There's no one that convince me that the Mugwort x White Chocolate combination isn't meant to me. Having experienced tempering hiccups in my last attempt at the pairing, I decided to undergo a second experiment.

Sunday Baking's Levain cookie base has resulted in the best result thus far, so I adhered to the formula as a guideline for adaptation.

The modified ingredient list is as follows:

• 120 g unsalted butter
• 60 g brown sugar
• 50 g granulated sugar
• 1 egg
•  ̶1̶5̶0̶ ̶g̶ ̶A̶P̶ ̶f̶l̶o̶u̶r̶ → 125 g AP flour + 25 g mugwort
• 5 g cornstarch
• 1/2 tsp baking powder
• 1/4 tsp baking soda
• pinch of salt
• vanilla extract
•  ̶1̶2̶0̶ → 150 g chopped white chocolate, plus more to top

Yield: 18 cookies, using 1.5 tbsp cookie scoop

At first glance, I noted three glaring issues:

1. Proportion: The white chocolate had been chopped too fine, actively infusing into the dough as the cookie baked. Larger chunks (greater than 1 cm) would contribute gustatory interest in terms of texture and flavour without compromising overall harmony. It had been a good decision to include the whole couverture piece on top.
2. Flour: There wasn't enough flour, causing the bottoms of the cookies to ooze grease within the first three hours of being removed from the oven. Mugwort did not offer the same stabilizing power as flour, thus a 1:1 swap is not recommended. The cookies emerged thinner and flatter than boasting the signature Levain height and substantiality. I also reckon that I could add a hint more baking powder, or let the dough rest briefly to control spread and improve rise.
3. Temperature: The oven temperature was either too low, causing the cookies to spread more readily, or too hot, causing the chocolate centre to crack before the rest of the dough baked through. Admittedly, this concern is unrelated to the procedure itself and lies with the fault of my finnicky oven (that is due for replacement at any time now).

I had been absolutely correct about the mugwort-white chocolate pairing, as the sweetness of the white chocolate offset the intense earthiness of mugwort, while retaining its complex, slightly bitter properties. Those appreciative of matcha could likely take a liking to mugwort as well. That said, for the purposes of serving the masses, I was fully aware that mugwort is an uncommon ingredient and a wholly acquired taste.

​With the member of upper management out of office for one week (Why couldn't it be longer??), I found myself finally being able to breathe - not knowing I had been holding my breath this whole time. Besides being able to use the bathroom freely, being freed of traumatic call sounds, and being able to gain a sense of peace for critical thinking, I could also resume my regular work-from-home activities, such as crafting iced beverages as afternoon pick-me-ups. Oolong tea and lemonade may not have been the best combo though.
Albeit a condensed period of relief, my sanity desperately needed it.

"If I'm free and it's open, then we can go."

Since returning from Korea, I had made it known to my browsing partner that not having had jjajangmyeon (and taiyaki, amongst other local fare) was unacceptable. The response was another infuriating shrug, to which I responded that "We should go to Paik's to make up for it."

Victoria Day long weekend offered an additional day to account for unanticipated delays. While I was still much further behind in my chores than I'd like to admit, I reckoned that there would be no better time to venture all the way to Thornhill than a three-day weekend.

I requested - begged, even! - that we would merely make the trip for dinner and return without dwelling. My browsing partner grudgingly agreed, though didn't hesitate to demonstrate dragging feet at our time of parting.

Departing at 6:15 PM, our commute to the northeast end of the GTA approximated just 40 minutes on the statutory holiday.
Paik's Noodle was situated in a commercial plaza on Steeles between Bayview and Leslie, joined by Shoppers, LCBO, RBC, a karate studio, Subway, and a cannabis store. Except for Tim Hortons, the asphalt lot was practically empty at our time of arrival.

