Canada Day weekend customarily corresponds to a cookout of sorts, but this year, my fatigue was off the charts. Despite having planned an indoor BBQ segment to take place on the national holiday, I ultimately turned to UberEats to satisfy sustenance needs.
Food Fight BBQ, one of the countless eateries in the Ridgeway plaza, offered the smoked ribs of desire. Stacking promotions with my Uber One membership (re-activated strictly for the Vancouver trip), the bill totalled $56 before tips. A full rack of Slow Smoked Pork Ribs with Apple BBQ sauce, half pound of Brisket with Honey Garlic sauce, and Honey Butter Cornbread would constitute the order.
The trio arrived safely, neatly knotted within a plastic bag and without a smidge of sauce spillage.
The trio arrived safely, neatly knotted within a plastic bag and without a smidge of sauce spillage.
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Contained within the larger box was the bountiful pyramid of ribs - smoky, enticing, and unquestionably scrumptious, just as its description has promised. The Apple BBQ sauce was tangy and slightly fruity, yet not at all fiery, much to our relief. Substantial was the full rack portion, providing for well beyond four meals' worth. Impressively, supple flesh - and even well seasoned bones! - was perceived each time without fail.
Six slices of brisked were found in the smaller box. They appeared tough, but were, in fact, absolutely sublime and disintegrated upon contact with utensils. I did not taste much of the Honey Garlic sauce, but it was delicious nonetheless and not at all gamey.
Six slices of brisked were found in the smaller box. They appeared tough, but were, in fact, absolutely sublime and disintegrated upon contact with utensils. I did not taste much of the Honey Garlic sauce, but it was delicious nonetheless and not at all gamey.
The Honey Butter Cornbread arrived in a paper bag - unlined, as evident in the patchy grease stains. Just two honey butter-brushed muffins were found inside the bag, though Uber's BOGO deal had promised a total of four. I was compensated with a $5 Uber credit, then happily indulged in the specimens. Cornbread is often dry, and sometimes a bit stale. Food Fight's rendition was nothing like those sampled previously: a compact mound that featured an airy, tender crumb but retained lightly craggy properties and a luscious brushing of honey butter sauce on top. It was absolutely fantastic, and paired splendidly against the sweet-savoury characteristics of smokehouse meats.
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The meal was consumed in conjunction with frozen kale, sweet corn kernels, and homemade potato salad. Four yellow potatoes had been used in the absence of Yukon gold. Roughly 275 g of previously frozen carrot knobs were also incorporated, along with scallions soaked in ice water (to remove pungency), seven hard-boiled eggs, canned pineapple chunks, and a mixture of Miracle Whip, sour cream, and Dijon mustard for creaminess.
For future compilations, I shall be omitting the carrots altogether, for their rigidity did not contribute the desired textural depth, and reverting to my usual dressing of wasabi mayo. The Dijon mustard-sour cream combo simply was not potent enough.
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Constructing an Apple Crumble Cake was a last-minute decision. The need for a pack-able breakfast often leads to creation of loaf cakes; with Banana Bread cravings on the decline, I opted to use my forgotten Ambrosia apples in yet another pantry clear-out project.
The recipe originated from none other than the fabulous Sunday Baking. A few adjustments would be made in order to double the recipe for a 9 in x 13 in pan and combat my scanty quantity of almond flour.
| Crumble
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Bake at 365 F for 45 minutes, or until the top is golden brown and a toothpick emerges clean.
The choice to keep the crumble topping ingredients consistent improved cohesion to the surface. By substituting, albeit unintentionally, a portion of the almond flour for turbinado, the top proved crunchier than before, with the added benefit of moisture resistance. Preparing the apples as one would an apple also ensured thorough penetration of flavour. Cinnamon, ground ginger, and the generic blend of pumpkin pie spices lent a distinctive warmth to the treat, which would otherwise solely rely on the innate qualities of the chosen fruit. As opposed to 1 in squares, the slab was sliced into bars about the size of miniature locomotives, promoting the cake's ability to freeze and thaw uniformly without fear of burning in the toaster oven.
The choice to keep the crumble topping ingredients consistent improved cohesion to the surface. By substituting, albeit unintentionally, a portion of the almond flour for turbinado, the top proved crunchier than before, with the added benefit of moisture resistance. Preparing the apples as one would an apple also ensured thorough penetration of flavour. Cinnamon, ground ginger, and the generic blend of pumpkin pie spices lent a distinctive warmth to the treat, which would otherwise solely rely on the innate qualities of the chosen fruit. As opposed to 1 in squares, the slab was sliced into bars about the size of miniature locomotives, promoting the cake's ability to freeze and thaw uniformly without fear of burning in the toaster oven.
