: Ingredients: i) Loaf
ii) Orange Syrup
Chinese New Year wasn't on my mind this year - a shocking announcement, I am aware. But comparatively more striking stressors had left me bereft of reasons to celebrate. My mind debated whether one's sheer existence incited moving forward, or whether one was required to move forward in order to continue existing. Needless to say, the festivities - and later my overall health - had been ignored altogether. I must admit: I went slightly mad during this period, with an unhealthy urge to purge depressing thoughts with soulless creative pursuit. There were countless items of affection and little time to waste. The longer those ideas bounced about my mind, the more contemplative I became, eventually expanding into more projects than both my physical abilities, diet, or freezer could sustain. 1) No-Bake Mugwort Mousse Cake On some days, you just want cake. But those days may coincide with non-hair-washing days. In those cases, no-bake cakes are the way to go; while they require lengthier chill times, they are also a convenient method of using up soon-to-expire, neutral-flavoured biscuits, such as milk and honey ones I picked up at Eataly that didn't succeed in earning a title as an item of affection in the household. Looking to revisit the mugwort-chocolate combination, I attempted a tri-layer creation of biscuit base, mugwort mousse, and chocolate glaze. The crust was sourced from Sunday Baking's Easy No-Bake Cheese Cake with Peach Jelly, using 120 g of pulverized biscuit and 50 g of melted unsalted butter. Pressing the fine mixture into three mini springform pans - recently re-discovered whilst cleaning (oops!) - the pans were allowed to rest in the refrigerator for at least thirty minutes before the subsequent layer was poured on top. The centremost layer was the trickiest, for a recipe did not exist for the flavour swap. Sunday's egg-less mousse was adapted for the dusty teal inclusion by mixing mugwort powder with melted white chocolate to form a paste, then loosening the mixture with a bit of oil - and, later, hot water, for easier incorporation. Admittedly, it was a looser consistency than desired, even after chilling overnight. Its edges did not set smoothly, resulting in a dull, uneven surface for glazing. Moreover, the glaze also dragged with it any loosened portions of mousse, causing milky trickles down the side of the cake. With panic on the horizon, I rapidly constructed a ganache to camouflage the imperfections. Instead of a 2:1 chocolate-to-cream ratio, I opted for 180 g of couverture and 149 g of heavy cream, hoping for a thick coating that would set with ease.
An excess of glaze and ganache would prevail. The glaze would be covered with cling film and placed into the fridge until a suitable use could be determined. Meanwhile, the ganache was poured over a tray of almonds - a specimen that could likely be used for decoration, or so I naively believed. During my childhood years, Chinese New Year was primarily an at-home event - either undertaken as a weekend celebration or incorporated as an after-school activity. Amongst my peers, there was minimal awareness surrounding the event; at the time, I had found a given, seeing that none shared the same ethnic background. However, with each passing year, knowledge about the holiday seems to surge at a global level. These days, it's not uncommon to find physical sources of information at Indigo or even greeting cards at the local Rexall. As the festivities become more well-known though, it has also given rise to terminology debates. Like most Chinese Canadians and Americans, I've referred to the day as "Chinese New Year". In recent years, we've reworded references to "Lunar New Year" to include other cultures that also celebrate. "Lunar" is an inclusive reference, but it should be noted that customs are vary vastly across regions within the same country, let alone different cultures and ethnic backgrounds. Both terms are valid, yet not indicative of any particular practices. Showcased on this space are my household's traditions, which are Cantonese Chinese in nature. However, there are many methods of welcoming the arrival of a new year - and to each their own. To the comprehensive cluster of celebrators, Happy Lunar New Year! And to those celebrating the Chinese way, be it with fish, dumplings, or fenglisu, Happy Chinese New Year! New Year fare spans a wide variety of items, from elaborate entrées to sweet and savoury snacks. "Smiling" Sesame Balls, known familiarly as 笑口棗, is a popular pick in our household. A tray from Summit Garden had been purchased last year for mid-day munching, but the foil container's contents was very much satiating and reeking of grease. An air fryer edition was attempted, but not by yours truly. At this point, I will declare my passive role in the construction of all featured New Year sustenance. The Air Fryer 笑口棗 were crunchy on first day, and coated liberally with sesame seeds for maximum texture. They did not split - "smile" - and adopted a denser profile overall, growing progressively rigid over the following days. This variation was modestly sweet and savoury, and thankfully nowhere near as