Returning to the unit, I was relieved of the heat, immediately catapulting myself into the shower and freshening up in preparation for Mango Cake.
Vancouver Ventures | DAY 5 (Pt. 2): Unveiling the Mango Cake + Fortune Terrace Chinese Dinner6/6/2024
I returned at 3 PM sharp. The round trip had been brief yet condensed, and unthinkably warm for Vancouver in June. Returning to the unit, I was relieved of the heat, immediately catapulting myself into the shower and freshening up in preparation for Mango Cake. QC procedures for the "sidekick cake" had concluded favourable results, allowing for extension towards the "main cake". Aside from the flavour profile, one of my greatest fears was with regard to cohesion: whether the layers of shaved mango would slide right off the cake, for the underlying layer was merely just whipped cream. In order to camouflage the broken segments of mango, chopped mango would be distributed in somewhat of a heart-shaped ring on top. The lack of uniformity wasn't very obvious, for it would be later obscured by the three-wick Birthday Girl candle. Without a proper lighter in the unit, I made grand attempts to ignite the celebratory installation with the flames of a gas burner. Placing it too close caused partial dissolution of the candle, though we ultimately succeeded in illuminating the sign along its entire width. Slicing into the cake would reveal a cross-section of sturdy yet sumptuous sponge and sizable pieces of fresh mango encased in airy whipped cream. Sharp incisions could be made with ease, revealing the individual layers for inspection and evaluation.
Constructing celebration-worthy cakes while in vacationing has emerged as a priority over the recent years. Striving to craft a better product than my Layered Birthday Cake of instant coffee-infused sponge and Swiss meringue-stabilized whipped cream two years ago, I brought along a spatula and scraper. Approximately thirty minutes would pass before I had assembled all the tools in the kitchen. From the mini rechargeable scale to Pyrex mixing bowls to cooling rack, not a single item had evaded being wrapped in a plastic bag or plastic wrap - or both! Already accessible was the hand mixer I had procured during the last trip. The rest of the starting procedures merely involved readying my workstation - a step entirely omitted back home due to regular instances of baking. The aim was to outdo La Patisserie's airy mango cream cake using the tried-and-true formulas and techniques established since its sampling. The base would be none other than the "Perfect Chiffon Cake" from Sheldo's Kitchen. Tested throughout the years for layering and snacking purposes, it established its position in a recent execution of Mango Cream Cake that earned extravagant praise far and wide. A straightforward Chantilly cream, stabilized with just enough roux (read: an unmeasured amount likely averaging a tablespoon), would serve to frost the insides as well as the exterior. Surprisingly enough, preparing the mangoes constituted the most challenging segment. Three ripe mangoes were peeled, diced, and shaved in advance of assembly. While this would often require no more than five minutes in my own kitchen, the roster of tools available to me were not suited towards heavy handling of produce. I would find myself switching between two dull peelers, a spreading knife and pointed paring knife duo, and a mini cutting board while fumbling with loose working gloves acquired from OOMOMO. The mangoes were discovered on the tart side of the spectrum, thus were soaked in a sugar syrup while other components were underway. Due to the length of the mangoes, two layers of shavings would be summoned to cover the entire cake. Exposed areas at the bottom were left as is, though later investigation informed me of the bakery tactics used to camouflage the gaps, namely piping cream along the circumference in the form of star-tipped trails. Cake scraps and leftover mango pieces were formed into scoop-able "sidekick" cakes. The sponge layers would be dressed with the simple syrup used for soaking, which had become mango-infused in the process. These containers would chill for significantly less time than the main cake, and were ready for consumption within the hour. Most of the day had been spent baking, with only an intermission of frozen pizza for lunch.
Crashing into bed around 10:30 PM PST, I awoke briefly some 5 hours later around 3:30 AM, then continued dozing until 5:45 AM. Although still slightly jet-lagged, I had managed to muster a grand total of seven hours of sleep. Sunny blue skies were observed outside - a utterly different scene from the day prior. However, these pleasant conditions were not predicted to last past 9 AM. Moreover, temperatures were distinctly cooler than usual, hovering about the low teens and well below the seasonal average for early June. Making my way to towards Richmond-Brighouse once more, I found dew from the persistent showers of the day before and an overall dampness that had descended onto the city. There was a tranquility that hovered about the quiet morning hours, detected in the hushed rustle of leaves against the bus shelter and the hums of passing vehicles. Rush hour had yet to begin. For the first time ever in my years of Translink usage, I encountered fare inspectors just beyond the fare gates. The uniform-clad duo operated in a similar fashion to GO Transit's Revenue Protection crew members, verifying fare payment on Compass cards with tap devices.
