​This weekday trip spurred from simple fangirl desires. There was one - and only one - motive behind this trip: to see NCT 127 before they hit the streets of Toronto.

A Thai ahgase  - who is no longer an unfamiliar name on this space - and I had been monitoring our feeds all morning, hoping to catch glimpses of the members departing LAX so we could make the necessary arrangements for the remainder of the day.
By the time the necessary information had been acquired, we were already easing into the latter half of the day. As opposed to meeting up at the airport, then continue east for Korean BBQ near Christie, the plan was altered drastically.

​I headed to Koreatown first. A last-minute hair appointment had been made while en route.
Having arrived earlier than the scheduled slot, my first order of business resided with Hodo Kwaja: a five-pack of brown sugar hoddeok was purchased to go, along with a tasty afternoon snack of walnut cakes and iced coffee. ​The family-operated establishment offered an expectedly potent three-dollar variation of the caffeinated beverage; four large chunks of ice assisted in maintaining its frosty temperature. 

Ms. Faith was till a bit behind schedule, so I settled for exploring the area (yet again). In doing so, I discovered that Mississauga's ThirsTEA was soon to launch immediately next to CoCo. Meanwhile, I also caught sight of a limited edition Hello Kitty x h.naoto notepad that I had purchased some ten years ago in Harajuku.

​Restricted in terms of time (and anxious over the reliability of public transit systems during rush hour), I set out to Kinton first to secure a table. Less than thirty minutes remained for feasting, rendering ramen a more suitable alternative to meat grilling.

< Pictured above and below: Burnt Kogashi Shoyu Ramen, Pork Miso Ramen with Thick Noodles, Hot Yuzu Sake >

Come to think of it, I don't think I've stepped foot into Kinton since my less-than-spectacular experience at the chain's original Baldwin Village spot. The Koreatown outpost carried an exclusive Cabbage Miso Ramen as well as a monthly special of Burnt Kogashi Shoyu Ramen.
The former was informed to be a somewhat spicy concoction, which ultimately led to swapping for the Pork Miso Ramen. Comprising of soybean paste, torched pork slices, corn kernels, scallions, and few dollops of garlic oil, my fellow idol-chaser devoured this in a matter of minutes. (We were on a time crunch after all.)

​The Burnt Kogashi Shoyu Ramen boasted a far richer broth - evident in its darker hue and thicker consistency. A heavy handful of bean sprouts, two wide strips of torched pork belly, and a soft-boiled egg were substantial elements of the bowl. A dusting of charred seasoning - type unspecified - added depth and nuttiness, reducing feelings of satiation from the rich broth.

​Both of these options paired well with the Hot Yuzu Sake, a warm glass of sweet citrus. It arrived in a stout glass, with bits of sugary yuzu jam lining the bottom. A single lemon slice drifted afloat.
Several rounds of prodding were required to obtain the precise species of house sake utilized in the drink. I rephrased my question three different ways before finally hearing the response I was searching for: Hot Yuzu Sake contained 5 oz. of Sho Chiki Bai.

​Working odd hours means never really being able to spend time with the 9-to-5-ers in my life. Or, it leads to super-compact meetups, followed by immediately speeding off to mid-afternoon appointments.

​Prior to assembling in the core, I opted for a brisk detour through the city's first outdoor container market. Known as Stackt, it consisted of black containers with glass windows, with impenetrable ones stacked on top of each other for design purposes.

Each container, or portion that of, was allocated to an individual vendor. Some of these included: Donut Monster from Hamilton, Bean + Pearl from Brampton, and Toronto's very own Reunion Island Coffee Roasters.

​At the west end of the market was the Belgian Moon Brewery, along with seating in the form of picnic benches. Plants in milk crates and loose rocks secured in wired blocks (retaining rock walls?) decorated the area.

Who would have predicted the day that global K-Pop acts would choose Hamilton as their performance location of choice?
Not me, that's for sure.

Of all the neighbourhoods within the GTHA, downtown Hamilton does not rank high in terms of (my own list of) explore-able neighbourhoods. Campus life had been quite mundane a few years back, though I do admit that quite a handful of coffee shops have emerged since my era.

​The Thai ahgase and I arrived at the early hour of noon, which coincided with the commencement of concert merch sales. Grey skies above our heads, we proceeded to affix ourselves to the winding lineup, jittering for the entire duration. Amidst this wait, we observed the Sound Check ticketholders: they were arranged about the venue a similar fashion, patiently awaiting their turn to file into the exclusive event. A few even had blankets wrapped about their bodies.

