Needless to say, I was avid to recreate the concoction.
Out & About #1040 | Roaming Yonge/Dundas, Attempting Biscoff Storm + Continued Cleaning Operations10/5/2024 With my browsing partner halfway across the world, I've been exposed to snippets of life in other continents. Living vicariously through media received, I was introduced to Biscoff Storm. Created by Hungry Jack's, the Australian equivalent of Burger King, the soft serve creation was akin to a McFlurry, with the exception of retaining the clear delineation of soft serve and crushed biscuit. Needless to say, I was avid to recreate the concoction. While, in hindsight, obtaining a Vanilla Cone from McDonald's would have been the easiest method of obtaining a soft serve base, reluctance towards leaving house, in conjunction with a soon-to-expire carton of heavy cream, convinced me to craft the creamy foundation from scratch. Into the stand mixer I poured about 200 g of heavy cream, allowing it to be whipped until reaching soft peaks. Truthfully, in all my attempts to date, I've consistently found the consistency of machine-whipped heavy cream to inferior to when using a hand mixer. Often is the formula lumpy and on the verge of separating, rather than voluminous and smooth. Overwhipping is the probable cause, for textural evolution is trickier to identify when observing from afar. Adopting a ganache-making approach, 25% of white chocolate by weight would be used to stabilize the cream. I'd advise against this method though, for the result was sickeningly sweet in its soft, pliable state. Of course, the recommendation may be altered should one opt to incorporate a bitter or pungent flavour like matcha, coffee, or ginger. Generally speaking, the dessert was decent when frozen, but cloying, excessively rich, and devoid of complexity immediately after compilation. Stabilizers are non-negotiable, I have learned. Ontario weather is deceiving. The forecast promised sunshine and temperatures hovering about the low 20s; in actuality, the morning revealed overcast skies and a slick coat of humidity that wouldn't persisted for the entirety of the day. Being the heat-loathing species that I am, I pondered once again when the arrival of autumn would come - When would we be granted conditions suitable for outdoor physical activities? I picked up a Nescafé Rich Instant Coffee sample at the Bay Concourse, then continued on my way. There was no shortage in free fare in the office. From early Halloween treats of Mars, Coffee Crisp, and KitKat to my baking coworker's rendition of SK's New York Crumb Cake to the wholly unexpected arrival of a coffee filter machine for office use. By the mid-morning, I was absolutely stuffed. My standard breakfast of oatmeal aside, the New York Crumb Cake had proven excessively greasy, with a sugary topping that, albeit crunchy, did not adhere. Few variations in climate were observed across the morning. The outside world flitted between overcast and pockets of sun, but nevertheless remained humid and too warm for brisk walking (or cycling). There weren't any errands pressing, nor particular destinations of interest.
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For the past month, museum and gallery outings have somehow become a regular outing for my coworker and I. Starting from the Bata Shoe Museum to the AGO to the Free Tuesday Nights at the ROM, the trips have revolved primarily revolved around the downtown area on mandatory office days. Upon observing an ad for Aga Khan Museum's 10th anniversary celebrations, I presented the prospect of a weekend visit to my coworker. The two-day event would include complimentary admission to the Main Floor of the museum, as well as $10 discounted admission to a rotating immersive exhibit, LIGHT: Visionary Perspectives. Her enthusiastic response led us to plan for a Saturday sojourn. We'd travel separately, given that we were coming from opposite directions. While the TTC had miraculously enabled her early arrival, my commute along the 403, 401, and DVP were nowhere near as smooth. Congestion upon congestion - plus a car lodged in a ditch - had resulted in nearly sixty minutes of driving. By the time I exited the DVP, I was more than ready to call it a day. Aga Khan Museum was not located in convenient coordinates whatsoever. Google Maps had directed me to the underground parking garage. In fear of paid parking being enforced, I exited the loop and entered through the main access path. There, members of security directed me back to the garage, confirming that the gate would remain open and my stay would be complimentary. Re-routing back to the garage, it was indeed