At around 5 AM, I grudgingly peeled away the covers. Moving slowly, I readied myself for the imminent flight, stuffing everything and anything I could possibly need into my luggage. My browsing partner showed up on time, hands placed on waist while I scurried about the house, gazing upon me with a knowing look. "You're late." "Ahhhh!!" I hastily grabbed chargers I had forgotten to pack, then bid farewell to Larry, Mr. Buttons, and Mini Sulley. Around 6 AM, we'd depart for the airport. As expected, the highway was as serene as could be. Naturally, this didn't last long. Once inside the terminal, I learned of the minimal buffer I had allocated for myself. Between weaving through crowds, printing baggage tags, and queuing for carry-on luggage size checks, I'd be sent to the international side for screening. There, nearly 20 minutes would pass as I waited for my bags to be inspected. Increased security meant that, beyond laptops, tablets and even cameras would be pulled aside. Many other fliers experienced similar frustrations with empty water bottles, artwork wrapped in layers of bubble wrap, and small electronics. After finally being permitted to take back my belongings, I ran back to the domestic gates, arriving just in time for boarding. My neighbour arrived within seconds of me, comfortably seating herself in the middle of the section and hanging her denim jacket on the hook adjacent to the screen. She was exceptionally pleasant and smiley - just what I needed after a morning of chaos. Breakfast was served within the first hour of takeoff. Having consumed nothing thus far, I happily munched away at the fluffy omelette, chorizo sausage, and semi-soggy hash browns. Fresh fruit and warm bread rolls with butter and strawberry jam also constituted lovely accents. As far as beverage choices, my go-to of cold brew was, as anticipated, unavailable. However, the flight attendant was more than willing to combine hot brew with ice in a ceramic mug to emanate the effect of iced black coffee.
In spite of the continuous rainfall that would grace the city for the remainder of the day, I was determined to make like a Vancourite and brave the trip to Aberdeen. The bus to Brighouse pulled up to the shelter shortly as I arrived. A fellow backpack-wielding resident had waited alongside me - proof that precipitation would not be sufficient in halting daily operations. Richmond's Chicha San Chen had been on my radar since a local food enthusiast informed me of its opening. There was a distinct determination to confirm whether it fared better than the Burnaby outpost and Toronto's compact rendition on the edge of Chinatown. The interior was largely reminiscent of the Burnaby location, featuring artificial shrubbery on the ceiling and a large mirror to give the illusion of depth. Seating was minimal, spanning no more than a single round table by the entrance. This outpost was slightly smaller than Metro Vancouver's first location and appeared to focus on takeout and food delivery orders - reasonable in consideration of its proximity to Richmond's primary transit hub, nearby condos, and Richmond Centre. Two girls that had disembarked the 410 bus with me followed my footsteps, eventually reaching the cashier before me as I paused for photos. Approximately four staff members could be seen behind the counter, each adopting different roles as cashier, barista, and inventory stockers. In contrast to the downtown Toronto location, there was no lineup whatsoever. Production speed was relatively consistent, for the operating parameters of the tea brewing apparatus were fixed. Despite the backlog of drink orders and sluggishness of the girls before me, I received my Ding Dong Oolong Milk Tea with Konjac in a matter of minutes. The beverage was delightful and as refreshing as could me. That said, its selling price was astounding: even at just 5% tax, the drink rang in at around the same as Toronto's 13% HST, indicating a higher base price. Striding across the bus loop towards the SkyTrain platform, I evaded a sizable political protest enforcing that "Taiwan is not China". This topic was long considered taboo back home and actively avoided in work situations. Most amusing about this stunt were Caucasian participants calling out the protest chants in muffled Mandarin. In a matter of minutes, I arrived at Aberdeen. Northbound trains enabled a direct connection to Aberdeen Square; meanwhile, southbound trains from Waterfront required exiting the station entirely and routing into the Aberdeen buildings at ground level. As per tradition, I desired nothing more than a post-arrival lunch - albeit a late one - of Saboten from the food court. Katsu sandwiches had been pre-packaged in reusable white plastic containers and positioned by the cashier for easy access. This equated to a non-existent wait time and near-immediate gratification. Sliced into thirds, the sandwich embodied the ideal proportions of crispy, tender katsu and fluffy, crust-less shokupan with smothered with a thin layer of tangy katsu sauce.