Needless to say, we did not need to wait for a table, in spite of the handful of Google Reviews that indicated otherwise.​

Upon being seated, we were provided two Stainless steel cups, a Stainless steel teapot, and a trio of danmuji, jjajang (?) sauce, and sliced raw onions. Affixed to the edge of the table was a tablet to facilitate ordering. A plastic-lined bucket (Korea D5 P2)rested near the tablet, likely serving as the disposal vessel for shellfish discard.
Utensils, napkins, and condiments were located in a two-drawer compartment bolted to the opposite end of the table. While this configuration was exceptionally convenient - especially during peak hours when servers are busy tending to order delivery - the wooden box was intensely uncomfortable to sit with. I could slide towards the centre of the booth to avoid constant bumping of my knee, but my browsing partner often ate at a distance from the table due to the clunky under-table installation.

​Physical menus were replaced entirely using the touchpad, allowing patrons to browse to their heart's desire while comparing prices between order sizes. For any additional inquiries, such as allergy concerns, a generic "Call Staff" button was available at the lower left corner of the screen.

A Small Jjajangmyeon set us back just $8.99! The Large size was a toonie more at $10.99. Both options were extremely budget-friendly, as the market price for jjajangmyeon is well above $12, nearing $15.
True to its claim of being a signature dish, the Black Bean Noodles were positively scrumptious! The noodles exhibited bounce and chewiness, while the sauce was savoury without being excessively salty. Crispy pieces of onion and cabbage topped the concoction. In contrast to its ingredient warning of pork, I could scarcely find any trace of meat in the shallow dish. Cucumber slices adorning its surface were also omitted, though yellow pickled radish could be requested free of charge.

​As a lover of jjajangmyeon, Paik's version definitely delivered in terms of complexity and consistency. My sole gripe is simply the absence of meat.

Modern technology has enabled products to arrive on our doorstep within a matter of days - or even minutes for items requested through UberEats. A seemingly perfect solution to keep consumerism alive, headaches arise when large purchases arrive when one is not at home to receive them, or when the item ordered is far weightier than fathomed.

With supposed corporate reimbursement, I finally splurged on a standing desk.
The only issue? I couldn't move it into my house.

Not only was the weighty box unable to be rolled or dragged, I could barely even lift it off the wall! Finally, after pulling my back and further injuring my wrist and shoulder, I succeeded in transferring it to a wheeled cart for temporary storage in the garage. For the time being, it would be safe from forecasted showers.
Later that evening, I received the gracious assistance of my neighbours, who not only swiftly lifted the table into the foyer, but even offered to assemble the desk for me! I would have gladly accepted, had I made space for the sizable piece of furniture. But alas, I'll admit I hadn't planned that far. Both my new monitors and new desk would reside in their respective boxes until such time I could purge an area for staging.

In the meantime, I'd undergo office preparations, readying my Honey Cakes with allergen information and container warnings.

​Unfortunately, not a soul would draw near the Honey Cakes. Had I not walked around with the tray in hand, offering them to various members of the floor, they'd not move an inch! This was a scene utterly unheard of at my previous workplace. Snacks, no matter the kind, were seen as exclusive - in other words, for consumption by distinct teams and not intended for sharing. This territorial nature was equal parts confusing and unattractive.

​As if distributing the cakes personally wasn't enough of a hassle, one colleague unashamedly insinuated an otherwise unnecessary remark.

After declining a honey cake, he followed up with "So you like baking? Do you bake often?", to which, of course, I answered in the affirmative. While conversations with non-bakers usually end here, he continued his interrogation.
"Do you have an Instagram page for it?"
I furrowed my brows, perplexed at the question.
"No?"
"Oh so you're not serious about it (baking)."
Immediately recoiling, I replied that I do capture photo evidence of my creations and log recipes into spreadsheets.
Of course, neither of these points mattered, for the man was determined to present his biased stance.
He announced that he knew "someone who posts and gets orders to make things", and slid the baker's social media feed in my direction. He then mentioned that they were neighbours, and he often receives baked goods as a result of proximity.