confirmed that neither a key pass nor proof of payment would be required. The drive aisles were incredibly narrow - and even narrower still in the presence of the local population's abnormally large, wide vehicles. Behind the wheel were those possessing the most obscene maneuvering skills observed in suburban Toronto. At the very least, plenty of security had been positioned on site to facilitate traffic flow. The below-grade garage would connect to Aga Khan via a sloped corridor illuminated with LEDs and Museum highlights. A numbered ticket was bestowed upon me by a member of staff at the top of the corridor. Residing on the basement level would were bathroom facilities along with servicing rooms. These stalls were noted to be far cleaner and more spacious than those on the ground floor, likely due to frequency of use. Residing on the basement level would were bathroom facilities along with servicing rooms. These stalls were noted to be far cleaner and more spacious than those on the ground floor, likely due to frequency of use. The Main Floor featured common art and culture institution elements of a ticket booth, gift shop, and plenty of signage promoting celebratory activities and performances. In spite of the museum's tall ceilings, the establishment merely spanned one floor and a half (the secound level did not utilize the entire floor space) - the decision to replace additional exhibition grounds with tall glass windows for light appeared to be intentional. I gradually made my way towards the exterior of the building. Upon stepping outside, I was met with the most breathtaking courtyard - Aga Khan Park. Although my drive from the west had been grey and dreary, the skies of Toronto had revealed cloudy swirls against a backdrop of luminous blue. Sunshine could be even be perceived sporadically bits of the stay. Weather was perfect. Truly remarkable was the scene that lay before me: an unobstructed view of Aga Khan Museum and Aga Khan Park, surrounded by fountains so clear that the skies and sophisticated architecture were reflected with utmost clarity. The contrast of off-white tile, glass, shiny waters, and lush shrubbery had me starstruck. Elegant yet lively, I found myself strolling about the aisles with absolute awe and admiration. Basking in the magnificence of it all, I had momentarily forgotten about providing my coworker an update regarding my arrival. We soon found one another outside the main entrance, though, then decided to head inside for the 12 PM Cake Cutting. View the full album HERE !
Even before embarking on the day, I knew a strenuous schedule lay in store for me. Adorning ahga-attire was mandatory. Of my many merchandise tees on hand, I sought out comfort in my thoroughly worn Eyes on You t-shirt, pairing jeans and sneakers to account for the round of errands that would precede the concert. BamBam's AREA 52 cap, the beaded Jinyoung bracelet from my coworker, and asymmetrical feather earrings would seal the look. I was now ready. The Thai ahgase and I had agreed on a 12 PM meet-up at Yorkdale. While I departed late but arrived sooner than expected, she was not only late but further requested stopping for Starbucks before continuing. Despite my ceaseless concerns of the kiosk being amongst the slowest of all locations, she insisted on coffee. Meanwhile, my plans for us to collectively obtain coffee from IKEA would be delayed/dismissed. Lo and behold: the Starbucks app estimate was wrong and we hovered about the kiosk for an additional seven minutes before gradually descending back to the parking garage When the drink was finally delivered, I asked the barista for an empty cup, causing him to glance over at the Thai ahgase's drink, thinking that we'd be sharing the drink. He warily handed me a Tall cup, to which I grimaced but did not pry further on the basis of time. Frankly, the size assumption was not appreciated; other locations would hand you a Grande cup in the case of water requests or ask whether a preferred cup size exists. Yorkdale was a driving monstrosity for those that do not frequent the area. Departing the garage, I realized that the 401 on ramps had changed location. Detouring about Dufferin, I eventually found my way towards Sheppard and continued to IKEA on local roads. September 22nd, which coincided with Jinyoung's birthday, would mark the third and final instance of the Swedish homeware store's Hej Days promotions. Truth be told: I was none too keen about back-to-back weekend visits. However, I was irritated that the items I had just purchased had gone on sale! Hej Days was, in essence, both an instigator and act of redemption for more Rykta bins.