I happily munched away at the specimen, drawing sips of my Chicha milk tea in the process. In contrast to my drink of choice, ten dollars for a katsu sando no longer seemed pricey. "Be ready by 10:15 AM." instructed my browsing partner. Despite obvious reluctance to yet another alarm-dictated morning, I eventually conceded. It was, after all, the only way to return home before sundown - and the only way to potentially incorporate exercise into the early evening hours. But alas, my departure from the house would not take place until at least twenty minutes later. My 5 PM return time was at risk. The primary reason for an early start was the parking lot sale at MEC's North York location. As the event was scheduled to take place between 10 AM - 2 PM, we had aimed to arrive no later than noon. I had been avidly browsing winter jacket sales leading up to the newsletter announcement and saved two articles to my watchlist before proceeding to locate them in store. Upon our emergence from the underground lot, we found the parking lot sale to be much smaller than anticipated. There was a decent amount of apparel, accessories, and shoes at reasonable prices, though none that were particularly eye-catching (or needed, for that matter). The remaining sizes were also mostly XL or beyond. After slipping into (and quickly out of) a pair of ill-fitting plum-hued leggings, I headed towards the second floor for perusal of outerwear. While lilac and lavender made frequent appearances in the previous seasons, I was ecstatic to discover a wide array of styles in royal purple this year. I narrowed my search to three contenders: a lightly lined rain gear to a padded, two-tone waterproof parka to a puffy, Michelin Man-esque down jacket. Ultimately, I settled on the latter two, but considered deferring the purchase to see whether further sales would occur. We would depart empty-handed, but with sizing knowledge acquired. Lunch at Wendy's was the original proposal, but closure of the eastbound 401 on ramp from Leslie southbound had incited a detour. Exceptionally familiar to me was the Leslie/York Mills plaza, given my past attendance at Studio Bon, and I suggested driving through to determine the presence of POIs. "Anything of interest?" "Hmmm let's try that!" I pointed to a storefront with capitalized white Serif font. Shawarma was not an item in which I regularly indulge. Rare are the instances that I am without a planned lunch, and even rarer are the opportunities to share those bowls or wraps in my herb-hating household. Boustan appeared to offer a Middle Eastern take on the fast casual cuisine, including elements such as falafel and baklava on their menu. Posted on the door of the Lebanese restaurant was a banner listing various daily specials. My gaze darted towards the bottom, where the weekend specials were specified. Thankful was I to have recalled it being Sunday, for Veggie Bowl Saturday would not have appealed to me in the slightest. Both of us took to the Junior Mixed Shawarma Bowl, which included beef and chicken shawarma over a bed of rice with a complimentary side salad. At no extra charge, one could request half-and-half portions of Pilaf, Rice, and Garlic Potatoes, as well as an unlimited number of sauces.
In the past few months, I've come to learn that adulting is a constant phase of change. The varying degrees of its impact differs from person to person, given one's financial situation and familial/external relationships. Discussion with peers inevitably leads to comparison, but, in ideal cases, mutual growth as well. "Nothing could have ever prepared me for this moment." I found myself thinking time and time again. Between Mugwort Lattes, House Hippo favourites, White Chocolate Macadamia-Pecan Cookies, and COBS Bread Challah smothered with Lindt Chocolate Spread and topped with fresh strawberries were merely pockets of time for exercise and compiling to-do lists. Mango Cream Cake A singular creation graced my countertop, its construction spanning half a day and cleanup procedures lasting until the late hour of 11 PM. With mango season rounding the corner, a case of quickly ripening Ataulfo mangoes entered the household. They were delicious on their own, of course, but there was absolutely nothing stopping me from creating my own layered mango cake after countless sightings of T&T's miniature cup renditions. Lending inspiration from Chinese bakeries, I determined the requirement for an airy, chiffon-like base, yet one that wouldn't collapse when piled high with fillings of cream and diced mango. Turning to the Sheldo's Kitchen once more, I'd adhere to the 6" recipe, but construct a total of two rounds for testing purposes. The baking time would be extended to 60 minutes to allow doneness across both cakes. A toothpick would emerge clean from both; as I turned from one to the other, though, deflation took place instantaneously. Inverting