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Canada Day long weekend ended with an immediate return to the office. Early morning hours proved slightly humid, while the afternoon scorching and the evening breezy.
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The day's lunch walk was largely aimless: I had no pressing errands (none that could be accomplished downtown anyway), no Union samples to retrieve, and no new destinations of interest. My coworker had opted to join me on my trek, which eventually led us northeast.
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On the west side of Yonge just south of Wellesley was a rainbow striped sign apparently promising a 24-hour Chinese grocer. Contrary to Google Maps images though, the shop clearly hadn't commenced opening operations, with the inside shielded by layers of brown paper.
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Continuing north, we passed Kream, a beautifully spacious, renovated L'Amour, and more than a handful of unfamiliar names. My coworker, who usually hovered about without qualms, was found uncharacteristically fiery and full of gripes. Impatience was shown towards my need for capturing various moments of the trip. There was also noticeable lack of empathy and constant interruption of my utterances as well.
At Galleria, we each obtained a package of Crunky Pepero, the ultimate marriage between the Korean pretzel snack and my beloved Crunky chocolate. We then continued onward while debating about food waste, ultimately unable to convene to a single solution, for one perspective prioritized cost (mine) while the other sheer enjoyment.
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Soon, we arrived at Zagmachi - the latest occupant of the café space on Isabella.
The interior layout had barely changed from before, but the once-colourful mural adorning Thank U Coffee had been painted over in beige and navy with the shop's new name. The menu bid homage to its Korean roots, encompassing Injeolmi and Black Sesame Lattes and Yakgwa cookies. Behind the POS equipment was a young girl radiating uncertainty, a middle-aged Korean man, and a young Korean boy who served to translate customer inquiries between them. The girl did not partake in beverage-making and appeared decidedly unsure of drink customization options, sending receipts by email, and more.
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My coworker had intrepidly acquired six Yakgwa cookies, priced at two dollars each, for the trip home. After a few minutes of internal debate, namely "I can make that at home", I eventually caved and requested an iced Black Sesame Latte and Chocolate Basque Cheesecake slice.
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By default, the Korean-style latte did not include coffee. Adding a shot was permissible, though a positive result was not guaranteed - unlike LUNA though, the staff neither advised nor warned customers of the consequences of their customization demands. In fear of additional charges and receiving an unpalatable product, I refrained from modifying the formula. That said, I was unable to escape the lack of transparency in the pricing system: iced variations incurred an additional thirty cent charge, an amount of which I hadn't been notified during order placement. The chalkboard menu that resided behind the cashier had only listed one price against each of the "Specialty Lattes", not even bothering to include cup sizes or add-on notes.
The former former occupant had offered beverages in aluminum cans to preserve iciness while roaming about the city. At zagmachi, the cans had been limited to $4.50 cold brew cans instead. Standard drinks would be presented in clear plastic cups with a dome lid, accompanied by a sealed plastic (!!!) straw.
The Chocolate Basque Cheesecake was removed from the fridge and handed to me in a flimsy plastic Swiss roll cake container. Thankfully, due to the cake's rigidity, it could be slid next to my Pepero sideways without repercussions.
The Chocolate Basque Cheesecake was removed from the fridge and handed to me in a flimsy plastic Swiss roll cake container. Thankfully, due to the cake's rigidity, it could be slid next to my Pepero sideways without repercussions.
Exiting back onto the side street, I took my first sip of the drink. Scrunching my face in disgust, my coworker prompted, "It's good right??"
My furrowed brows and unimpressed silence ought have told the tale. The cup contained nothing more than milk over a handful of ice, mixed with a heaping spoonful of ground black sesame that neither infused nor blended into the milk. Disharmonious at best, at the very least it served to appease surges in internal temperature as we hurried back to the office, furiously defending our opposing points of view along the way.
My furrowed brows and unimpressed silence ought have told the tale. The cup contained nothing more than milk over a handful of ice, mixed with a heaping spoonful of ground black sesame that neither infused nor blended into the milk. Disharmonious at best, at the very least it served to appease surges in internal temperature as we hurried back to the office, furiously defending our opposing points of view along the way.