Beyond perplexed at this point, I attempted to understand the exchange, but ultimately could not.
What is the relationship between posting photos and being "serious" about a hobby that they enjoy?
For all he could be aware, I could be a hidden professional and never tell anyone, and never post a single photo. Furthermore, my distribution of the goods is merely for the purpose of sharing. Anyone who had ever sampled my creations prior would know that I could easily sell my products, but I had chose not to.

Politely declining a cake is absolutely fine.
Commentary that is neither nice nor relevant to the food at hand was unwarranted.
In the wise words of my former coworker, "take the cake and eat it fam."

​Beautiful blue skies and blossoming shrubs were observed on my way towards the mall.

​The main objective was scouring the closing sale assortment of Frank & Oak. Unfortunately, the shelves were practically empty at my time of arrival. As the staff chattered cheerfully without a single glance in my direction, I made my departure for other stops of interest.

​Simons was an unplanned detour, yet one that bestowed me with fabulous finds! The sale section led to the discovery of $9.99 knits and $19.99 blouses - all of which served as great options to expand my workwear wardrobe.

My third week on the job catapulted me into a series of training sessions, both virtual and physical. The former is comparatively forgiving, for, at the very least, I have the liberty of standing, stretching, and using the bathroom as required. The latter serves as a gradual decline of energy levels and attention span, for being bound to one's seat for extended periods of time induces restlessness, thus lessening the overall willingness to absorb new information.

With that said, I utilized every possible pocket to roam. Walking was vital to my overall disposition and wellness.

The return of Smile Cookies prompted many visits to my nearby Timmies. For this season, they would be raised to a price of two dollars per cookie and exempt from earning points via the Tim Hortons' app. While I was pleased with neither decision, the entirety of its earnings being donated to a local charity somewhat sufficed as justification. Ultimately, my intention to partake in the annual-turned-semi-annual initiative was not swayed.

​A former Toronto colleague informed me of her cookie pulls. Donning deranged demeanours, she joked that they were reflective of the downtown community.

​Meanwhile, my pulls were unquestionably tamer - adorable even!

The city's initiative to introduce magnolia trees to the Queen Elizabeth Jubilee Garden and Celebration Square had also not gone unnoticed.

​Despite the buds being oddly shrivelled, their rosy pink presence nevertheless brightened the gathering space in a way that announced the arrival of spring.

​Of course, as far as Ontario weather goes, there is never such a thing as guaranteed spring.

​Lunchtime would again see perusal of the mall.

When my eyes opened to yet another Monday, I was overcome with anxiety once more. The sporadic bursts of lightheadedness hadn't faded. Recovery had been inadequate. Nevertheless, I peeled myself away from the safe cradle of the bed and proceeded with preparations.

​It was a gloomy, gusty day. A handful of employees had likely extended their long weekend by one more day, for the parking garage was noticeably empty.

The mid-morning saw a "coffee walk" around Square One. At first, I had wondered why all retailers were still shuttered. In verifying the time of day, I realized I had never once roamed the mall quarters at the early hour of 9 AM.

A few select establishments were open, namely Walmart, Tim Hortons, and Au Pain Doré.
Promotional posters for Hot Cross Buns at the latter caught my attention initially, but the Chocolate Moelleux was the item ultimately acquired from the short-lived saunter.

The cashier depicted the specimen with a "chocolate mousse"-like texture. However, sampling the extra-dense portion with a tongue depressor wooden spoon back in the office, it was found to be an incredibly rich ganache instead.

The aluminum container in which it resided was greasy on the outside and lined with specks of granulated sugar on the inside. Having not dissolved completely during the baking process, one could perceive visible patches of condensation incited by the sugar particles along the interior circumference.
Served chilled, the Chocolate Moelleux resembled a hybrid of a ganache and an upright molten lava cake. Interestingly, the ganache was not uniform, instead featuring a viscous yet pliable centre and fully set edges. There weren't any distinctively alluring elements to the concoction, thus I deemed a repurchase at $4.75 plus tax to be unwarranted. For my purposes, I could create a similar product with minimal effort using excess ganache.