Each squeaky pink hammer lightstick rang in at a whopping sixty dollars, and yet, somehow, the bulk of the attendees had no issues mindlessly relinquishing this amount. This statement may come across a tad hypocritical, given its origin from one of the most dedicated Canadian ahgases, but I've never been to drop hard-earned funds before window shopping elsewhere.

​Once the ordeal had finished, we sauntered over to the Hamilton Farmer's Market for lunch. Majority of the vendors remained familiar to me - an indication that they had survived the test of evolving demand. pokeh had shifted to a larger location (for reasons beyond me), and the ramen bar had acquired the adjacent next stall in its expansion.

We first took to Thai Tea from Nam Nom. The plastic cups contained less than the standard 12 oz./16 oz. serving, but the orange beverages could be depicted as nothing less than exquisite. Common gripes of the variations found throughout Toronto included heavy quantities of ice, excessive sugariness, lack of authenticity, and disproportionate milkiness. The undernotes of Nam Nom's version were unmistakably legitimate - not far from the result of brewing my own blend at home. Moreover, the slickness wasn't overpowering.
​
Hamilton isn't known for competitive prices, though I'd proclaim four dollars to be a fair deal.

​​The Slow-Cooked Pulled Chicken sandwich, on the other hand, did not deserve the same amount of commendation. At $8.50, the modern banh mi-style sub was not only pricier than Subway around the corner, but also far more compact in comparison. Personally, the combination of pickled veggies, crisp baguette, and fresh herbs never fail to impress. That said, large chunks of scallions, minimal dressing, a painfully lengthy wait time, and cash-only requirements are enough to encourage taking my business elsewhere for better value.
Slurp Ramen's customizable Miso bowl was tasty according to the tester, however one cannot dismiss elements such as chopped cabbage and charred sweet potato being ungenuine ramen components. The lumpy egg, in spite of its runny interior, was a deduction in terms of visual appearance for me.

We tossed our Thai Tea cups - now depleted of liquid - into the bins next to Cake & Loaf, where I secured a Chocoate Peanut Butter Cookie sample, and then proceeded with a walking tour of the one-kilometre radius. By this time, the drabness had cleared to reveal blue skies and warm rays of sunshine.

​James Street proved to have undergone drastic developments in my period of absence. Added to the roster were new cafés, street art, and kitschy independent shops. The small stretch had been reformed in such a manner that it near emulated the crafty character of Trinity Bellwoods.​

​A hybrid motorcycle gear/coffee shop - with a lounge to boot! - was quite the striking combination.

With a pivotal evaluation behind me, I was discharged from hibernation and promptly set out to indulge in the social tidbits of life I had been exempted from for the duration of my study time.

​My five-week pass at Hub has now expired, however this hasn't held me back from acquiring the full climbing set while en route to Hamilton.

Unlike the North York location, the representative provided unobtrusive, constructive advice, while taking my beginner budget into full consideration. I pranced out -  positively chipper - with a pair of lace-up Skyhawks, a harness with turquoise accents, and a chalk bag/ball duo in the closest shade to purple (the bag, not the chalk).

​Finding myself back on campus grounds for the first time since convocation, I couldn't help but scour the hallways in search of my own composite, as well as that of fellow alumni.

The Food District has officially opened its doors just beneath The Rec Room, and its features are quite similar to that of Assembly Chef's Hall. That said, it should be noted that seating is extremely minimal and the corridor capacity can quickly become stifling during weekend peak times.

Home to a variety of retail and restaurant pop-ups, the weekend lineup also included several rotary vendors with limited supply products. Amongst these was Drummond Farms, who provided samples of delectable apple cider to inquisitive roamers of the market. At only three dollars for a 1L jug, the entire party was quick to take interest in purchasing. We opted to hold off until we were about to depart, only to discover that the stall had sold out before its closing time. (We'll be back!)

As we near the final period of the first quarter, I continue my woeful babble of my current employment status (or rather, lack thereof). Granting that my schedule is likely lax in comparison to others, I've been able to invest more time in physical exercise and occasional kitchen projects.

The closure of Put A Cone On It had inflicted a forceful blow; the past few weeks were spent in denial. However, I am now back on my feet, striving to recreate the coveted Matcha White Chocolate Chip Cookie that I had been fortunate enough to encounter in the time gone by.

1) Several videos later, I took to executing the formula yielding the most similar consistency. The first trial wasn't entirely fruitless, but its efforts resulted in cookies that were far too sweet even when paired with the most potent of coffee brews. An in-depth analysis would be required in preparation for the next release.

