Ever since I finally conducted a comprehensive review of my pantry, the list of ingredients pending expiry have been on my mind. Among the assortment are various bags of nuts from Costco and graham crackers. While I've been tackling dry roasted, salted hazelnuts through granola and pecans through pecan pie, graham crackers have been used towards no-bake desserts. The most common application is a graham cracker crust.

​Chocolate Pudding Bars with Matcha Glaze

A) Graham Cracker Base

Ingredients:

• 400 g Honey Maid graham crackers
• 190 g unsalted butter, melted and cooled

For an 8-9 in cake or 8 in x 8 in square pan, I typically turn to my small but mighty 3-cup food processor - which has now doubled (!!!) in price due to inflation! It takes about two rounds to blitz 250 g worth of biscuits. This time, I opted for a larger food processor, as I was practically doubling the amount for a 9 in x 13 in pan.

Melted butter was then drizzled into the food processor and mixed until combined. The crumbs were transferred to a parchment-lined pan, pressed towards the edges, and transferred to the refrigerator to harden as I prepared the Chocolate Pudding base.

In theory, matcha-topped pudding bars seemed like a splendid idea. However, the custard recipe on the exterior of the Bird's Custard Powder can was not only bland and tacky, but lacking in sweetness as well. Sweetened chocolate whipped cream enabled a soft, mousse-like consistency and drastically improved complexity.
The glaze also adopted the yielding consistency and vivid, grassy hue that I had sought out. Unfortunately, due to my matcha being expired, grassy depth had been compromised in the output.

​My patience was rewarded the next morning: I could achieve crisp lines and neat squares. The only caveat: the bars needed to be stored in the freezer and thawed only before eating.

With insufficient thawing time, the graham cracker base would persist impossibly rigid. On the other hand, the top two layers were still tasty and even slightly reminiscent of an ice cream bar.

Due to deviations from regularly scheduled weekend programming that endangered my workout routine, I decided that booking a fitness class for the earlier hours of the day was the only guaranteed way to maintain activity levels. After all, who would want to lug themselves out of bed after a late night without reason?

While I would have preferred a drop-in dance class, options were incredibly limited before 5 PM. Sunday slots were even rarer for pilates studios, which tend to offer early morning weekend sessions or close for business altogether. Panda Pilates emerged as the only establishment operating on Sunday, thus persuading a 2-class intro pack for $60 plus tax. While skepticism was prominent, I convinced myself that this was a good opportunity to try a new studio.

​Traffic conditions along the restricted segments of Dundas Street are abysmal during weekday evenings, but weekend mornings were surprisingly smooth. Despite a delayed departure, the unbelievably swift 8-minute commute led to an early arrival.

The studio was located off a residential road with a sharp turn off Dundas. Had I not known of the studio location prior, I'd have easily missed the turn with impatient weekend drivers tailing behind me. Parking spaces were limited, but adequate for the limited commercial GFA on site.
​
After climbing the concrete steps towards the entrance, I was met with a reception desk, series of cubbies, coat rack with fabric hangers covered with hair, and the odd installation of a coffee bar, known as Panda Café. Outdoor shoes were to be removed and placed by the entrance. 
This landing area was the dirtiest I had ever seen and, unlike the boutique studios, the staff did not maintain the studio between class sessions, allowing debris and hair follicles to fall to the ground and remain as is. I grimaced while stepping over the dirt- and salt-speckled floor mat towards a basket of equally questionable slippers. Unlike other studios though, the edges of the slippers appeared fairly clean and free of grey borders.
Two dimly-lite bathrooms were found past the studio space. The design was minimal and serene, though its cleanliness merely passable. I did, however, enjoy the smart mirror and conveniently located hook against the wall instead of behind the door.

I returned to the office in an awfully haggard state. Needless to say, I wasn't the only one. There were also plenty of technical difficulties experienced with the first meeting of the year.

​However, I am glad to report that, despite the undesirable conclusion of the winter holiday, seeing familiar faces made for a pleasant time. Cookies were presented and rapidly depleted by fellow floor members, while excited exchanges took place about the past two weeks. I even received a new year gift of Läderach and magnet stickers from a lovely coworker!