Read Part 1 HERE ! A schedule had been released ahead of time, though, given the organizer's treacherous lack of planning to date, we had reservations towards whether events were to follow through as planned. Lineup for entry was slated to take place as early as 5:30 PM. By the time we pulled into the asphalt lot of Global Kingdom Ministries around 5:50 PM, a decent-sized crowd had clustered about the entrance. There were well over 50 people, we noted, which meant that those huddled up front consisted not only of SVIP attendees. As predicted, most were dressed in black and red, as to maintain consistency with the album colours of BamBam's latest album. There was an abundance of parking and, of course, no need to pay. I pulled into one of many spots in the lot while the Thai ahgase continuously expressed her anxieties. Suggesting that she determine the answers to her ceaseless inquiries about tier categorization and queuing, I'd hover near my trunk to source the Pineapple BBQ Pork Bun from Red Sail Boat Bakery. The sweet-savoury parcel would constitute my (exceptionally early) supper. I quickly wolfed down the bun before 6 PM, then joined the lineup. The round was, peculiarly, still warm, despite being contained in my cooler bag for a few hours. Perhaps it was hunger, but the bun was perceived as quite the delicious bite. Plenty of cha siu was found within the specimen, then laced with a delightful cookie crust. Featuring a surface sturdier than Akko, I needed not worry if I'd lose the topping while eating on the go; the bun was similarly sturdy, yet far from dense. We had a winner! The schedule had noted an entry time of 6 PM. But, as expected, we weren't ushered inside until at least 6:10 PM. SVIP ticket QR codes would be verified at the door; meanwhile, proof of VIP tickets would be dismissed. Moving single-file between the double doors to the reception desk, we were provided red wristbands, BAMESIS lanyards with SVIP designations, a tour poster, and BamBam photocard of choice. Being amongst last ones in the queue, our choice of photocards was limited to two. That said, my complaints are few, for the quality of the bonus items was of a good caliber. VRS Production was unapologetically Filipino in every way possible, with not a single team member not displaying the signature cheesy tendencies. Photographers and videographers would capture the entry process of the fans, as well as the transition to the upper level for the fansign event. It was with much relief that I found clean, brightly-lit corridors and bathrooms on the both the upper and lower levels of the building. I had envisioned a layout to be akin to Notre-Dame, wherein the seats were uncomfortable wooden benches and indoor plumbing facilities were nowhere in sight. The Thai ahgase scoffed, clarifying that Notre-Dame was a cathedral and that churches indeed possess bathrooms. The location for the SVIP Fansign was a space no larger than the standard classroom. A table and tour poster were set up at the front of the room, lights positioned on either side. Fabric-lined chairs would be arranged some distance away from the table, in five rows of ten chairs each. After all, the SVIP upgrade was limited to just 50 VIP ticketholders. We found ourselves filing into the last row, eyes glazing over a tour poster with sticky note instead of the BAMESIS albums we were promised. The team had apparently "ran out" of albums, thus supplemented the last two rows with "partial albums" and tour posters. The "partial" albums involved "sharing" a single album between two people, in which the CD could be signed by one and the photobook by another. Needless to say, this sent the last twenty unlucky fans into an uproar. The SVIP upgrade had promised a benefit of two albums, leading most, if not all, fans to refrain from brining their own copy from home. These obvious frustrations prompted an interim resolution: Somehow from somewhere, more albums would emerge. Each SVIP ticketholder would be compensated with one full album; the second album would supposedly be shipped out after the show, though further details were not provided. Pens and sharpies would circulate the room to allow fans to write down their name for the fansign. We were informed that BamBam would copy the name - and/or message - on the sticky note onto the chosen page for signing. Also discussed was the procedure: Each SVIP ticketholder would be entitled to one minute of interactions with BamBam. Upon nearing the end of the time slot, a "15 seconds left" sign would be raised. This sign would then be flipped to reveal "Times Up" at the end of the sixty-second period. "Wow!" I turned to the Thai ahgase with shock, "A whole minute!!" Shortly after settling our album concerns, BamBam strode into the room without warning. By this point, it was 6:30 PM. Each row would be summoned in sequence and instructed to queue along the side of the room. Then, one by one, the fans would be gestured towards the table and the timer would be started. Members of staff and local security hovered about the perimeter of the room, yet none invaded into the signing zone. In stark contrast to previously attended events, staff did not situate themselves between the artist and fans, nor did they touch/push/shove aggressively. One member of staff hovered next to BamBam, but the scene was otherwise very intimate and exclusive.
Hangovers are hardly a happy time. Though, I had none to blame but my own series of questionable decisions that stacked impacts of dehydration from outdoor physical activity on intense alcohol intake in a short span.