​2) Frozen Leek Gyoza made better with Tasty tips. Rie is the best!
3) Matcha Nutella Latte - an unexpectedly indulgent combination

​4) Phoenix Restaurant (Woodbine and Steeles)

​5) The search of climbing shoes begins, for the stench of disinfecting shoe sprays at Hub have crept up on my olfactory senses.

​6) Fluffy Eggs & Toast (not mine) and a Banana Kale Soy Smoothie (dubiously mine, but mine nonetheless).

​7) The second iteration of Sunday Baking's recipe trumped the disproportionately cloying first. Modifications in this batch included less sugar and double the matcha powder, resulting in prominent grassiness and a far richer hue. Stay tuned for the final edition on What I Make!

​Has half the month passed already? (My exam date is looming. Oh dear me.)

1) Onnuri
With the name change also came an updated menu. Thankfully, prices remained the same; the selection was similar, though the new focus seemed to lie with hot stone dishes (instead of solely on gamjatang).

​2) At-Home Visuals Feat. Mixed Berry Jam Grilled Cheese
3) Cereal for the iron-deficient
4) My first cup of Mango Green Tea w/ Lychee Jelly since 2015, courtesy of a friendly former co-worker

5) Tip of the day: Wear long sleeves and trim your nails short prior to climbing.

​I rolled into a peaceful Saturday morning with "Morning Flower" reverberating throughout my room. Still dazed from returning late the previous evening, I grudgingly peeled away the covers and swiped the alarm. It was time to get dressed for my first Zumba class.

Stenoodie and I had actually planned the date two weeks prior, and despite my initial concerns about a double cardio hit on the same day, I was excited. Of course, the eastbound trip was not without obstacles. I zipped along the 401 with ease - a rare situation to even fathom - but then got caught behind sluggish muttonheads on the 404. Ah, weekend drivers.
​
The morning dance class was held in the gym of the St. George Antioch Orthodox Church Centre, instead of a standalone plaza as I had expected. I sped past the entranceway, then was forced to loop around the residential areas until a path to Bayview could be found. A separate event was being held at the venue at the same time, thus locating parking was another nightmare. It also did not help that many drivers had decided to take up two spaces instead of their allocated one. By the time I entered, twenty minutes of the class had already passed.

​I joined the ahjummas (and a lone ahjussi) for the remainder of the class, then attempted to render myself presentable using the extremely limited space that a team of high school volleyball players had spared for me in the bathroom. Exiting the premises, I caught sight of the substance inexperienced drivers feared the most: snow.

Frankly speaking, a light dusting of flakiness never hurt anyone. However, automobile operators on the east end tend to fear all weather conditions, and this particular case was an obstruction by means of reduced speed limits. Advancing past the scaredy-cats, I pulled into the 16th and Wilmot plaza, snagging the first available spot in the strip. Our brunch destination of choice was already brimming with customers.

​I had slotted Elephant Grind Coffee onto my list of unbounded to-go spots after receiving positive feedback from ochungg. The scene that lay before my eyes was not so different from Alchemy: snowy external conditions, a bustling interior, and an unbelievably dreadful lineup. Having called in advance, I was informed that the wait would average 15-20 minutes for a party of two. This seemed reasonable, but dismaying information was provided upon my arrival; estimated wait times had surged to 30-45 minutes.

Ravenous at this point, I suggested to partake in a meal at any of the other nearby establishments. The plea was refuted by my dining partner, who dove inside to keep an ear out should our names be called. I remained outside, for feelings of claustrophobia were aggravated at the mere sight of the closely-packed diners assimilated about the doorway.
True to their word, our names - or rather, mine - was called at the thirty-minute mark. A sigh of relief sweft over me: Elephant Grind was already proving different from Alchemy, where I had waited well upwards of their thirty-five minute estimation before obtaining a stool.

​Sustenance orders were placed and paid for at the front counter, though table service was in effect for the rest of the meal. The menu was quite vast, and diverse given Markham's regular selection of offers. I took to the Elephant Grind Sandwich - a conservative bet since the cafe had embedded their name on the very item - along with an Iced Coffee. The drink menu spanned flat whites, Nutella lattes, hot chocolate, and steamy cups of Sloane tea, yet there was not a Cold Brew option in sight. This was odd to me, given that Hatch, their roaster of choice, had attained fame for this specific beverage.

Nevertheless, my Iced Coffee was refreshing with a only a subtly acidic starting note.

​Every so often, I make a Markham run. Approximately forty to fifty minutes of a drive, one would consider it within fairly acceptable travel distance as the journey downtown is already an hour and a half via local and regional public transit. That said, not everyone enjoys the 120-kilometre round trip, especially when gas prices have risen so recently.