The lunchtime mall walk led to several new discoveries:

• The Bakers, a Middle Eastern bakery, had replaced Bingz in the food court

Presumably a recent addition given its cleaner quarters, I excited flipped through the frame options. The New Year frames piqued my interest immediately, and I swiftly convinced my coworker to join me. In the absence of hooks, our winter jackets were hung on the ends of the curtain rod for the duration of the session.

The day passed quickly, and I eventually found myself acting upon my craving for a 3 Guys from CoCo. Naturally, I took advantage of their January promotion of 2 for $10. ​A hot variation was bestowed upon my browsing partner.

Friday was the day I looked forward to the most. Operating with a noxious strained neck for at least one week was loathsome. When the day of my long-awaited massage finally rolled around, I entered the premises with vigor and anticipation.

​The evening ended on an excruciating - but nevertheless high - note as the many muscles surrounding my neck were pried at with force. Recoiling in pain, I crawled into the comfort of soft friends and commenced an exceptionally rare activity: Opening a book.

It wasn't a novel per se, but a cookbook with filled with personal stories. For the first time since acquisition, I began to read "Life's Sweetest Moments" by Dominique Ansel.
He was an impressive man, with countless baking ideas stemming from interactions and isolated moment in time. Even more inspiring was his ability to apply mastered principles to convert a feeling or past occurrence into a dessert. Truthfully, it was mesmerizing to read his detailed recaps, for my memory also functions in a strikingly similar fashion, with details and timelines intact.

​His recipes ranged in difficulty level, but I bookmarked a seemingly simple one to try. It was a Homemade Cherry Macadamia Granola inspired by Dominique's late nights when working in a restaurant.

​The original recipe quantities are as follows:

• 91 g macadamia nuts, roughly chopped
• 104 g sliced almonds
• 196 g unsalted butter, room temp
• 196 g brown sugar
• 261 g old-fashioned rolled oats
• 76 g golden raisins
• 76 g dried cherries

With the exception of dried cherries and sultanas instead of golden raisins, my pantry was already stocked with the above ingredients. After  carefully reviewing the method, I set out to construct. In the absence of a recipe, imagination was required to envision the sequence of steps.

The recipe instructs toasting the macadamia nuts and sliced almonds together at 350 F for 10-15 minutes. Based on past experiences, this approach would surely lead to one's demise. The nuts would not toast evenly given their drastic difference in size and would further become burnt and unusable by the 8-minute mark.
I toasted my sliced almonds at 325 F for 4 mins and dry roasted, salted, chopped macadamia nuts at 325 F for 7 minutes then another 4 minutes more. This enabled both varieties of nuts to achieve a golden glow without fear of blackening.

The next step involved using a stand mixer to cream butter and brown sugar until light and fluffy. Frankly, using a stand mixer for granola seemed excessive, so I creamed the butter and brown sugar together by hand. Perhaps I did not cream adequately, for fine bits of brown sugar remained in the final product. After adding the specified quantity of oats, I spread the mixture into a lined baking pan as directed. Baking at 350 F for 10-12 minutes did not render the oats crunchy whatsoever. I continued baking for another 20 minutes, at which point the butter began to ooze from the mixture, seeping underneath the silicon mat.
In the end, I'd continue to bake until dryness was observed, but the oats persisted awfully greasy and crumbly. They were also too sweet for my liking.

​Against my better judgement, I had sampled the baked oat mixture before it had cooled completely. In response to the excessive sugariness, I sprinkled a generous amount of smoked Maldon into the bowl. This inclusion contributed to the granola's eventual downfall, as it did not require the sodium boost at all.

Should the recipe be attempted again, I shall be reducing the amounts of both the butter and brown sugar. The specified quantity was excessive, and far more than even a standard cookie recipe! For chunks of crunch instead of crumbly oats, I will also consider the inclusion of egg white, as SK had done for hers.