Ginger helped tremendously in curbing feelings of nausea. Gnawing on the root brought me back to reality, allowing for somewhat of a functional presence instead of headaches and pure suffering. Light meals and warm broths were sought out, as was a dessert of Black Sesame Glutinous Rice Balls in a yellow sugar syrup heavily infused with the anti-inflammatory root.
With Monday constituting a "catch-up day" after my Sunday recovery, my mandatory in-office presence arrived swifter than expected, or desired.
Morning skies were beautiful with cascading ribbons of clouds across an azure background. The presence of such atmospheric masses promised some degree of sun cover, which, in turn, convinced me to undertake another cycling adventure in the city.
My destination of the day would be EATALY. Seeing that Saletember was still underway and I had no immediate errands in the area, I decided to traverse along University towards Bloor. The northbound stretch along University was brimming with potholes, hot dog cart smoke, and pedestrians that somehow felt entitled to jaywalk before oncoming cyclist traffic. Conditions would improve drastically once past College Street, however.
Queen's Park Crescent featured unidirectional curbside cycle tracks separated from vehicular traffic with concrete barriers and bollards. Despite permitting two to three lanes of traffic on either side of the Legislative Assembly building, biking was exceptionally peaceful along this stretch. Although I was heading uphill, the abundance of street trees ensured plenty of shade, while uninterrupted travel gave rise to breeziness. Particularly worth noting was the decidedly early colour change of foliage. A handful of crunchy, gold-tinted leaves had descended onto the grassy boulevard and along the gutters, making for beautiful autumn scenery. As with any urban setting though, cyclists must be mindful of turning vehicles and pedestrians that meander onto the crosswalk without checking for traffic. Vehicles halting past the stop bar can camouflage pedestrians in the intersection, leading to potentially dangerous situations. Being aware of such hazards is crucial in a city with bustling volumes.
Construction on Queens Park between the east-west crescent split and Bloor Street required additional care to navigate safely. The unexpected lane reduction prompted blind spot checks for oncoming vehicles, as well as a temporary detour onto the sidewalk to connect with the east-west Bloor St bikeway. By the time I had reached Bay and Bloor, pedestrian volumes were so substantial that I opted to dismount instead.
The flyers hadn't noted any articles of interest to me. Nevertheless, I browsed every single aisle, scrutinizing the selection and their asking prices.
The sole purpose of obtaining a Mississauga Library Card had been to increase my chances of obtaining an Ontario Parks or Credit Valley Conservation (CVC) pass. While I'm very much still in the queue, I happened to find a number of "Lucky Day Collection" passes being offered at my local library. Needless to say, I jumped at the opportunity and managed to secure an Ontario Parks pass.
Each pass is valid for a period of seven days and area limited to Day Use passes. Consequently, obtaining my pass on a Tuesday morning would require return the following week at the same time. This would restrict usage to the weekend, for majority of parks were too far to be visit on a weekday evening after work. With my budget proving tragically tight as of late, I proposed the idea to my browsing partner. In place of boujee brunch, shopping, DIY LINE Friends bracelets, and an evening of wine, my wallet required a more affordable alternative - and ideally one that did not require cleaning the house to facilitate guests.
In typical me nature, I set out to optimize the pass by contemplating visits to two Provincial Parks within the same day. Forks of the Credit, Mono Cliffs, and Earl Rowe were quite close to one another. The Fall Colour Report hadn't informed on leaf change at any site. Upon further investigation, Earl Rowe was found to be relatively bland in terms of trails and landscapes, with a murky, contaminated lake to boot. Naturally, the former two were confirmed as the contenders for the day trip.
For parks with automated gates, reservations are mandatory. With the possession of an Ontario Parks pass, visitors could make as many reservations as desired as long as they did not overlap for the same day, time period, or license plate/occupant. In other words, I could reserve both Forks of the Credit and Mono Cliffs, but only one would be valid for the "Full Day" category. The second would be restricted to the slots of: 8 AM - 12 PM, 12 PM - 4 PM, and 4 PM - 8 PM.
