Out & About #1041 | Errands + OLAY Wedding

Drawn-out drives have ceased to terminate for the foreseeable future, for upcoming schedules are nowhere near local.

​The first weekend of October had been reserved at least a year in advance for attendance at ochungg's wedding. Naturally, I'd not relinquish opportunities to undertake other endeavours in the vicinity, thus reallocated my errands accordingly.

A mid-day departure enabled receipt of a Pineapple Cake Gift Set from Taiwan, which I enjoyed thoroughly. The pastry was tender, yet nowhere near as crumbly as Costco's rendition. The filling, while admitting to incorporation of wax gourd, retained a pineapple-y essence and gratifying texture.

​A Click & Collect order would lead towards Uniqlo's new Heartland location, There, I'd be subject to congestion, a painstaking parking situation, and even more painful lack of common sense in buyers of secondhand cameras. Fundamental functional requirements of any technological device comprise of: a) a power source and b) memory source. Those devoid of such basic education ought purchase directly from retailers, for their poor preparation would be combatted by the presence of customer service, instruction manuals, and product warranty.

​Predictable was the layout of the apparel shop itself. That said, the Vancouver-esque layout was less preferable to the mall outposts given its comparatively higher visitor volumes and narrow aisles. In place of the promised water bottle, I received a canvas tote bag for my troubles.

​The next stop was Oomomo. Similar to Heartland, I'd encounter another round of parking frustrations at First Markham Place.

​Once inside, I'd discover a greater variety of storage bins compared to the Don Mills location. Unfortunately, due to time constraints, my search for the perfect organization solution was halted due to the ceremony start time of 4 PM. I had also yet to change into my wedding guest attire; the process was intentionally delayed to prevent soiling the attire when moving about and using public washroom facilities.

​I opted to undergo the transformation in an empty asphalt lot en route to the venue. It was then that I discovered disappearance of my chosen necklace: a hibiscus pendant from Hawaii bearing a dainty, silvery sheen. Despite pacing about the car and rummaging around the driver's seat, there was, unfortunately, no trace of the jewellery piece. With my earlier stops of Heartland and Oomomo, there was, essentially, no telling where I had lost the necklace.

Both the ceremony and reception would take place at Angus Glen Golf Club. Just as I pulled into the asphalt lot, droplets of precipitation began to descend. Two suit-donning visitors were spotted scurrying towards the entrance. I soon followed, umbrella in hand, attempting a speedy walk in my clunky, too-big platforms.

​Washrooms were positioned in a corridor connecting the golf club eatery and event dining hall. The accessible stall was passable in terms of cleanliness, as were the array of standard stalls. I did, however, note poor hygiene practices of the previous user(s), as the toilet seat had been raised and excrement unflushed. There was limited capacity to voice my concerns, for the ceremony was due to start imminently.

I hurriedly settled into one of the tents, gazing about in wait of the bride and groom. Suddenly, the skies gave rise to a ruthless downpour. The droplets continued relentlessly as the bridesmaids and groomsmen filed into the venue. Finally, ochungg entered the premises. With overwhelming cheers and applause, she strode towards the altar. As the bride and groom joined hands, the skies miraculously cleared. A beam of sunshine shone into the tent, illuminating the couple on their day of glory.

​Following a lengthy series of photos, wedding guests were encouraged to partake in the consumption of cocktails and hors d'oeuvres on the patio. Without any acquaintances on site, I took advantage of the opportunity to explore Angus Glen as a venue, rather than mingle with those I may never encounter again.

With dreary rain swapped for sunny blue skies, the golf club's lush greenery and landscaping elements could truly be appreciated. The location was serene, away from the bustle of vehicular traffic and golf carts, while the scenery was colourful and expansive.

Hors d'oeuvres spanned mini salmon crostini, chicken skewers, and tuna on wakame salad. A nearby bar was also open, though I'd steer clear of alcohol until the reception.

Gusty conditions later prompted me to take shelter within, as well as peruse the decorations and setup I had previously been too rushed to admire.

​A surprising element of the check-in table was the absence of a table list. Instead of the self-serve info board, a friend of the bride team would flip through a stack of papers bearing the guest list and inform of the table number. The ordeal of articulating one's name, followed by surname, then wait as the papers were flipped made for a wholly inefficient process, and likely wouldn't function at scale for large groups arriving at once.

Pre-arranged at every seat was a half-filled glass of champagne and $12 gift card to Saint Germain Bakery. Although the bakery ranks low amongst carb-providing contenders, the gesture was favoured over fragile, handmade knickknacks or commemorative trinkets.

​A bread basket would be delivered to start. Red and white wine from Pillitteri Estates Winery Inc. would then revolve about each table throughout the evening. I took no interest in the 2021 Cab Nero, but sought out refills of the 2022 Pinot Grigio. Refreshing and generally mild in profile, it was the ideal counterpart to the evening's supper fare.

​Arugula salad with thinly sliced apple would commence the meal.

​Following shortly afterwards were stuffed pasta rolls - "Italian Cheung Fun", as a table mate humorously declared. The filling was assumed to be cheese, though boasted greater reminiscence to tofu instead. Embracing lower sodium levels and an absence of herbs, the dish appeared to cater towards the Asian palate.

​Entrées would range between salmon fillet or steak, each served with roasted vegetables, a baked, piped potato mound, and underlying layer of squash purée. Those in my immediate surroundings had all opted for red meat; the round was substantial, yet cooked to an exemplary Medium Rare.

My own Salmon Fillet was delightfully tender, lightly seasoned, and untainted by unpleasant fishy odours.

​About half of each plate could be stomached before experiencing feelings of fullness. With leftovers approximating at least two more meals, I requested takeout containers from the serving staff, only to be informed that food could not be packed on the basis of "safety". The response had me perplexed, and simply further confirmed the need for reusable containers on future trips to Markham, Scarborough, and Richmond Hill.

​A tri-layer Chocolate Mousse Cake was served as the final dish of the evening. Admittedly, this triangular sliver was tastier than anticipated.

Alas, merely half could be depleted before my fork was automatically reinstated to the table. The impacts of dining without my browsing partner were evident.

Next to me, a fellow fangirl (but less experienced ticket buyer) cascaded unfinished portions to her partner, who gobbled them up with ease. Another glace across the table and dining hall led to an interesting revelation towards the couples on site: While the other half may not objectively be the smartest, tallest, most attractive person, they were selected as the best match for their partner.

The wedding cake had been procured from Steph and Flour, garnering significant interest from my part. When the lights dimmed over the dance floor, I resisted joining the Bang Bang Bang crowd in order to keep a watchful eye out for cake servings.

Located at the opposite end of the hall was a fresh fruit platter, cookies, mini tarts, and Lemon Poppyseed and Earl Grey Raspberry cake slices. The former was zesty, but a tad stiff. Earl Grey was largely bland and dense with a rigid buttercream exterior. Suffice to say: Daan Go had been better.

While popular tracks of the 90s and early to mid 2000s blared overhead, there was a staggeringly low turnout on the dance floor. A handful of middle school era K-Pop tunes would summon the group, though most hovered about awkwardly, then eventually retreated for shots in the corner.
After bobbing to Sorry Sorry and Low, I too departed, but with my eyes set on a sober homebound trip instead.