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Sampled later that evening was the Chocolate Basque Cheesecake. Initially radiating utmost rigidity, the slice yielded under the pressure of a fork to present a surprisingly creamy and delectable profile. Admittedly, the creation was far tastier - and more substantial - than envisioned for seven dollars plus tax.
The following office day was blazing and brutally humid. Even trodding along the length of the GO train platform in the early hours, one could detect an unpleasant warmth in the air - a stickiness that was reflective of the day's inevitable highs. A slight breeze would fill the air occasionally, though walking in the shade was one's best bet for survival. In spite of my tactics, I arrived at the office uncomfortable, sweaty, and exhausted.
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Thursdays have become notably more peaceful since the removal of mandatory team days. Aside from a handful of meetings, these days usually make for great focus days, sometimes permitting extended lunch walks to incorporate site visits.
Operating solo, the mid-day route would include a varied number of stops: Union Station to obtain samples and review new store openings, Union Summer on Front Street, and Mizzica gelato to beat the heat.
Even before stepping foot onto Nathan Phillips Square, one would be enveloped in heat and the splendid stench of sweat. Concrete slabs and the nonappearance of shrubbery only emphasized the despicable temperatures, thus into the underground, air-conditioned network I would vanish.
Even before stepping foot onto Nathan Phillips Square, one would be enveloped in heat and the splendid stench of sweat. Concrete slabs and the nonappearance of shrubbery only emphasized the despicable temperatures, thus into the underground, air-conditioned network I would vanish.
In the PATH, I found Michel's Bakery replacing the former McCafé space, with operations in full swing. Peak meal times also incited lengthy lineups outside mean bao and Zen Tokyo.
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Sparetime Market and Craig's Cookies would be spotted in the heritage level of the transit hub. The former operated similar to nooks, where local artists could display a selection of their products under the premise of increasing customer catchment.
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The Bay Concourse sample station would be distributing vodka soda, while the alcohol-free beer from Muskoka Brewery in the York Concourse. Unfortunately, just as how I "planned" with my morning meetings, the allocation of these cans to the general public would not commence until 1:30 PM. I resorted to ascend to ground level and take a gander at the Union Summer pop-up on Front Street. Akin to Nathan Phillips Square, the space was hot, humid, and absolutely dreadful, even in the presence of soulful live music.
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When attempting to venture west, I was ensnared in crowds of tourists, Jays fans, and graduates exiting the Metro Toronto Convention Centre. They traversed at a sloth-like pace, either as unhurried duos and a row of family members. With sidewalks already proving quite narrow and garbage receptacles, homeless residents, and utility infrastructure taking boulevard space, weaving about the groups proved no simple task, especially in the smoldering heat.
Choosing the comparatively shaded side of the street had assisted in moderating perspiration levels. By the time I had reached Mizzica though, my steadily rising internal temperature was undeniable.
In contrast to the early evening hours, the interior of the gelato parlour was still quite spacious. A few patrons had taken to enjoying their treats on the patio, while just five others joined me in the order lineup.
In contrast to the early evening hours, the interior of the gelato parlour was still quite spacious. A few patrons had taken to enjoying their treats on the patio, while just five others joined me in the order lineup.
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Although the selection wasn't remarkably broad, it featured flavours with which majority of dessert samplers would be acquainted. For those desiring a fruity pick-me-up, there was: Fragola/Strawberry, Passion Fruit, Limone/Lemon, and Fruitti Di Bosco/Mix(ed) Berry. The remainder would span timeless flavours of Dark Chocolate, Espresso, and Tiramisu, Italian classics like Stracciatella (Milk + Chocolate) Bacio (Chocolate + Hazelnut, like the confectionery), as well as the local exclusive of Oh Canada!
A sample of the Sicilia, described as a combination of "sheep ricotta, pistachio cream, and chocolate", had been requested before I laid eyes on the Pistachio from Sicily. It was creamy and delectable without emerging satiating, boasting small chocolate chips and delightful swirls of pistachio. The luscious pairing of pecan, walnut, and maple syrup found its way into Oh Canada!, which would assume my second flavour pick.
A sample of the Sicilia, described as a combination of "sheep ricotta, pistachio cream, and chocolate", had been requested before I laid eyes on the Pistachio from Sicily. It was creamy and delectable without emerging satiating, boasting small chocolate chips and delightful swirls of pistachio. The luscious pairing of pecan, walnut, and maple syrup found its way into Oh Canada!, which would assume my second flavour pick.