the cakes onto a cooling rack with swiftness was not an option, as the sinking action commenced practically the second from the moment the cakes were removed from the oven. Due to other responsibilities, the cakes weren't removed from their parchment-lined moulds until later that evening. While my primary fear had been dryness, keeping the cakes inverted and bottoms sheathed had caused excess moisture to form on the underside, consequently making for damper rounds that demanded more care in handling. I opted to test two variations of the cake: a 2-layer edition with barely enough cream to fill the centre and the top (similar to the original recipe) and a 3-layer edition with layers thinner than 1 cm. The latter was far more challenging to assemble, for the sponge's extended period in the pan had compromised structural integrity
For the second year in a row, I opted for a cake-less celebration of Mother's Day. This was a reasonable approach, for I was simply too busy and too exhausted. Restless evenings and endless tasks on my to-do list had purged all thoughts of creative liberation in the kitchen; whatever residual periods would be reserved for durations of rest - short-lived intervals, yet rest nonetheless. Looking back on the cakes of previous years, I regret none of the extravagance that the Mocha Layered Cake, Salted Caramel Roll Cake, and Dalgona Coffee Roll Cake had summoned to my household during peak pandemic years. As the world returns to its pre-pandemic hecticness, my daily routine has been adjusted to accommodate additional duties accordingly. The sole project I could muster enough energy to realize were Chocolate Chip Cookies. That said, one should never expect a basic batch from me. Resorting to Sunday Baking's Levain Cookie recipe once more, I took to crafting the treats manually, using the good ol' one-bowl, hand-whisked method, for the stand mixer would result in greater setbacks than gains for small quantities. My remaining macadamia nut supply from Tavazo was inadequate in meeting the recipe requirement of 120 g. I had initially reached for the adjacent container of pistachios and began the deshelling procedure, then quickly realized that its toasting temperature and resulting texture wouldn't align with the soft crunch of macadamia nuts. Consequently, pecans were used to make up the remainder of the 120 g. The nuts were arranged in one layer and placed in the toaster oven to bake for about 7 minutes at 300 F. Yearning for chocolate chip cookies, I selfishly swapped out a portion of the white chocolate for semisweet callets. Sunday had included equal quantities of chocolate and nuts by mass, roughly translating to a 126 g mix of Surfin (72 g) and Blancor (54 g) in my version. To reduce total active time, the two trays of cookies were baked using Claire's method: baking on the upper third and lower third racks, then swapping midway. Unfortunately, the specimens did not bake evenly. The batch that commenced in the lower third of the oven were observed to spread more, leading to a flatter cookie with wispy edges along the circumference, but maintained a generally lighter appearance. Meanwhile, the batch that commenced in the upper third solidified rapidly, resulting in a uniform round shape, compactness (read: minimal spread), and a darker hue. I blame the inconsistencies on my finnicky oven, though both variations were still delicious. The paler specimens were visually inviting, showcasing specks of chocolate, whereas the darker mounds were decidedly crunchy and, in my opinion, nothing short of addictive. By the time lunchtime rolled around, cookie operations had concluded and we were ready to depart for Gyu-Kaku. Since our first visit in 2021, the establishment gradually worked its way onto our approved list of dining destinations. From post-Barbie late lunch, post-apple picking appetizer-munching without A/C, and post-Costco weeknight bites, the Japanese BBQ establishment has consistently impressed with its vast assortment of offerings, attentive and accommodating service, and ability to keep cooking odours at bay. This visit was no exception. Though the seats and tables pose questionable cleanliness levels, often with food remnants lodged at table corners and condiment bottles bearing greasy exteriors, the grill items are usually enjoyable. We took to the Chef's Choice Course once more, for it was priced quite reasonably at $100, or $50 per person. Starters included a Gyu-Kaku Salad, Miso Soup, Napa Kimchi, four pieces of Gyu-Sushi, and our go-to order of Beef Sukiyaki Bibimbap. These offerings were in sharp contrast to the rose-shaped Mother's Day exclusives, which had only Deep Fried Gyoza and Edamame in the lineup. Similarly, options of Kalbi Short Rib and Pork Belly were much preferred over Pork Sausages and Umakara Yaki Beef, the evidently more economic alternatives. View the full album HERE !
