​Have you ever wondered about the science behind "opposites attract"? Proven matches include: yin and yang; black and white; maximal and minimal.
For those familiar with this space, one may be aware of my far-from-minimal tendencies. In contrast, a select few friends, revolve around the basic necessities of life. And that may perhaps be the exact element resulting in harmony.

​A weekend visit to Hub marked my first bouldering session. Aside from one of the facility members chiding my use of dishwashing gloves (Hey, calluses are painful, you know!), it was an all-around enjoyable duration of exercise.
We distributed our time between the beginner bouldering wall, the auto-belay Learner's Area, and the Augmented Reality room. Once fatigue began to creep in, we retired from bouldering (in fear of falling in an ghastly position and resorted to belaying - significantly more controlled alternative.

The next item on the itinerary was picking up bubble tea for two members of the group who had voluntarily skipped out on the day's physical activity. While I did succumb to purchasing a set of five discount Coconut Buns, willpower had been embraced in the form of a Kale Banana Soy Smoothie. Hub had been kind enough to provide refrigerator (via a staff member) and outlet access, which made the entire process easier.

Several rounds of Super Smash Bros. later, we bid farewell yet again and headed to the city's own Koreatown for sustenance - Man Doo Hyang, as per my not-so-humble suggestion.​

My dining partner took to a hearty bowl of Kimchi Jjigae, while my eyes darted back and forth across the menu. Eventually, I settled on the Mandu Hot Pot for two. The enormous portion comprised of six housemade dumplings, flat rice cakes (sliced garaeddeok), chopped vegetables, bits of beef, and heaps of kalguksu simmering away in a kimchi-based broth. Delectable was this, for it filled the void for fluffy dumplings; the craving that had been triggered from my previous visit was satisfied at long last.

​The last time I purchased an album without pre-order benefits likely dates back to DAY6's Sunrise. The online ordering system far exceeds physical trips to music stores in terms of convenience and efficiency. However, there are times when one cannot justify EMS shipping, and times where patience is a virtue that is wholeheartedly embraced.

Seldom it is that I'd embark on a journey purely for the sake of obtaining an album - a previous trip centred around a single task was much too time-consuming. That said, I opted to incorporate supper with friends; prior to that was a short-lived visit at Rustle & Still.

​I remain on the hunt for the perfect Matcha White Chocolate Chip Cookie, for the void in my heart - er, stomach - remains unfilled with Put A Cone On It's unexpected departure from Koreatown.
​
It's highly regrettable to say that the succulent-filled cafe did not fulfill such a yearning: their rendition was not only satiating, but also crumbly to the point where it was impossible to consume without the specimen shattering in countless tiny shards. Inelegant nibbling process aside, I was particularly unfond of the green-tinged grease dissipating from the mound. Commonly a consequence of an insufficient amount of dry ingredients, the one-year-old cafe ought to have taken the appropriate remedial measures the ensure the delivery of tried-and-true recipes.

​This was possibly the most depressing cookie I've tasted to date. The remaining half was stuffed back into its splotchy, oil-stained paper bag; I simply could not bring myself to devour it in its entirety.

​While waiting for a particular Thai ahgase to make her appearance, I conducted a thorough review of my newest acquisition: JUS2's "FOCUS" EP. Sleek and groovy was the vibe being emitted from the photoshoot. The concept images fell in step with the general sound of the SENSES-filled selection of tracks.

​JB's album message was one that stuck with me, for he noted that enjoyment would be doubled by listening with earbuds. Guess I shall have to try that.

​Our departure from the cafe was succeeded by a visit to Starbucks, then an impromptu coin karaoke session to pass time. I was mindblown that this activity had existed in the city all this time.

​A different friend led us towards Echo, a spot that neither of us fangirls had ever stepped foot into, then up the stairs to the main desk. Five dollars earned us ten minutes of singing time in a private room. This equated to approximately five or six songs.

Albeit a tad cramped (and warm) for three participants, the room was quite cozy and ideal for an intimate belting session. By the time we had reached the last tune, a call was received from Mapo. Our table was ready.

​An estimated twenty-minute wait passed in the blink of an eye, and we were immediately ushered into a roomy booth near the cashier.

​As Yelpers had noted, the interior was comparable to that of Daldongnae, given the seating layout and heavy dependence of wooden elements. However, the comprehensive experience was beyond the likes of my uptown ordeal.