In the days that followed, the granola only grew saltier, much to my dismay. Adding raisins assisted slightly, as did consuming dried strawberries (the item I had requested from my browsing partner due to bulk barn's unavailability of dried cherries) between each spoonful. My face and body bloated shortly after consuming a breakfast bowl's worth of granola, in a similar fashion as one does when consuming sodium-laden instant noodles. The experience was indeed traumatizing.

Nevertheless, I appreciated Dominque Ansel introducing the method of toasting nuts separate from baking the oats, then folding in dried fruit in the end. Often are instances where the raisins become bitter and burnt before the oats become crisp. Reserving mix-ins for the final stage prevent such a scenario. The combination of salted macadamia nuts and dried fruit was also unexpected, but highly enjoyable.

​2) No Bake Coffee Cheesecake Tart with Chocolate Ganache and Coffee Ganache Montée

​Over the holidays, an inventory check was conducted for all the snacks and ingredients in my pantry. Some had been long forgotten, labelled with expiry dates one or even three years past, while others recently expired or soon to expire. I succeeded in IDing most of the bagged goods, disposing of rancid nuts, ancient wheat bran, bread flour with an atrocious, off-putting aroma, and homemade breadcrumbs, which, thankfully, hadn't moulded due to my inclusion of a silica gel packet in the container.

For the next little while, I vowed to deplete as many ingredients as possible before their expiry date. While these dates merely serve as an estimate of freshness, excessive exceedance is likely not recommended.

A) Biscoff Crust

First up was a lonely 250 g pack of Biscoff, which formed the base of my recipe-less, no-bake creation. Using Sunday Baking and SK for reference, the approximate proportion of melted butter to crushed biscuits was 40-64%. I adhered to Sunday's ratio, which specified the amount of butter to be 40% of the biscuits by weight.

B) Cheesecake Batter

Life's Sweetest Moments, Pg. 28 had also included specific quantities for powdered gelatin and water. This was incredibly helpful, as Sunday Baking tends to use gelatin sheets, which will stop absorbing water once saturated.

• By volume: 2 gelatin : 3 water
• By mass: 1 g gelatin: 2.333 g water

As I experienced difficulty fully dissolving the gelatin using a 2:3 ratio, I turned to 1:3 ratio by weight instead. 1 gelatin : 3 water worked much better.

As the final hours of 2025 inevitably draw closer, I am reminded of the noticeable deviation between my planned and actual progress. Circulating social media are reminders that mere survival is worth commending, and that even the small wins are worth celebrating. However much I may preach the same message to those experiencing feelings of unfulfillment, I am a hypocrite. Those same sentiments do not hold validity for me.

Whether it be described as unwavering determination or naïve, unrealistic ambition, I couldn't care less about the classification. What matters is that goals were made, but not all were achieved within the designated time frame.

Substantial setbacks were suffered when I departed the downtown core in favour of a work location closer to home. My commute improved drastically, effectively slashing the total travel time by one third, yet my physical, mental, and emotional states were subject to a harsh blow. Having breathed easy for the past two years, the change mimicked the torturous, traumatic days of private sector work. Many months would pass before I could stand on two feet again.

Just when I believed that brighter days were ahead, my world drowned with darkness. Loss of a loved one is never easy, but experiencing grief firsthand was yet another grueling challenge for the mind and body. And while I have come to terms with the new reality, it still feels surreal at times, knowing that what was once constant is no more. The event was a cold reminder that humans are mere mortals vulnerable to the brunt of time.

​Returning home, it dawned on me that Operation Clean The House would need to be rebooted, else it'd never take place. New horrors await in the new year, after all. An ominous feeling rooted deep within my heart also urged me to inherit and acquire (via skill) family recipes that could potentially be lost with further changes.

​Honey Date Tea / 杏仁蜜棗茶 has been my saviour for all throat-related concerns from youth. Albeit straightforward in its ingredient list, the procedure was supposedly time-consuming. Being presented with this tea time and time again without a recipe for repeatability, I deemed it appropriate to devise a written method for reference.