Truthfully, I can't remember most of this week's happenings. All appeared to blur together in calamity and chaos. My non-office days had been consumed with chores and errands, while my office attendance occupied by friend- and coworker-accompanied happenings. Prior to the start of the work week, I ventured out for two more Smile Cookies before the promotion period terminated. The location closest to me had constructed them with even paler icing features and an excess of baking powder, causing the cookies to be cakey rather than crunchy. Spring blossom sightings about the GTA were now more frequent than ever. Nearly every major residential street in the vicinity was home to pink, magenta, and white buds - to the point where their normalcy made me question the past weekend's decision to undertake a trip to Centennial Park. This year's bloom had proved resilient against rainstorms, high winds, and temperatures flittering between the single- and double-digit marks. Capturing mid-day snacking moments had somehow escaped me, for the week's schedule was just too hectic. Meals of the week spanned: Rigatoni & Meatballs from Loblaws, Stir-Fried Pork with Garlic Hearts and Sweet Corn Kernels over Rice, leftover Minced Meat and Potatoes from last week, and a pairing of Espresso-topped Vita Guava Juice x Taiyaki from the freezer. I neither recalled the source nor its duration of freezing, but merely found the interior to be overly beany (read: dry and crumbly) and a tad salty as well. Creations of the week included: 1) Matcha Basque Cheesecake The timing of a non-baking friend's striking success with basque cheesecake and my failed batch of Mini Chocolate Chip Muffins had me contemplating whether I ought opt for the toaster oven instead my standard conventional oven. Technically, the takeaway from my friend's success had been the use of an immersion blender to ensure a lump-free batter. To prevent an excess of air bubbles in the final product, she mentioned allowing the batter to rest slightly before baking. However, my dilemma thus far hasn't been lumpiness, for steady softening of cream cheese, sifting of dry ingredients, thorough whisking, and, of course, temperature control, is often sufficient in preventing loss of uniformity. Past attempts had seen fully cooked centres with pale surfaces, with the last trial resulting in a runny centre and messy slices. Recently confirmed was the toaster oven's tendency to concentrate heat at the top and bottom rather than distributing evenly for uniform rise. For the purposes of basque cheesecake, this format would actually function better. Adhering to Sunday Baking's Green Tea Basque Cheesecake recipe - without a single modification! - I lined my 6" aluminum pan and baked the mixture at 400 F for about 20 minutes as directed. The cake came out jiggly but mostly set on the surface. In order to achieve a darker surface tint, I allowed the cake to continue baking for five minutes more.
At long last, I was rewarded with the basque cheesecake of my dreams: firm edges encasing a set but gooey middle layer. Having not been fully informed of the details of the proposed outing itinerary, my browsing partner arrived with a demeanour reflective of utmost irritation. Frankly, sporadic adventures have assumed my preference as of late, for there are simply too many last-minute adulting tasks that creep up without warning. Nevertheless, the concerns were valid: The inability to tend to one's own schedule in the absence of information is admittedly frustrating. My first stop was Centennial Park. Tips had circulated online of the presence of cherry blossom trees at the Etobicoke park, and I was been eager to catch a glimpse of the baby pink buds, should they still be intact after days upon days of rainfall and gusty conditions. We parked quite far from the pond, the landmark by which I had intended to commence the trek for flowering shrubs. The availability of more than one asphalt lot hadn't been considered, for my last visit had steered me closer towards Rathburn Road and the Conservatory. Disembarking onto a gravel path, I immediately grimaced at the suggestion of climbing the hilly part of the park. While I normally wouldn't have opposed physical activity in any form, my exceptionally loose platform Vans were not suited towards unpaved pathways. Furthermore, the tongue had already begun to dig into the tops of my feet. Instead, we continued along the main trail, largely unshaded and full of ponding patches. It wasn't until after rounding the corner that a series of blossoming trees would be spotted - none of which were cherry blossom, however. My browsing partner was annoyed, but ultimately proved to be a good sport. I requested multiple photos along the way before various trees and blossoms. Against my better timing choice though, the sun had reached a point of direct glare, causing harsh shadows to fall on the objects directly underneath.
|
Who Am I?Formerly an avid owner of several interest-based portals, Random Thoughts of a Quirky Blogger presents precisely the elements expected. From experiments in the kitchen to miscellaneous musings, from IGOT7 reflections to developments in transportation infrastructure, it's all consolidated here. Welcome to the raw, unfiltered side of Quirky Aesthetics. Archives
July 2024
Categories
All
|