​Instead of being confined into a tiny, dimly-lit wooden booth, we were offered a properly illuminated table with ample space to move and set down our belongings. An abundance of decorative elements filled the space, reminiscent of Sikgaek's 40's style poster art (think Rosie the Riveter's 'We Can Do It!'). A handful of tables with backless Stainless steel stools were distributed throughout the restaurant; amusing signage such as "여자 말을 잘 듣자" (translation: "Listen carefully/well to the words of women") was hoisted above the stairwell to the downstairs bathroom. According to our native Korean member of the party, this was, by far, the most authentic setup he was familiar with.

< Pictured above and below: TB3 별집삼겹살 (Honey Pork Belly), TB4 생목살 (Pork Neck), 바베큐 된장찌게 (Doenjang Jjigae), Rice, TB1 돼지갈비 (Pork Kalbi) >

​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.

I've been purposely delaying my haircut past the two-month mark. hb Salon was an all-around average experience, even though the stylist did manage to tame my unruly ends.

It was my choice to revert back to Hair Bank in K-town. And with Put A Cone On It's slated re-opening, I figured I could kill two birds with one stone by delaying the trimming procedure.

"(That is a) RISKY (endeavour)" orangecane had warned. But my optimism prevailed.

​​Of course, the tale was as she (and Google) had predicted. The door was shuttered, the lights dim, and the interior an abandoned mishmash of wooden planks, garbage bins, and the remnants of my favourite Koreatown café.
​It was official. Put A Cone On It was no more. (Odd of them to delay the update of their website, though.)

I proceeded with my haircut, where a lady with Sk8ter Boi-esque eye makeup and tacky bubble gum pink lips welcomed me to her chair. She snipped away at an alarming speed, much like the ahjusshi from the uptown location. However, despite the flat bangs, the results were far superior. Unlike with the owner of the salon, a small language barrier lay between us: a request for no flat iron-ing somehow ended up with bouncy waves, using the very tool I had demanded not to be used.

​An hour and a half later, I met up with orangecane, who shamelessly called me back to P.A.T. after I had already crossed diagonally. It was all for the sake of listening to the rest of a specific album. She acquired her Custard Taiyaki and Jollypong, whereas I happily picked up an Orion Squid Peanut.

Continuing onwards, I secured my regular order of walnut cakes and hoddeok from Hodo Kwaja. It was at this point that we began to browse the area for something to do until dinnertime. The lady behind the counter - who knows me all too well from my binge purchases over the past few years - suggested board games at Snakes & Lattes, or rock climbing at Basecamp.
Basecamp was extremely compact in comparison to Hub, and seeing as I had already purchased a temporary membership, there was little incentive to invest in the sport at such a grand distance from home. A pungent whiff of curry slapped us squarely in the face as we pulled open the door to Snakes & Lattes; I recoiled. We promptly stepped back outside and commenced an aimless journey eastward.

​The Annex Food Hall assumed a brief slot in our itinerary.
By the time we had reached Bay station, the sky had dimmed to a solemn sapphire. After assimilating with two other members, off we went for sustenance (and sake).

​When I had visited last, Kinka had been as Guu. Over three years have since passed, yet the menu and atmosphere remain the same as I recalled of the North York location.

​As we hadn't made reservations in advance, our sole option was to reside at the bar. Space was extremely limited: not only were we unable to share our orders between the group, I was bound by the weight of my bulky backpack - newly-acquired snacks and all - due to the absence of hooks. The cubby space embedded into the bar stool proved insufficient for my needs. Not all was in vain, however, since we obtained an unobstructed view of the bar. Illumination was adequate, and jackets could be hung up on a coat rack to free up space.

​We ordered our dishes in small bursts, as suggested by one member of the group. "They come all at once." He warned, "And there isn't enough space."
orangecane and I had opted for two stone pot dishes, so they were actually amongst the last of the first round of items to arrive. Our sake flight, on the other hand, was presented in a matter of minutes.

In my opinion, Kinka Sake was a good starter.
"It tastes like water." came a contradicting remark.

Asian Pear was fragrant, but lacked depth. Izumi, otherwise known as the Bamboo Sake, was the unanimous winner of the trio. Its profile was clean and refreshing, yet packed a noticeable punch.

​Finding greens on the menu wasn't challenging, since the tapas were already sorted in their respective categories on the menu. The challenge was agreeing on a style we could enjoy collectively. Eventually, due to the awkward corner spacing, we selected our items in groups of two.

View the full album HERE !

​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.

​The first day of the month hit me with a wake-up call, in the most literal sense thinkable.
Whatever poor feasting decisions I've committed in the past cannot continue. I am no longer a young soul, thus my actions are tied to specific consequences. Taking note of others' unhealthy habits is something I do frequently and naturally. It's high time to commence the process of rectifying my own.