It's crucial to make the most of a trip, including tending to errands along the way and trying out new establishments in the vicinity.

​Eggette Hut is a destination I've been meaning to revisit, but on a relatively empty stomach. Cheese Explosion had proved insanely satiating in spite of its delectability. Ordering the Coconut Eggette, I had hoped for an afternoon snack that provided just the adequate amount of satisfaction. Truthfully, it was much sweeter than I would have liked. Opting out of the two-dollar milk tea pairing had been an informed decision on my behalf. The chewy consistency of dessicated coconut flakes was present, along with pockets of soft, stretchy mochi in each bubble. One side of the waffle was crisp and uniformly golden brown, but the other (the "flip side") was soft - mushy even - with an overall patchy appearance.

Although not entirely unpleasant, I am unsure whether I'd return for a third trial. The flavours, though pronounced, are quite excessive, overpowering the delicate properties of its foundation - the plain egg waffles and its sheer texture profile. Should you contemplate attempting Eggette Hut, it is highly recommended to have a few friends in tow. Sharing the waffles is less likely to result in sugar/sodium overdose, all while lowering the cost per unit of the pricey little fragments.

I went on to spend a relaxing half hour of reading at Chapters - one of the exceptionally few GTA locations which hasn't been renamed as "Indigo", then engaging in rapid research for nearby dinner options.

​Mi-Ne was close by, and its reviews told a solid story. We set out for the Japanese restaurant.
Locating its coordinates was a simple task: being at the corner of the plaza ensured that patrons traversing north along Woodbine would spot it with ease. I pulled into the utterly horrendous parking lot, immediately furrowing my brows at the wretched scene that lay before me.
For a private lot, one would have assumed the owner(s) to have invested in maintenance procedures in the name of continued business. Sadly, this was not the case; potholes, large, ponding cracks, sporadically depressed sections were dispersed throughout. The sudden jumps in grade were annoying not only to drivers, but created nasty trip hazards to pedestrians as well.

​The restaurant itself did not earn such scorn. Mi-Ne had been thoroughly decorated with various Japanese ornaments, leaving no shred of its predecessor behind. In fact, the interior had been altered in such a manner that it hadn't even occurred to me that this was the exact location where a personal tragedy had taken place nearly six years prior.

​The service staff consisted of young Koreans, which I presumed none to exceed the age of twenty-five. A petite hostess seated us at one of the many partitioned wooden booths. Teetering between each was an array of empty alcohol bottles. The assortment spanned sake, soju, as well as several other unfamiliar names, seemingly aspired to bridge the gap between family diner and izakaya.

​To encourage drinking, they even presented a menu of mix-and-match izakaya combos. At a mere nineteen dollars, patrons had the option of pairing a single appetizer-sized platter with either 16 oz. of draft beer ir 200 ml of sake. Amongst these small servings were deep-fried oysters, salmon sashimi, BBQ unagi, and more.
Rolls and makis were found on a separate, double-sided laminated menu; even more options were nestled within a tattered hardcover menu.

After a lengthy discussion and much contemplation, we settled on one set from the izakaya menu and a Chirashi from the regular menu. Ponzu/soy-dressed side salads and miso soups arrived soon after orders were placed. Green tea brewed with rice grains had been placed before us before that.

All dishes were delivered rapidly, albeit their presentation being a bit lacking. Salad dressing was spotted dribbling off one of the bowls, while the shallow Chirashi bowl featured greasy smears and fingerprints.
​That is not to say that they were dismal orders of sustenance, however they didn't succeed in leaving a strong impression either. The starters were straightforward and very, very typical.

< Pictured above and below: Asahi, Fried Oysters, Chirashi >

​It's accurate to say that new years bring about changes. A conspicuous observation amongst my inner circle would be the gradual shift from ceaseless food adventures to hangout sessions fusing physical activity followed by rewarding munches.

Another fellow food enthusiast recently returned from her travels. And while a planned visit to TORA was in the works, an above-seasonal Sunday afternoon was not the time for that. I voted against the chaos of Yorkdale and proposed staying local instead.
The suggestion of partaking in a drop-in dance class was rejected in favour of checking out the city's newest indoor climbing facility, Hub.

​Our date of visit happened to coincide with the second and final day of their Grand Opening party. Existing members from the club's Markham location were able to bring two guests with them for free, causing the facility to swell with climbers of all experience levels. The staff kept busy by tending to the requests of attendees and ensuring that waivers had been filled for each and every participant.
We didn't arrive until early afternoon, after crowds had long arrived and settled in. However, there was still a delay due to the limited number of computers (for signing waivers) and obtaining the correct size for our rental shoes.