I opted for Forks of the Credit first, followed by Mono Cliffs. The decision had resulted from evaluating the availability of tree coverage in each park, analyzing peak periods, and accounting for overall logistics. While early morning trips to Mono Cliffs had proven ideal, I banked on quieter volumes along my trail of interest. In addition, heading to Vaughan appeared swifter from Mono than Orangeville.
Braving a dense layer of fog and less than six hours of sleep, I swooped up my birthday buddy at the early hour of 8 AM. The route would comprise of fast food franchises for washroom stops and lunch/snack breaks, but commence with a last-minute stopover for gas. Caledon was found cheaper than the GTA suburbs, thus I added the most convenient location as a detour.
The Esso was possibly the oldest gas station I'd seen in years: the pumps were not equipped with tap capabilities, the ceiling partitions were dangling, and the entrance to the gas station cashier was camouflaged with an obscene number of flyers against the walls. Somewhat proper signage had informed of the location being an LCBO Convenience outlet. Beyond this addition, it was certainly not the standard Esso.
Next up would be Tim Hortons.
The Canadian coffee house chain was again very old and dilapidated. In contrast to the rumbling pick-ups and stout occupants, the asphalt lot was rather compact. The interior would feature a similar layout to any other of the franchise's outposts, however bathrooms were limited to two unisex stalls instead of the usual gender-separated facilities consisting of two stalls each.
One of these stalls was revolting with a conspicuous puddle of water on the ground. The second was, unfortunately, not much better with grimy floors filled with debris and trash and a nonexistent mirror.
My birthday buddy hadn't heeded my words of wisdom in consuming breakfast beforehand, and took to a savoury pastry during this stop instead. We also procured assorted Timbits to share; the spherical morsels revealed themselves tremendously cloying, and frankly reflective of the local population's average size and weight.
We pulled into the gravel lot at 9:15 AM, already finding a handful of vehicles in the proximity. The early morning hours were cool with plenty of shade, though these patches of breeziness would later recede to yield uncovered stretches with prominent sun exposure. I shed my neon windbreaker within the first hour of trekking, though my birthday buddy persisted with her starting ensemble: Doc Martens and cotton layers were far from the ideal hiking attire though.
The intended path would be as follows:
Monday descended upon me with a rainy start to the day. Interestingly, it wasn't as chilly as the overcast skies had made it seem. Gloves and a cardigan layered underneath a windbreaker were already sufficient in inciting perspiration. Distributed this week at the Union Samples kiosk were protein shakes. The first day of sampling saw an exceptionally short queue - thank you Mondays! - and offered flavours of Café Latte, Chocolate, and a pre-mixed coffee mixture. In dire need of caffeine, I took to the first flavour as a mid-day pick-me-up. Lunchtime would see execution of errands at Eaton. I'd finally present my concert buddy with a package of Thai Tea Leaves from Patchmon's, after she had driven away while assuming my early slumber. Also performed was a thorough try-on of Adidas Terrex shoes. Using my extensively worn New Balance runners as reference, I confirmed size 8s to vary incredulously across brands. The UK size equivalent also appeared to differ from the US sizes listed under the tongue. The rest of the break would then be spent browsing nearby retailers including Uniqlo. Despite the shelves already being lined with the brand's fall-winter collections, UV parkas were still not marked down, much to my frustration. While en route back, I introduced my concert buddy to Cong Caphe, mainly due to the need for clean washroom facilities. As I disappeared downstairs towards a comparatively busier seating area, she was compelled to purchase a White Phin Coffee (my recommendation) and Banh Mi.