Cup sizes were priced as follows:
My choice of Sicilia and Oh Canada! set me back $7.35. The shockingly generous portion would be topped with a logo-embossed waffle that preserved its wonderfully crisp profile throughout the consumption process. They could, arguably, be likened to those retailed in packages at Punto Gelato, but adopted a neutral flavour - as opposed to vanilla - to prevent interfering with the complex properties of the chosen gelato.
- Small, 1 flavour, $5.25 + tax
- Medium, 2 flavours, $6.50 + tax
- Large, 3 flavours, $8.50 + tax
My choice of Sicilia and Oh Canada! set me back $7.35. The shockingly generous portion would be topped with a logo-embossed waffle that preserved its wonderfully crisp profile throughout the consumption process. They could, arguably, be likened to those retailed in packages at Punto Gelato, but adopted a neutral flavour - as opposed to vanilla - to prevent interfering with the complex properties of the chosen gelato.
Patrons would be served by the staff behind the gelato counter prior to paying, causing some bottlenecking in the face of confusion. Should other members of the same party exit onto the patio before payment, the cashier would not be able to correctly identify the products provided.
I had already begun devouring the handheld treat before reaching the payment kiosk, for the inevitable process of dissolution had commenced; a few pale dribbles plummeted onto the carpet underneath, prompting me to reach for a napkin. The man next to me did the same.
Besides gelato, the award-winning dessert shop also displayed a number of cookies, cakes, and cannoli for purchase.
I had already begun devouring the handheld treat before reaching the payment kiosk, for the inevitable process of dissolution had commenced; a few pale dribbles plummeted onto the carpet underneath, prompting me to reach for a napkin. The man next to me did the same.
Besides gelato, the award-winning dessert shop also displayed a number of cookies, cakes, and cannoli for purchase.
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I gleefully scraped away at my Mizzica pairing while hurrying back to the office. Sicilia was nutty, creamy, and comprehensively delicious without rendering feelings of satiation. Meanwhile, Oh Canada! boasted the coziness of warm spices, subtle crunch of pecan pie, familiar attributes of low-viscosity maple syrup. I had expected the formula to disintegrate well before my return to A/C, but found the concoctions to resist humidity and hot climate surprisingly well. Even the velvety, substantial consistency was preserved for majority of the UV ray-filled saunter. The texture could be likened to Bella Gelateria when it was last sampled: enjoyable, yet not excessive.
A handful of online reviews complained of the assortment being too sweet, however I begged to disagree. Perhaps the sole instance where I could identify with the claim was when my spoon continually dug into a melted, milky puddle. The gelato was perfectly fine otherwise.
A handful of online reviews complained of the assortment being too sweet, however I begged to disagree. Perhaps the sole instance where I could identify with the claim was when my spoon continually dug into a melted, milky puddle. The gelato was perfectly fine otherwise.
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Consumed throughout my work-from-home days were: Guava-Orange-Espresso, Echigo beer from Vancouver, and a Matcha Espresso Latte, otherwise known as a "Military Latte" as per Issho Bakery.
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Meals of the week would comprise of IKEA Medallions, Congee with Choy Sum, Steamed Minced Pork + Pork Floss (to appease an upset stomach), Steamed T&T Dumplings, and an UberEats order from Boustan.
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The Byblos Bowl featured a scrumptious mix of Chicken and Beef Shawarma atop Bourghul Pilaf and assorted salads. Nearly half the bowl was brimming with sweet, tender beets, fragrant roasted mushrooms, sauteed onions, fresh tomato slices, turnips, and a splendid medley of traditional herbs. The blend appeared to comprise of Za'atar, though I'm not entirely confident in my Lebanese/Middle Eastern culinary vocabulary as of yet.
We thoroughly enjoyed the BOGO bowls, especially relishing in their variety of salads. In particular, I enjoyed the unexpected incorporation of raisins and dried berries to provide sweet, chewy variances to the typically savoury profile. Our sole gripe was the Spicy Vegan Aioli sauce, which incited flames within our mouths and tears trickling down our cheeks. The fiery mention had not been included in the item description whatsoever.
My $1.25 side order of Hummus had originally been mistakenly entered as Harissa, a hot chili pepper paste. Before the Uber driver arrived at the eatery, I hurriedly called the restaurant to amend the error. The lady on the phone was, coincidentally, packing my order and rectified the mistake on site - Phew!