greasy as the storebought renditions. Classic Nian Gao (or Leen Go/年糕) is an indispensable element of the New Year. Our household favourite features nutty, caramel-like tones of cane sugar in perfect harmony, aromatic coconut milk, and sublime chewiness. The formula was perfected after several years of trial and error, witnessing drastic development since the initial attempt in 2017. Now, it is my absolute favourite part of welcoming another year, to such an extent that it regularly reenters the post-CNY scene as my choice of birthday cake. While most families take to pan-frying centimetre-thick slices (with or without egg) for a grilled mochi-like finish, I gleefully delve into freshly steamed variations without reservation. The supple, subtly sweet qualities of steamed nian gao are incomparable to the stiff, tacky supermarket portions, which are only capable of being revived by additional oil. The classic New Year Cake contains a small amount of oil in its batter, with a bit more for the pan. Excessive greasing can result in a slick, irregular surface though, thus caution is advised. After a two-year, COVID-induced hiatus, the New Year Eve Market returned to Fo Guang Shan Temple, albeit subjected to a distinct reduction in scale. Instead of occupying the entirety of the basement level, the vendor count was halved - no, pared down to one third - of past years. As those with distinct preferences shall inform: Cravings are unique and exceedingly specific. On days where I yearn for chocolate, the desired format may be liquid (hot chocolate), toothsome (truffles), crunchy (clusters or chocolate bars with nuts), fudgy (brownies), or beyond these profiles entirely. For at least one week, I had contemplated the possibility of swirling three flavours into Sunday Baking's Mochi Brownie. Success had been seen with both the original in a loaf pan and swirled with matcha in a standard square baking pan. I continue to experiment with my stash of Paragon tea powders, as eager to unlock new flavour profiles as to deplete them before expiry. Commencing with the mochi layer, I exercised caution to prevent scorching of the mochi mixture. Ever since replacing our microwave, I've noticed the need to reduce reheating times by at least 20%. This mochi was no expectation, for ten seconds on full wattage had rendered it lumpy and rigid. Water was gradually mixed into the dough in an attempt to reinstate its chewy qualities. The result was acceptable, albeit thinner and retaining less structural integrity than desired. For any future mochi-crafting endeavours, it is recommended to grease the bowl beforehand. The spoon spatula pictured in Sunday's video was a great alternative to the flat scraper spatula, providing more control and kneading power. Next came formation of the batters. The original recipe called for two eggs. Despite having contemplated doubling the recipe and making two loaves (chocolate-matcha swirled and chocolate-oolong swirled), I ultimately opted to utilize three eggs instead of four. Adhering the roughly the same formula as my reduced sugar Oat Fudge Bar layer, I painstakingly prepared three batters. This was a truly tedious process. While the original chocolate layer was a breeze to prepare, Matcha and Oolong required first melting white chocolate callets and butter together, then portioning them out as evenly as possible before whisking in the respective tea powders. A total of four bowls piled in the sink, including the one for mochi. Then came the spoon spatula and three whisks. Instead of the "one-bowl, hand-mixed" format that SK often advertises, I had - accidentally, mind you - embarked on the path of more dishes. Even with each layer comprising of only 46 g of granulated sugar, the result was still too sugary for my liking. I allude this finding to the existing sugar content in the white chocolate couverture, for I had not experienced this issue with semisweet Surfin. In spite of this, the crackly surface and fragrant, chewy cross-sections were phenomenal. Fearing that the brownie would result cakey as opposed to fudgy, I removed the pan at the 48-minute mark. The underside of the centre was a bit damp at this point, though I had tested other sections of the slab sufficiently with a toothpick and deemed it done. Its crackly surface, contrasting textures, and splendid aromas were absolutely captivating. That said, peak gustatory performance lasted just one day. Witnessed on the subsequent day was an overall dampness, followed by rigid, unyielding mochi. Heating individual pieces led to disintegration of the brownie, making it an unviable option to reinstating chewiness. I quickly resolved to undertaking future trials in the warmer months, hoping for the assistance of increased humidity levels. The middle of the week saw Jinyoung's long awaited solo EP release. In the office, I could hardly reveal my excited demeanour, especially with a new member of staff seated directly before me the entire duration of the day. "Cotton Candy", as well as the other four tracks on the album were played on loop that day - both in the office and the commute home. When lunchtime arrived, I decided to venture a bit further than normal.