​While the tea sat atop the stovetop, simmering away for hours on the lowest heat setting possible, I went to work reorganizing my bakeware collection. Since the pandemic days, the assortment of pans, tools, and accessories have multiplied exponentially. Gradually, the chaos and inconvenience became too much to endure.

Shelves were procured from IKEA under the assumption that assembly would be straightforward. After three hours of scratched shelves and a shaky frame, I surrendered and sought help from TaskRabbit instead. In partnership with IKEA, the portal allowed users to find "neighbours" offering handyman services and request a time slot suitable for both parties.
For those with natural aptitudes at building or constructing, this service may not be relevant. However, in a society with an aging population, such personnel become extremely helpful to those without the inability to DIY.

​A small amount of cleaning was conducted, as was inspecting all areas for expired food.

The last few days of the year proceeded under anxiety. With the other member of the household still out of commission, the responsibility of survival operations fell upon my shoulders. Groceries and errands were completed in a hurry, followed by cooking. Within the span of an hour, four stops were completed; my browsing partner assisted with the remaining two, enabling commencement of sustenance preparation shortly after 11 AM.

Read Part 1 HERE !

​Hello Nori was my belated birthday dinner destination of choice - not that this was made known to my browsing partner beforehand. When the original plan of routing through the 100 Queen St W garage fell through due to City Hall's 6 PM closure, I descended down an alternative access to the PATH.
The stairwell and landing area did reveal any differences from when I had last commuted, however the internal corridors of the below-grade connections had undergone a dramatic facelift. The grungy environment was made brilliant with white tiling and marble walls. Seating had also been revamped with grey lounge chairs to appear more appealing and welcoming.

The section between Nathan Phillips and Hudson Bay went ultimately unexplored, for we turned into the Sheraton for lavatory facilities before continuing southbound towards York/Wellington.

Reservations were not supported by Hello Nori, thus we joined the queue and alerted the hostess upon arrival. She approximated a twenty-minute wait in consideration of the two parties ahead of us. While waiting, it dawned on me that eatery strictly utilized bar seating, without any private tables in the vicinity. Bags could be placed underneath the dining counter on one of the many double hooks installed underneath. Jackets could also be hung in the same location, though I took to the wonky, wobbly coat rack to prevent my sleeves from grazing my shoes and the floor.

Approximately fifteen minutes later, we were gestured towards two seats at the end of the U-shaped seating area closest to the waiting area. The hostess made certain to note the bar chair's swivel capabilities, as well as the height adjustment lever. I appreciated the ability to tailor the seating configuration to fit one's physical requirements, but appreciated the stool's built-in foot rest even more. Too often does a metal rod affixed to the bottom of the counter serve as a communal foot rest, and rarely does it accommodate my leg length.

​With Takeout and Dine In order slips placed along the length of the queue, we had plenty of time to review the restaurant's offerings prior to ordering. The menu was extremely compact, comprising of shareable portions of oshizushi and temaki (hand rolls) without a single side of greens in sight. Miso soup and edamame could be requested at four dollars each, though hearty options such as donburis were not to be found.
Hello Nori's signature selection of hand rolls could be requested in sets of 4 pieces, 5 pieces, and 6 pieces. Meanwhile, Aburi Oshi Sushi and Sashimi could be used to supplement the carb-heavy assortment.

​The hostess advised against ordering the 6-piece set, for most patrons find that they are unable to deplete it in its entirety. My browsing partner express dubiousness towards this suggestion, noting a decent appetite. We awaited for the waitress's rundown of the fixed menu and seasonal specials before placing our order.

View the full album HERE !

In the latter half of the week, I was feeling undeniably hoarse. I continued to screech through calls beyond the morning hours, then experienced ominous throat pain. There was also nausea, a mild cough, and loss of appetite - all of which pointed to a potential contraction of flu.

Weekend plans with my browsing partner became subject to review. The original itinerary was evaluated against my physical ability to execute the stops. Foregoing the last weekend of holiday festivities wasn't in the plans, so I was determined to power through a downtown day regardless.