A complimentary yoga session happened to be taking place around this time, so we headed towards the second floor to join. As neither of us had prepared our own mats, we simply unravelled the chalk-covered ones available. They definitely weren't the cleanest, nor did they smell all that great. Each Downward Dog was rewarded with a rancid whiff of sweat. Stench aside, the one-hour class was enjoyable and succeeded in stretching out our bodies' tightest areas prior to engaging in more intense physical activity.

​The second floor was extremely minimal: mostly concrete with no decorative elements whatsoever. With that said, it provided a quiet area to rest one's mind, away from the clamour of the climbing walls. It was also here that one could grasp a full view of the numerous attractions and exercise areas. In the far corner was a compact gym in the making, while bouldering walls of varying difficulty levels surrounded the perimeter. At its centre was a lofty structure intended for intermediate level belay and top rope climbing.
In a less crowded area was a party room - likely instated for the birthday party needs of children - and a Learner's Area where our auto-belay safety orientation would take place.

With the conclusion of our calming yoga session, we retreated back to the ground floor to request harnesses and more fitted pairs of climbing shoes. This type of footwear was primarily structure-less, with a flexible yet rigid toe piece and soft sides all around. Good news for those with flat feet (such as myself) is that you can easily upgrade to a half size larger to accomodate for the insertion of orthotics.
We then underwent brief training for the auto-belay system (an automated pulley system that would lower climbers down slowly) and were made aware of safe falling methods for bouldering.

Afterwards, we went on to spend a large chunk of our time in the Learner's Area, challenging ourselves with different routes. Hub utilized a number-based difficulty system; for example, a route with a rating of 5.3 was far less straining than that with rating 5.9. Most of the courses in the Learner's Area were relatively free of contours, however, there were a handful that incorporated concavity and protrusions.

​As we eased into the evening hours, we decided to attempt the trickier routes in the main climbing area. My partner-in-crime was first to hook herself onto the belay system. Sprawling upwards with the fluidity of a long-legged spider, she reached the top in under two minutes! I, on the other hand, am not quite so lanky. The course was a grueling expedition for me. Breathing a bit faster than normal, I did not succeed in touching the top stone until almost five minutes later.

​Orangecane had been right about the aftereffects: my hands felt "raw", exposure to warm water was torture, and driving was excruciating. I had rewarded with agonizing calluses on the underside of hand, specifically at the point where the palm meets the ends of the fingers and the hand bends

"So much for being open on public holidays."
I had suggested sushi for my long overdue meetup with ochungg, namely Japan Eats located on the ground floor of Yonge and Sheppard's predominantly Chinese condo building. Alas, we arrived to find both front and back entrances locked and the interior was empty. Despite my prior research, the information on their social media page had proved inaccurate.

​With one of us craving sashimi and the other in favour of Korean, we settled on MeNami. Reservations hadn't been made in advance, but, thankfully, we were seated without a wait. Those arriving closer to 1 PM were spotted standing by the entrance for short periods of time.

As a familiar choice for both of us, narrowing down our selection was a fairly uncomplicated task. ochungg opted for the Salmon Cream Sauce Udon, while I pointed towards the Fresh Salmon Don without a shred of hesitation. Fresh greens and sashimi were precisely the two elements I had been searching for.
Other additions to the menu included an eighty-dollar Family Day Special, which showcased a few of their signature dishes, and a new series of cocktails (that were arguably less appealing than their initial lineup).

We had also agreed on requesting a Fresh Fried Ika to share. Regrettably, the portion was much smaller - and greasier! than past visits.

​Trying the Fresh Salmon Don was a first for me. Comprising various components and an extravagant presentation, it was managed to fill the sashimi void without leaving behind feelings of satiation. The dish was served with a choice of sweet soy sauce or a spicy, tangy gochujang-based dressing; being concerned over the degree of spiciness, I requested that the sauces be served on the side. Our server, who was all grins and expertly blended eyeshadow, obliged with a smile.

The main was a medley of mixed greens, pickled peppers and cucumbers, tenkasu, and chunks of salmon sashimi.
A bowl of warm, steamed white rice and clear dashi-like broth accompanied the ceramic platter. The rice grew mushy quite quickly - it was either not of a short-grain variety, or had been cooked with an excessive amount of water. The soup acted as a palate cleanser between bites of pickled vegetables and onion.

​With the exception of a bone amidst the sashimi chunks, I was quite fond of the don overall. In comparison to the restaurant's other dishes, it possessed a more subtle profile, yet did not skimp on flavour nor texture. 

​Atmospheric conditions were milder than predicted, so we trekked down to Hey Sugar afterwards.