The past two weeks have been strenuous - no, torturous - say in the least. Periods of illumination pass me by as I, chained to my workspace yet again, proceed to deplete every ounce of eye strength and brainpower on endless emails and project to-dos. Bit by bit, I find the world about me grow dim, until there is nothing but the soft glow of string lights from my neighbour's backyard. The eyes are shut for just a moment to recuperate, then reluctantly pried open and subject to further abuse. Evenings would leave a distinct hammering in my temples: the worst of headaches indicative of a fried brain - a souless shell of an overworked junior employee. YouTube content could not be enjoyed without fatigue in the eyes, and messages could not be responded to should they involve a screen in any shape or manner. I took to bed earlier than normal, yet found minimal solace in restless fits of half-slumber. Each hour would entail a hazy gaze at the clock, followed by the dire need for sleep and the wretched inability to do so. Stress levels infiltrated into my daily routine, instilling sensitivity in the digestive system and prohibiting hair growth (short bangs prevail!). The world beyond that of a public servant is ruthless. Challenging, tense, and surely not for the faint of heart, I am eager to bid farewell to this despicable, dreary post as soon as able. I spent my days meekly browsing Instagram for some sort of inspiration, consuming media whilst unable to put forth any of my own. Larry and Snoopy interactions were observed, and my own Avocado was found to have matching attire with the armless Alonso in Japan. Breakfasts comprised of caffeine and either blue sky bran muffins or hoddeok, which I proudly declare to have devoured in their entirety! Attempts are made throughout the week to decrease screentime for the sake of preserving vision for the future. Between winter walks for CoCo's Lemon Wintermelon Tea, the caressing of Larry to the window for snow-gazing, and a bulk barn run, I gathered roughly 2 hours of breaktime throughout the week. Needless to say, this quantity wasn't nearly sufficient to restore sanity
Viewed as even more exhilarating event than the typical New Year celebration, the annual event introduces the element of tradition back into our daily lives, serving to keep us grounded amidst the vibrancy of it all. I celebrated the date by requesting the rare day off. It had doubled as a buffer for pre-CNY cleaning preparations, while also providing an opportunity to peruse Square One on the first day of lockdown restrictions being lifted. In an attempt to maximize my temporary liberation from emails and disgust, I had my eyes set on The Rec Room. Equipped in sweatpants and an airy white t-shirt, I arrived to find the establishment closed - the ultimate disappointment. Behind the gates was a notification of closure. I hung my head with a deep sigh, then retraced my footsteps to the parking garage. Had I sauntered to the street entrance of the entertainment franchise, I would have learned of a revised opening time of 4 PM - not that I would have returned at that time anyway. Back home, I drowned my frustrations in 笑口枣, small bits of fried dough coated thoroughly in sesame seeds. A few years have passed since my last one, which I recall to have sampled quite grudgingly. These were surprisingly scrumptious, proving airy instead of dense, and just sweet enough to balance the nuttiness. Not to be excluded was homemade 年糕, which made appearances in past recaps and even more frequently throughout the pandemic - most notably during off-season periods! Each iteration has seen minor tweaks, whether it be the type of cane sugar (light or dark), brand of coconut milk (we learned that individual AROY-D cans yield optimal fragrance and flavour), and even type of pan.
New Year's Day on the Western calendar prompts reflection of the past year, however Lunar New Year is anything but. Memories accumulated depict boisterous celebrations, vibrancy from every possible corner, and, undoubtedly the most pivotal aspect of a cultural celebration, scrumptious spreads of traditional dishes. Leading up to the day is a frenzy of preparatory activities, namely cleaning the house to welcome incoming good fortune; it is ̶o̶f̶t̶e̶n̶t̶i̶m̶e̶s̶ ̶ invariably my responsibility, and this year was no exception. Glimmering gold and regal red, embellished with splashes of yellow, pink, and green chromatically characterize the event's decorations. Contrary to the stark gaudiness of New Year countdown sparkles and streamers, Chinese New Year has always felt more structured in comparison. In recent years, the celebration has been commonly renamed to Lunar New Year for the sake of inclusivity; that said, CNY persists as the personal reference of choice. As opposed to our annual market visit tradition (whose streak was regrettably broken last year) and usual stopover at Summit Garden, the pandemic imposed modifications to the regular festivities. Dining in was swapped for takeout and the market visit was eliminated. Several virtual livestreams were announced to enable celebrations from the comfort of one's home, though it would be an understatement to say that such provisions simply fell short of the spirit supply.