​​​Departure was delayed as I scrambled to ready myself in nice attire for the rare outing. Contrasting against my preppy ensemble, my browsing partner arrived donning the usual casual pieces, which later proved to be insufficient in terms of providing warmth.

Signifying our arrival in the downtown core was none other than the sights of residents of the street. Little had changed since my transition away from Toronto, for the regulars remained perched in their usual spots, either sheltered under overpasses or huddled over air vents. Amusingly, one even had a tree, inclusive of ornaments and a single gift of Ensure.

​I was familiar with the Green P lot directly underneath City Hall from the perspective of a commuter, but never as a driver. Rates were reasonable, but only if not intending to stay past the 6 PM mark. Impark's Bell Trinity Square lot was the better option was all-day stays.

​Returning to Nathan Phillips Square instilled a sense of nostalgia. Suddenly, the lofty tree outside City Hall transformed into a photo-worthy attraction. The weekend had also summoned a different crowd (those without laptops) onto the premises.

We headed towards Eaton Centre via the Bay Street mid-block crossing. Candy Cane Lane assumed a popular photo stop for many visitors; while I'd normally stride past on my former lunch walks, I paused this time around to partake in photos and help others looking to capture the scene.

Our Eaton Centre objective was none other than the Holiday Light Show. Meandering towards the centre court, I caught sight of a cluster of police personnel huddled about a man outside Indigo. Passerbys were unable to view the man's face due from beyond the huddle, merely catching glimpses of disheveled hair and grunts. What a warm welcome to downtown!

Returning annually, the mall's Holiday Light & Snow Show had been elevated from previous years with the addition of Canadiana-themed projections and comparatively elaborate light configurations. Instead of operating at designated times on weekdays and weekends, the show had been rescheduled to illuminate hourly between mid-November and January 2nd, facilitating attendance accordingly.

​​With about four minutes to go, we hurriedly took our positions. Hovering by the third floor railings would provide unobstructed views and maintain ergonomic position of the neck, though I was keen on being enveloped in the artificial snow that would conclude the arrangement.

The sequence was undeniably better than past years, and rightfully crowned an attraction worth travelling for. Beyond its signature all-red appearance, the tree also transitioned between blue and purple! We were caught off guard by the abundance of fake snow, which clung to our hair and spectacles with no intention of detaching even with aggressive wiping.

When I first joined this workplace, I was convinced that not a single employee knew the meaning of work-life balance. To be frank, I still don't think the delineation is as distinct as those living the downtown - or downtown commuter - life. Yet, the reactions I witnessed in real time lead me to believe that the workplace wasn't as dire as once thought.

​Needless to say, I was less than enthusiastic about returning to the office. I enjoyed my days at home, munching on Taiwan souvenirs while shielded from the blistering winds of a true Canadian winter. Social interactions were the sole element to be missed from office attendance. And of course, the gorgeous sunset gradients!

​When I unveiled the doors to the familiar space, I was welcomed by an abundance of festive decorations. A Turkey Dinner Lunch poster informed me of an impending potluck with a turkey centrepiece - not that anyone had told me, of course.

​Near the window, two slow cookers simmered away at the sizable birds, their cooking aromas detectable by all those perched in the proximity.

​Incredible was this holiday feast! In addition to two extremely tender turkeys (deboned by upper management themselves!) were mashed sweet potatoes, salad, momos (the dumpling kind), roasted beets, fried rice, and more. The dessert table was equally brimming with goodies.

​Lunch in tow, I resorted to assembling a container to take home; placed within were: macaroni salad, potatoes, heirloom tomato salad, roasted beets, as well as turkey fitted with a ladle of cranberry sauce. Consumed later that evening as dinner, I must admit that the spread was scrumptious!

While the West Coast was disgustingly devoid of holiday decor, the same sentiment did not apply back home. Along with the lofty specimen that had been illuminated during Light Up The Square, the Civic Centre lobby featured two additional trees. One had been constructed entirely of potted poinsettias, which, I can confirm, were maintained regularly by staff in the early hours of the work day.