​Let the journey to health begin!!
Or, as I'd like to rephrase it: The 豬年唔再做豬大作戦.

​1) Congee to soothe an enervated digestive system
2) A Matcha Almond Milk Shake (made disppointing as a result of low-grade matcha)
3) Offsetting winter blues with a colourful lunch bowl

4) Honey Butter Chips - the "Winter Warmers" Edition
Sadly, the Caramel Almond flavour falls short of both the Original and Maple editions.

​5) White Cake with Peaches
The consequence of utilizing all the yolks in the fridge for custard, and then overheating said custard to a runny disaster, is a White Cake. In other words, it is a cake constructed with egg whites and devoid of yolks.

​A tad stiffer than a traditional cake, it is important to glaze the surface with sugar syrup and pair it with a fat-heavy counterpart to supplement moisture and flavour. (Mind you that I had combined the ingredients in the incorrect order, causing large, non-uniform air bubbles to appear in the batter.)

Seeing as this was not a successful cake execution, the recipe shall not be making its way over to What I Make until perfected and finalized.

​6) Gifts from Korea from a fangirl that knows my inner desires all too well

Since our visit to BNC - er, Tokyo Cheese Cake by BNC - I had been reminded that I had yet to visit Kobi, despite the fact that it was no longer a new opening on the west end.

The opportunity arrived when a Thai ahgase reached out to inform me of her availability. We went about our errands at the mall (Hi Amber!), broke a solid sweat at Playdium, then headed over to the KBBQ restaurant just as rush hour dissipated for the evening.

​One of my greatest fears (and peeves) is arriving at an establishment, famished, only to be told a wait would ensue. Thankfully, this was not the case. Kobi was at approximately 25% capacity when we entered.

There was no host by the entrance. We remained stationary until a middle-aged man looked over at us; "Table for two" I uttered while forming a peace sign. He responded with a slightly annoyed glare, to an extent where I wondered if I had mistaken a patron as a member of managerial staff. My initial hunch was correct, however, for he cast a glance at a younger male who was clad in uniform. I repeated my request to him, at which point he rapidly grabbed two menus and sauntered over to one of the booths. A silent "Please come this way." rang in my head, and we followed suit.

​The booths were quite spacious, comfortably seating two or even four more customers. Its faux suede lining was on the grimier side, with little grey spots here and there; frankly, I hadn't expected the cleanest dining environment anyway. Splashes and spltters are inevitable when one cooks at the table.
Two grills spots were found on the table: one rectangular and the other circular.

​We browsed the menu with scrutiny, for our cravings lay with grilled meat in ssam wraps accompanied with a bubbling ring of egg and/or cheese. There simply wasn't an item that offered this. Ultimately, we settled for the Tofu Kimchi & Pork, swapping the tofu for cheese (at no additional cost), and an order of Beef Dumplings.
The server provided us with hot tea in Stainless steel mugs, side dishes, and, later, a jug of cold water.

The banchan set comprised of: kimchi, pickled cucumbers with red pepper flakes, soft radish strips with broccoli florets, green beans, and rapini. All were tasty and distinctly flavoured, with the rapini earning the highest praise. Neither of us gravitated towards the kimchi, for there was a substantial amount in the entrée already. Kobi's rendition was the middle ground between Nuri Village and Sikgaek: delicious yet not entirely mild. Evident was the heavy usage of 고추가루 (gochugaru).

​The Tofu Kimchi & Pork arrived on a segmented round plate. In the centre was a mixture of kimchi and cooked slices of lean pork (think shabu shabu-style strips), while shredded mozzarella, corn kernels, and a few pieces of pineapple filled the outer ring. Our grill was fired up once the dish had been set on the table, such to melt the cheese ring and maintain warmth of the meat.
Four degrees of spiciness were available: Spicy, Regular, Mild, and Non (none??). We had opted for the "Mild" level. Admittedly, this was more fiery than expected. Given our low tolerances, bowls of rice were requested shortly afterwards. We also drained the cold water as the meal progressed.

​Chinese New Year just doesn't feel complete without witnessing a Lion Dance or a visit from the 財神 (God of Wealth). Although we hadn't seen the bearded man clad in red at our yearly festival visit, we did manage to make it to Square One's Holt Renfrew for the jubilant performance.

​A lion dance team with relatively young members had been invited for the occasion - one duo maneuvering the red dragon, and another a yellow one

​Following the joyous event, we proceeded eastward for bingsoo. Needless to say, the idea had been wholly mine.

BNC Bakery had popped up on Insta-searches several times while researching bingsoo establishments in the vicinity. Too late had I discovered its long-time reign in Mississauga. Apparently, it had been around long before Snowies.