Many have likened the arrival of 2021 to that of change and new beginnings - a departure from the restrictions imposed by the previous year. I had expressed remorse towards lost opportunities, slithered away involuntarily under the given circumstances. Looking back, it seems that new opportunities had emerged instead; amongst them were: breadmaking, DIY hair colour treatment, and virtual choreography learning, activities that would have otherwise remained unattempted with a standard work schedule and active social circle. A recent conversation with the Thai ahgase sparked memories of airport encounters, had they proven fruitful or futile. In response to my bitterness regarding a lost ASTRO high-touch chance, she made me realize that, had I purchased those concert tickets, I wouldn't have bothered with the airport excursion. And had I not endured the painstaking wait that fateful snowy morning, we would not be acquaintances today. With this in mind, I officially commence New Year preparations - Chinese New Year, that is. And I shall gladly pre-celebrate with homemade Matcha 年糕 (nian gao), which was not made by me, for the record.) Resolutions commencing from January 1st are overrated. When vision-shrouding thrills subside, reality dawns upon us once more, ̶a̶l̶l̶o̶w̶i̶n̶g̶ prompting us to act purposefully, constructively. Recounting the past several days are perils of inefficiency at work, munching on more Bokksu snacks, and heavy precipitation resulting in the dreaded snow removal process that is shovelling.
Weekends these days are generally an extension of the regular work week, with the exceptions of errands replacing email correspondence and nonstop cooking in place of site visits. The 9-to-5 working hours hold consistent.
Sparse pockets of time are sometimes allocated towards baking projects, for the process enables creativity without fear of criticism for abandoning my post in the kitchen. Dried cranberries, raisins, and unsalted, roasted almonds had been obtained on the most recent grocery run, thus prompting the realization of Oatmeal Cookies.
An accidentally heavy handful of baking soda resulted in modest dryness, though the cookies remained suitable as a hearty breakfast item.
As an afternoon snack, it paired swell alongside the 8 Man English Pale Ale - a variety I had initially anticipated to prove as bitter as an IPA.
A quick round of cleaning took place before more errands. Oh, and hair-dying at home. For the very first time in my life.
The offer had been on the line for quite some time, but it wasn't until a certain prehistoric creature swung by to relieve me of my workload that the procedure properly materialized.
Consumed whilst awaiting the reveal of rose-tinged hair was Coffee Stout and a spice-laced cider gifted by my favourite fangirl.
Zero comments were extended towards my return to the real world with a mane of revived red. It was of no matter to me; I proceeded with my lunchtime excursions about the PATH for economical snacks, errands (yes, there is always more on the to-do list), and the Plant Positivity pop-up at Union Station.
It's been an unusually quiet (gloomy?) time in the house thus far, and I was reminded of Chinese New Year festivities only upon observing the floral Shiseido tunnel at Hudson's Bay.
Mid-week undertakings were scheduled to take place by Eglinton West: research results for low-budget physical activity pointed in the direction of free drop-in classes at York Recreation Centre. And nearby just so happened to be Seara Bakery, a colleague recommendation for Portuguese egg tarts.
Located in a sidewalk-less plaza near Keele and Lawrence, the bakery-café hybrid bore a great degree of similarity to SanRemo. That said, the seating area was roomier, significantly cleaner, and more pleasant overall. A double-sided laminated menu and napkin dispenser were positioned at every table; a cartoon-esque mural of the city adorned the south wall of the establishment
We took to sharing Crème Caramel as well as a single Nata - aka the primary purpose of the stopover.
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Who Am I?Formerly an avid owner of several interest-based portals, Random Thoughts of a Quirky Blogger presents precisely the elements expected. From experiments in the kitchen to miscellaneous musings, from IGOT7 reflections to developments in transportation infrastructure, it's all consolidated here. Welcome to the raw, unfiltered side of Quirky Aesthetics. Archives
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