I returned to am excruciatingly long morning, which led me into noon. The immediate task at hand was dropping off donations at Hazel McCallion Central Library. The convenient drop-off location constituted the ideal opportunity to participate in the city's Recycling Collection Drive.

Afterwards, I braved a drizzly trek into the mall.
While there were a number of ongoing sales and promotions, MEC offered not a single cycling glove for testing and evaluation.

That evening, I decided against a second consecutive office day. Woes were drowned in Black Sesame Glutinous Rice Balls with yellow cane sugar syrup.

Emerging as a consequence of my work-from-home breather were Ginger Molasses Cookies, the sole recipe from Smitten Kitchen Keepers that I've crafted again and again.

There was two deviations from her recipe: my go-to substitution of fresh ginger for candied ginger and the not-so-novel inclusion of Gingerbread Finishing Sugar in addition to turbinado for coating. Any increased gingerbread-y essences were indistinguishable, and the cookie was rendered utterly cloying as a result.

​I paired the batch with the last of two packs of Drip Coffee from 곁에, relishing in the beverage more than the staggeringly sweet specimen in hand.

With great power comes great responsibility.
Unfortunately, in my case, only one applies. (Hint: It's not the former.)

​Following a brief break of snacking and matcha latte-ing, I entered into my new position without too many thoughts. After all, I had just returned from vacation not long ago, with the strike-related concerns chasing its start.

​Glad I was to now be granted a far nicer commute of twenty minutes. That said, I was utterly unaware of the situation that would unfold over the subsequent few days.

​The office was great - a tall building with underground parking, separate towers for public and security-controlled access, and brilliant views of the surrounding scenery. Of course, Square One was in extremely close proximity as well. Most of the open cubicles had been equipped with modern setups, including charging stations supporting Type C, universal docking stations, and sit-stand desks. IT was great too - many topics of interest were digitalized and easily accessible by employees old and new.

However, the downsides of the new position soon became evident.
For starters, the workload was beyond imaginable. The team comprised of just four in total, myself included. The transition of responsibilities would ensue before I was even fully onboarded. Worst of all, I'd be left in the dark about IT equipment, benefits, mandatory training, and more.

I had little to no time alone on my first day, which I hardly expected. At least I'd be left to poke around the intranet, or so I thought.

A lengthy morning meeting eventually led into noon. I departed for the mall for errands, not knowing it was just a five-minute walk away. The trip between Square One and Celebration Square always averaged at least ten minutes by car.

After procurement of Lindt couverture, I was due to return for my second round of "training" meetings, wolfing down a Gold Bunny just prior.

With my days of being a valid TPL cardholder coming to an end, I began to review outstanding destinations of interest on the TPL Map list. The Toronto Zoo surfaced as a candidate of value, given that no other known source would grant complimentary admission. (PRESTO perks would save 20% at best.)

I successfully reserved a Saturday spot prior to vacation, but, as the day of the planned visit drew near, I found fatigue overwhelming me. There were few days remaining until the job transition, and tirelessly had I slaved within the walls of my house to accomplish all the tasks outstanding.

Grudgingly, I went. Departing at the early hour of 9:30 AM had been my proposal, for risking loss of exercise time was not in the agenda. In the face of inadequate rest, I slid into the passenger seat reluctantly, eventually dozing off periodically with my head bobbing involuntarily over the course of the commute.

There was minimal traffic along our route. By the time we had pulled into the asphalt lot, it was just 10:16 AM.
"Let's leave at 2 PM." I announced.
My browsing partner had nodded in acknowledgement, however I knew it was too good to be true. The concept of time is finite for me, yet (regrettably) fluid for others. As expected, we wouldn't be able to depart until every section of the zoo had been covered. In this sense, it worked in my favour that not all sections were viewable by the due to climatic needs of animals.

​The entrance of the zoo was different from my recollection, likely since ongoing construction resulted in pedestrian detours. Traversing from the parking area to the entrance involved meandering about construction fences at dedicated pedestrian crossings. Signage was ample, thankfully so, as the crossing was situated at the parking egress area, just before the toll gates.