This time, the chickpea emulsion would not be overwhelmed the garlic-y-ness of Boustan sauce. Its creaminess paired exceptionally with the seasoned meats and pilaf.
This time, the chickpea emulsion would not be overwhelmed the garlic-y-ness of Boustan sauce. Its creaminess paired exceptionally with the seasoned meats and pilaf.
I had resisted taking to a 50 g portion of Baklava at the York Mills location, but could withstand the curiosity no longer. The rectangular segment was adequately saturated in sugar syrup, yet retained a distinct flakiness. Nuts, phyllo pastry, and syrup were combined in palatable proportions, unlike the headache- and stomachache-inducing morsels from Square One's Run the World market or Baklava King.
One of the weekend's missions was to obtain an ice cream cake from Baskin Robbins. Little did we know that the source of our phenomenal Canada Day feast had originated from its next-door neighbour.
It was confirmed via a phone call that ice cream cakes would require a minimum of 1-2 days' notice. I had been informed that orders placed before 2 or 3 PM would be fulfilled the following day, though the exact timing was not specified. Upon confirming that pre-packs were not only more economic than cakes but available without pre-orders, we set out to acquire the new flavours of interest: Mango Tango and Chocolate.
On its own, Chocolate is considered a "Fresh Pack" and priced accordingly. World Chocolate, a milk-white chocolate swirl, was classified as a Pre-Pack, thus could be procured as part of a bundle deal. One 946 ml tub would set us back $12.49, while two tubs would ring in at $22.99.
On its own, Chocolate is considered a "Fresh Pack" and priced accordingly. World Chocolate, a milk-white chocolate swirl, was classified as a Pre-Pack, thus could be procured as part of a bundle deal. One 946 ml tub would set us back $12.49, while two tubs would ring in at $22.99.
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I also couldn't resist trying the chain's Flavour of the Month, Beach Day. A Single Scoop was priced at $5.49, while the Waffle Cone $1.99 extra. Unfortunately, the scoop was toothachingly sweet to the point where only half could be depleted, albeit with difficulty.
Back home, I'd set up my station for a DIY ice cream cake. A 10.5 cm (or 4.13 in) ring mold would be summoned for this challenge. A layer of plastic wrap would be firmly wrapped over the bottom - but not too tight, as to prevent tearing - and secured in place with an elastic. Using an elastic is not necessary for cakes involving a sponge or graham cracker base, however pivotal for an ice cream cake as to ensure all components remain within the ring, even in the face of dissolution.
World Class Chocolate would be pressed into the ring first, serving as the bottom layer. Once evenly spread to the edges and levelled with the bottom a Pyrex beaker, I hurried worked to distribute spoonfuls of Mango Tango on top. The ring would then be covered in plastic (to prevent freezer burn) and set into the harden overnight.
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The next day, I worked quickly to remove the mould. Warmth from my palms would be transferred to the outer circumference of the ring. Meanwhile, a small offset spatula loosened the edges of the ice cream along the inner circumference. Although the bottom layer was observed to melt slightly during this process, the round had stayed mostly intact, with just a few smears of chocolate intermingling with the mango.
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Coating an ice cream cake was totally unlike any other cake. Upon contact, the ganache did not harden as expected. Instead, it was observed to slide across the surface, dragging with it the underlying layers of ice cream. To make matters worse, the bottom layer had slowly begun to shrink with every second away from the freezer.
In the end, I settled for scraping the ganache overflow into a piping bag and struggling to create swirls with the cake still placed in the freezer. This was, of course, no easy task. My lack of piping skills only grew more apparent.
In the end, I settled for scraping the ganache overflow into a piping bag and struggling to create swirls with the cake still placed in the freezer. This was, of course, no easy task. My lack of piping skills only grew more apparent.
Surprisingly, I had succeeded in managing distinct layers of Mango Tango and World Class Chocolate underneath the chaos. That said, the layers were hardly even by this point, with the chocolate adopting a crust-like thickness.
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By the end of the two-day mission, I had concluded that ice cream cakes are better off being purchased than DIYed. The cake still tasted great, and I wholly appreciated the decadence of homemade chocolate ganache over the heavily stabilized swirls of Baskin Robbins, even if the presentation was less than admirable. However, the ordeal was painstaking to declare in the least, and notably more stressful than rewarding given the race against drastic temperature changes.
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