I can never quite predict my sleep patterns. Sometimes, I crash into bed and remain stationary until the whirring buzz of my alarm. Other times, my body is fatigued yet the mind is restless, pouncing back and forth between thoughts conjured by recent stressors. Truth be told: alcohol aids not in promoting deep sleep, but rather a drowsy, relaxed sensation that transitions to disrupted slumber. Small quantities rarely render an impact, however, but I'd be mindful of consuming too much too late. With barely four hours of sleep under my belt, the morning commute was indeed a struggle. Nearly zombie-like in my demeanour, I sluggishly eased into the morning after an incredibly justified intake of cold brew. My coworker surprised me, along with another member of the team, with a handmade bead bracelet. While slightly juvenile for my tastes, the gesture was appreciated nevertheless. Mine would be appropriately themed in green, with colourful, cubed letter beads strung together to read "Jinyoung". Naturally, it summoned a giggle from me and I happily slid it on my wrist. Despite the splendid weather, inadequate rest had suppressed sharpness, diminishing my ability to command alertness and consequently discouraging my initial contemplation of cycling in the city. Recently introduced by Amazon was a streamlined return procedure. Instead of a shipping label, a QR code would be sent to customers to enable drop-off at any Staples, Canada Post, Purolator, or Intelcom location. The method neither required a shipping box or printer, nor incurred any additional charges to the customer. If desired, though, one could opt for a Purolator drop-off with "box required". Located at the northeast corner of Armoury and University is likely one of the neatest, most spacious Staples outposts in the city. Besides a Mos Mos coffee counter and dedicated workspace with glass walls (termed "Staples Studio"), the location also offered a "solutionshop" section with a separate counter for Amazon returns. A member of staff would scan the QR code, print a label, and tack it onto the return item in a matter of seconds. Then I'd be on my way. The process was swift and seamless, and ideal for individuals without printers such as myself. IKEA would constitute the following stop. In response to move-in week for post-secondary students, the homeware giant had introduced a number of new dorm-friendly items. Although the selection was impressive, I ultimately strode out without making a single purchase. For starters, I'd need to take measurements to ensure feasibility of the items. Secondly, I was keen to avoid transporting items back home on a rush hour commute with limited GO train seating.
When office days take an unexpectedly steamy turn, one is compelled to consider indoor alternatives for lunchtime ventures. The trek towards the office usually spans no more than fifteen minutes. Before I had even reached the halfway mark though, I had already shed my cardigan and powered on my neck pan. Extremely humid days make for miserable walks in the city, and when the early morning hours had already posed difficulty breathing, I knew Mother Nature was foreshadowing an imminent surge in mercury levels. By the time noon rolled around, I had secured a last-minute admission pass for the Bata Shoe Museum using the TPL Map. The reservation enabled a total of two adults and four children to visit; I proposed the idea to my coworker, who eagerly joined me upon hearing the word "museum". To combat the dreadful heat, we opted to take the subway from St. Patrick to St. George. Mind you, as someone seldom takes TTC nowadays, I did struggle slightly with finding the correct exit from the Line 1-2 transfer station. Upon rearing our heads onto St. George and Bloor, we were graced with the sight of ongoing cycle track work at the intersection. New asphalt, fresh pavement markings, and dazzling concrete came into view - all much to my delight as a recent member of the Bike Share community. On the southwest corner of the intersection was our destination of interest, the Bata Shoe Museum. I led the way through the accessibility-enabled glass doors, then halted by the elevators as it occurred to me that I hadn't downloaded the pass as yet. I quickly saved the PDF, then approached the counter with both the pass and library card in hand. "I can help you over here." a young gentleman offered. "I'll just need your order number, library card number, and a piece of ID." This was possibly the most comprehensive check to date, for not even Ripley's had verified that the name of the booking member matched the ID of the member on site. Following check-in, the man provided an overview of the museum. Spanning a total of four floors, he recommended commencing from the basement level and working one's way up. Besides a spacious staircase, visitors with mobility needs could also utilize the nearby elevator and Wave-to-Open sensors to access each exhibit. At the bottommost floor were washrooms, a seating and lounge area, and an area where one could try on shoes of various styles and sizes. I wasn't particularly keen on touching surfaces with which others' soles have come into contact, though I did enjoy the amusing array of footwear available. The basement level also featured an exhibit titled "All About Shoes: Footwear Through the Ages". As the name implied, it showcased various styles of shoes worn throughout the decades. These styles would vary drastically in size, shape, and material to reflect the needs of those inhabiting different parts of the globe. An Ameblo Pigg-style staircase would lead one up to a smaller section of the same exhibit. This portion featured comparatively modern styles: suede, leather, and hide were shed for patent leather, canvas, and rubber. Sneakers and loafers announced the departure from moccasins, cowboy boots, pointy heels, and sparkly platforms. "All About Shoes" led us back to the ground floor, where we'd climb up the stairs towards the second floor exhibits. Immediately piquing our interest was "Exhibit A: Investigating Crime and Footwear". Themed in black and red, this compact room garnered immediate interest. Neither of us had envisioned a possible link between crime-solving and shoes! The tidbits were exceptionally engaging, and we wished that we could have read them all during our stay. Unfortunately, the lunchtime visit had restricted the duration of stay per room to a mere few minutes.