Parking was charged at a flat rate of $20. Visitors had the option of paying via QR code or upon exit with the assistance of a staff member.

​The entrance area was bustling with families with young children even within the attraction's first hour of operation. That said, I found the bathroom facilities quite pristine; whether or not it was owed to the early hour and comparatively lower visitor volumes is uncertain. Kitschy and inviting was the underwater theme. I also appreciated the hooks along the counter for placing bags while handwashing and a hand-drying mechanisms built into the counter, one allocated per faucet and soap dispenser set.

Maps were positioned throughout the facility: one providing an overall view of the zoo grounds and another providing a detailed view of the area in which one was standing.

​I was utterly indifferent to our itinerary, given that my presence was to enable entry (presentation of library card and reservation email; no ID required) and accompany my browsing partner in the leisurely browsing of animals. Had I been visiting for the first time, my approach may have been different, and my response energetic instead of lax.

​Australia was up first, primarily due to its proximity to the entrance/"Discovery Zone".

View the full album HERE !

Ingredient preparations finished the previous day, Sunday would mark the busiest of all weekends with nonstop baking and chores.

A total of three projects would ensue at 9 AM sharp:

1. Granola
2. Matcha White Chocolate Hazelnut Cookies
3. Tiramisu

​The cookies would be produced in bulk, intentionally for the purpose of bidding farewell to all those on my floor. On the other hand, the Tiramisu was an exclusive gift for my supervisor, who had played a vital role throughout my time from the very first day. With the pâte à bombe using two egg yolks, I saw the opportunity for another batch of scale-free granola.

Matcha White Chocolate Hazelnut Cookies

The cookies were adapted from Sunday Baking's 1 Batter 4 Types Korean Famous Ugly Cookies recipe. Instead of splitting the dough for different flavours, the base would be kept consistent for one large batch of matcha cookies.

Theoretically, the total cookie dough base should have weighed in at 350 g x 4 = 1400 g

Add-ins were scaled up 4x as follows:

•  ̶3̶2̶ ̶g̶   → 24 g matcha powder *
•  ̶1̶2̶0̶ ̶g̶  → 130 g chopped white chocolate
•  ̶1̶2̶0̶ ̶g̶  → 130 g toasted hazelnuts

​Yield: 50 cookies

Baked across four trays, the total yield was 50 cookies of roughly 2 inches in diameter. Due to the high proportion of baking powder, the cookies domed instead of spreading. Surface fissures were apparent across all batches; browning was particularly evident on the trays baked for longer. That said, the interiors did not vary vastly in moisture levels in spite of the noticeable colour change.

​I found the cookies generally tasty, but lacking in chocolate and subdued in grassiness. That said, not everyone enjoys the intense complexity of matcha, thus the resulting subtlety may have actually worked in my favour for office distribution.
Textural variance was minimal, as the specimen was mostly dry and crunchy. The amount of baking powder can probably be reduced to enable a soft, pliable center in the next iteration.

Tiramisu

Tiramisu is a creation whose authenticity is often overlooked in favour of simplicity. In reality, the traditional variation is hardly a last-minute compilation.

​Life lately has been exhausting to say in the least. Following my return from vacation, I've been keeping busy with plenty of transitional items, making the most of my last few trips downtown, and, of course, resuming routine as I know it.

While I've yet to review majority of my trip content, flashbacks of fond memories occasionally surface in my mind, paving the way for impromptu creations and detours.

Biscoff Basque Cheesecake

With strong impressions left by Wonder Cookies' vanilla-laced Basque Cheesecake and cream cheese readily available in the fridge, setting out to compile a Biscoff Basque Cheesecake took minimal effort.