​An overcast, snowy day led me to the warmth of the mall. Again, a plethora of holiday installations were witnessed. The season of shopping had also given rise to limited-time retail events.

Browsing briefly, I noted the arrival of Zootopia - not Zootopia 2!!! - merchandise at Miniso and the availability of matcha at yogen fruz. Bingz had also disappeared from the food court, its storefront now replaced with an olive green banner indicating the imminent arrival of a Middle Eastern confectionery shop.

​Further festivities awaited me at the midway point of the week. An offsite team potluck welcomed us at the Burnhamthorpe Community Centre.

Based off the dismal pizza and pop lunch and astoundingly varied breakfast potuck, I wasn't quite sure what to expect of this event. Ping Pong was unexpected, as was Greek catering. Sponsored by the "leadership team", the quantity of chicken souvlaki and salad was rather meager. A veggie tray served to supplement the trays' contents.

Not even a week would pass before I tired of the mucky, grey scene outside. Another day, another downpour. Beyond suppressing any desires to venture out into the world, it further worsened already appalling driving conditions.

The day started with a Staples run, wherein parking spaces were few and drivers wielding their ungodly wide SUVs traversed down the centre of the drive aisles instead of adhering to the right. Basic driving training was an obvious void. Had I had not been equipped with ample driving experience, inclusive of 401 rush hour defenses, I'd have declared it dangerous to maneuver about the 2 km radius. 

At Staples, I was reunited with the World's Softest Plush, still beautifully rosy in hue and huggable as ever.

​We then headed towards Costco, as per my proposal. The route, despite being just seven minutes long, wasn't intuitive by any means. Unclear signage led me onto a freeway ramp, hence doubling travel time. Driving during daytime hours with precipitation was tragic enough, but, once darkness settled, it was at least three times worse.

​Thankfully, the odd Thursday saw acceptable visitor volumes. I secured a ridiculously convenient space in close proximity to the entrance. After carefully checking both ways for incompetent drivers, we scurried into the warehouse for some indoor window shopping therapy.

​Plenty of the Kirkland-branded inventory were also available at my home stores. However, several snacks were not. Exclusive products included strawberry-shaped gummies, locally produced beef jerky, various types of bird's nest products, and more. I struggled to resist the gargantuan bag of Caramel Popcorn Turtle Chips, eventually succumbing to its allure before confirming availability of luggage space. The same sentiment extended towards a pack of Loaker Tortina, which had seen prices settling in at $5 per 63 g box - essentially double that of the 2023 Eataly sale!

​The sheer abundance of samples was another staggering revelation. From prosciutto to crackers to coffee, the varieties were seemingly endless, and plentiful as well! I had never seen intact slices of crackers or meat being provided in the GTA.

​Once the transaction for snacks had terminated, I meandered over towards the readymade food section.

Not seeing any exclusives, we decided to share a Vanilla/Chocolate Ice Cream Cone, just like the good ol' days. Gargantuan cone in hand, we shifted towards the standing dining area. Picnic tables were not present at this location. A mother and daughter duo later casually 搭檯ed without so much as a respectful salutation. ​We didn't mind much, but I did wish they had presented some basic manners in the interaction instead of leaning into our table when negative reactions were not expressed.

It isn't uncommon for West Coast winter mornings to be dreary and overcast. That said, when paired alongside dusty construction sites and constant drizzles, the sight quickly grew depressing - sickening, even.

I was hesitant to set foot into the outside world, until the skies began to clear around lunchtime. We deemed it fitting to venture out for a mid-day meal, gleefully soaking in the rare sunny blue skies.

​McArthur Glen Outlet featured some of the best - and perhaps only! - Christmas décor in the vicinity. The installations ranged from nutcracker figures to poinsettia orbs to garlands edged with shiny, scarlet spheres identical to those adorning the strangely symmetrical tree.

Parking was also less troublesome than I had envisioned; the expansive asphalt lot offered plenty of options in the proximity of the main entrance as well as the Templeton SkyTrain station.