Most Mondays start with sleepy entries into the morning. Mine started with a hangover after indulging in sake after the departure of Beer Garden vendors at Japan Festival. The afternoon would see creation of an Ovaltine Matcha Latte. Put to the test was Hokusan's pricey Niju series. While the use of ceremonial matcha is excessive in my opinion, I was curious to observe differences between my go-to pick of Momo Tea's Matsu. It was with shock that I learned the tins to be without freshness seals. A muted green hue with yellowy undertones would be revealed, followed by an extremely floral fragrance that I was none too fond of. Upon crafting the beverage, I could perceive mild notes of grassiness, though the floralness continued to overwhelm the olfactory palette. The resulting colour wasn't revolutionary, though the formula does indeed shine with milk, making it the ideal contender for the ever-basic matcha latte. I never did understand the cult following behind Hokusan, and perhaps I never will. Meals of the week comprised of Steamed Pork and Turnip + Choy Sum (and Furikake) over Rice, Braised Chicken and Lap Cheong with Congee, Fuzzy Melon Soup, and homemade Cha Siu. I'd also prepare two servings of Black Sesame Glutinous Rice Balls - one with crystal rock sugar and another with a ginger-infused version of the syrup. My alarm clock would be compromised the morning of my required in-office presence, leading to a mad scramble and dash for the train. Miraculously, I made it to the station and charged up the platforms just in time to catch my regular freight. "Noooooo" could be audibly heard by fellow commuters just before the doors closed. Thankfully, the morning had proved cooler than most, keeping perspiration at bay as I blazed through my morning routine. These cooler temperatures also encouraged further foray into the realm of Bike Share. Over the course of the morning, I'd review options for my lunchtime route, eventually settling on traversing northeast in the first half and southwest for the return route. These decisions had been intentional as to prevent a sweaty uphill return and ensure a timely return for an afternoon meeting. With some difficulty, I pedalled up Bay Street, and was immediately faced with aggressive drivers. The vast majority rushed through right turns, obstructing the crosswalk and curb lane, and even through intersections. The lack of dedicated cycling facilities and high pedestrian volumes made for a generally unpleasant and unsafe experience. Uni-directional cycle tracks on Bay Street did not commence until north of Dundas Street, pending curbside construction activities. I continued until Wellesley, then Sherbourne, then Bloor St E, as per my planned route. In cycling through the various high-density neighbourhoods, one could clearly distinguish the respective demographic and income levels. In the planning stage, I had intended to dock the bike once at Castle Frank station. Along the way was a more convenient Bike Share station at Bloor and Parliament. A cycle track that gradually ramped up towards the sidewalk served as incentive to disembark briefly. Being situated at the base of a new residential tower, all docks were empty, meaning that inhabitants of the building had likely taken to the service for commuting purposes. I continued along Bloor, but stopped within minutes due to concerns over squeaking sounds arising from the left pedal. Considering a bike swap, I docked at Castle Frank, only to undock the same bike again upon discovering the remainder to be e-bikes (extra charge) or those with peeling seats. Interestingly, the pedals no longer squeaked as loudly upon undocking. I'd then continue along the Bloor Street overpass, which offered the typical Ontario lookout of leafy shrubs and the generally unimposing Don River. While I cannot compare directly to the Burrard Bridge, even Mississauga's Credit River featured grander scenery. Instead of turning onto Royal Drive, which is somewhat of an on-ramp for the DVP, I mistakenly turned into the parking lot of the City Adult Learning Centre and descended onto an unpaved trail with stairs. As I ventured further, the area revealed itself as the grounds of a homeless resident: a grocery cart's worth of belongings were spotted at the lowest level of the ramp, while a clothing line for hanging laundry was spotted within metres of the DVP. Reversing with the bike was a travesty, yet survival instincts demanded swift actions.
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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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