Adapted from Sunday Baking's latest Basque Cheesecake formula, my rendition would omit vanilla bean and use 130 g of Crunchy Biscoff spread instead. In place of whipped cream, I substituted an equal amount of evaporated milk by mass. Indeed, evaporated milk is thinner than heavy cream, thus results in a reduction in fat content - and likely silkiness as well. That said, I'd like to think that the incorporation of the Biscoff spread compensated for smoothness in texture (due to existing stabilizers) and enhanced stability.
My final deviation from Sunday's recipe was omitting the step of straining the mixture, as this would separate the biscuit bits of the Crunchy Biscoff spread.

​Sunday instructs baking the cake in a convection oven at 420 F for 20 minutes. By this point, I have learned that my ever-unreliable standard-sized convection will never accomplish the job satisfactorily. The countertop toaster oven was set to 425 F, and my 7.7 inch Instantpot pan was slid within.
I had used a baking temperature of 425 F due the oven temperature settings increasing in intervals of 25 F. After 20 minutes of baking, I used the Broil function for about 1 minute, but quickly cut the heat to prevent the edges from setting too quickly.

The subsequent step was arguably the hardest: Waiting.

The cake was allowed to cool to room temperature on the stovetop before being transferred to the fridge, where it would rest until the next morning.

​After a grueling 23h wait, it was time to reveal the results. Patience had rewarded me: The cake was fantastic - absolutely perfect! 

Read Part 2 HERE !

​Dusk had fallen by the time we resurfaced at Myeongdong station some thirty minutes later. The evening gradient was irrefutably stunning, providing a blue-pink ombré backdrop for the infamous, multi-storey Daiso building.

​Surprisingly, we didn't enter the Daiso at all. Rather, we became distracted by The North Face flagship and entered into the building without a second thought.

​The product lineup was arranged across three floors. B1 was the equivalent of ground level, and featured a basic selection. It was also the busiest floor at our time of visit, naturally prompting me to escape to the upper levels.
Unfortunately, the other levels were strictly accessible by a single elevator; stairs were not an option. Due to its compact size, a member of staff hovered nearby to control entry numbers. A queue began to form in front of the elevator, and eventually cleared about three rounds of transporting customers up and down. Although the elevator offered service to the basement level as well, there were posted instructions to use the stairs outside the physical store as opposed to navigating directly. Suffice to say, the store design and navigability were remarkably poor.

I had my eye on level 1's White Label, for the collection was exclusive to Korea and advertised heavily by celebrities and media portals. Surely enough, posters and standees of celebrity spokespeople greeted us at entry. Promotional posters of Cha Eunwoo were positioned throughout the store. Meanwhile, an autographed standee of Jeon Somi was placed by the elevator.

Down coats were still thoroughly stocked, despite the arguably warm temperatures (low to mid teens). Both of us were drawn to the sale rack. While a discounted waterproof jacket caught my attention, the sizing and fit was off. I ultimately took to a small, black crossbody pouch instead, sheerly for the purpose of owning a White Label product. This floor also carried non-The North Face-branded items, thus allowing acquisition of an Outdoor Research waterproof cap by my browsing partner. The cashier noted the store did not issue instant tax refunds, but that customers could use the self-serve kiosk at the airport or in the store. As for the kiosk's precise coordinates, this was not specified.

I don't recall perusal of the Special Price/Pop-Up area on level 2, which leads me to believe that the floor was either closed or featured minimal items of interest. Generally speaking, the store offered a smaller selection than anticipated, with few sales to boot.

​Near the front of the store was a Hangul capsule collection. Crafted in collaboration with a local artist, the assortment spanned T-shirts, hats (beanies and caps), and canvas totes. In essence, the designs were simplistic, deriving from modern day Hangul and re-configured into a single symbol - or at least a compact variation of it.

I was intrigued by the 사람 design on black, but wasn't completely convinced to purchase. There was absolutely no shortage of bags in the store, causing me to debate between a multitude of black TNF canvas totes - some illustrating the silhouette of Seoul while others adorned with the Myeongdong label for specificity. In the end, I couldn't decide on any. All tote bags were returned to the shelves or racks from which they originated.