Out & About #1069 | CNY Visuals, More Bata Shoe + Yueh Tung

There is always something happening in the city, whether it be niche, neighbourhood-specific, or nominally newfangled. Despite regular complaints about my commute, I anticipate the antics (and freebies) associated with the journey downtown.

​Tuesday morning saw the arrival of an Oreo Cakesters pop-up in the heritage portion of Union Station. Curiosity led me to stroll past with low expectations, but a lineup gradually forming outside the space indicated an alternate reaction from fellow early bird office workers. After stopping by the siggis sampling station, I'd return to join the queue at 7:56 AM, at which point the pop-up name on the storefront would be unveiled to the public.

​Shortly after 8 AM, visitors would be permitted inside, in groups of two or three at a time. The royal blue experience entailed sample-sized parcels of Oreo Cakesters and a chance to win branded merchandise bearing the logos of either OREO or the Toronto Maple Leafs. Those before me succeeded in drawing t-shirts and toques, though I merely strolled out with a disintegrating two-pack of the most revolting, synthetic packaged snack ever. By the time I set out for the office, my watch read 8:09 AM. The line had, thankfully, moved quickly once open for visitors.

My baking coworker finally made her return after nearly two months of being abroad. Accompanying her return was a carry-on suitcase packed with goodies for sharing.

Besides constructing SK's moist honey cake in her signature family-sized 9 in x 13 in baking pan, souvenirs from her home country were bestowed upon each and every member of the team. The assortment included a beautiful, embossed spiral-bound notebook from her favourite stationery boutique; exclusive to me were a thin notebook fitted with blank pages and a cover representative of my tendencies to undertake standalone baking projects as well as an adorable leaf-shaped coin purse. Similar to the cookbook previously gifted, the trio depicted a considerate thoughtfulness established through observation and understanding.

As an unfortunate consequence of having absentmindedly indulged in my own Chocolate Pecan Cookies, stomach capacity for on-site snacking was no longer available. Two slices were packed for at-home enjoyment instead.

​Admittedly, the slices lost some of their aroma on the following day. Nevertheless, I savoured the luxurious profile and pleasantly moist qualities with my morning cup of joe.

The Cafe Landwer farewell lunch from two weeks past had enabled leftovers for a future office meal. Freezing the remaining shakshuka and salad spared me the hassle of preparing a packed lunch, though made the tedious microwave wait inevitable.

​Anterior ankle pain deterred me from undertaking my usual fast-paced mid-day sojourn. Instead, a last-minute reservation to the Bata Shoe Museum was made. Alas, the trip via TTC was not free of travesties.

​For starters, the outbound route was delayed by ten minutes due to TTC's all-too-common "mechanical issues". Exiting onto Bedford Road instead of St George Street further impacted the schedule.

By the time I checked in at the admissions desk, roughly twenty minutes had passed. There was limited time to browse the installations (and determine variances since my last visit, if any), thus the visit would strictly comprise of the top level's rotating exhibit. 

Art/Wear: Sneakers x Artists would remain until March 2026. The exhibit adopted an extremely minimalistic approach, showcasing a handful of colourful sneakers from renowned artists against a white background with bold, black sans-Serif font.

The KAWS installation would incorporate clothing into the concept, though majority of the features adhered to the museum's focus of footwear.

Frankly, I found the Art/Wear exhibit not only undistinguishable from the second level's Dressed to Impress display, but also lacklustre in terms of visual appeal, interactive elements, storytelling, and historical significance. It was nowhere near as interesting as the floral setup of In Bloom, evoking a barren and bland commercialized wasteland in contrast to the mysterious, greenhouse-like serenity of its predecessor.

Within nine minutes of entering the facility, I was back on the subway, heading southbound.

GO Transit's Lunar New Year Booth in the Bay Concourse would be next. Approaching the event in an overheating state, I queued to spin the wheel on the platform. Listed in a circular fashion were the names of GO train stations with scheduled celebratory events. Participants would be asked to identify the station indicated on the wheel with the names on the network map beneath their feet. Upon provision of the correct answer, a gold GO chocolate coin would be bestowed upon them, a token that wholly embraced the custom instead of merely advertising in the form of branded merch.

​​Visitors would then join a second queue to try their luck at a claw machine game. Having chanced by earlier in the day, when the installation had yet to open, I learned that dragon charms were encased within the bulbs. Though the prizes themselves were nominal, complementary claw machines are never a dull moment.

I snapped a quick photo of the setup before the member of staff commented, "I like your wallpaper."
Whipping my head towards her, my eyes widened with excitement, though my lips remained purse, debating whether I should activate fangirl mode before a snaking - no pun intended - lineup of eager players, or clarifying whether she had identified the correct K-Pop boy group member. After all, it wasn't uncommon for me to encounter fans of BTS or Seventeen.
Before I could utter another word, she followed with, "I'm an ahgase." Admittedly, I had wished to continue this conversation, but was struck with internal conflict.
She then pointed to the charm on my bag. "Where did you get that?"
"Ah, it's a custom." I sheepishly replied. "I got it customed and it's a 3D print."
I then shifted my focus towards the claw machine, where I succeed in grabbing the item casing but failed to transport it to the area of receipt. Red envelopes and a set of GO stickers were presented as a consolation prize.

Before departing, I pointed to the sticker on the back of my phone. "I follow this artist" I started, "And she does GOT7 art, if you're interested." The staff member quickly snapped a photo before apologizing and ushering the next person in line. We bid farewell swiftly, acknowledging that the circumstances did not permit delving into fangirl content. Should the booth remain next time I swing by Union, and should the same staff member be present, I likely won't hesitate to initiate a follow-up conversation.

While heading back, I couldn't help but realize the nature of ahgases as a fandom: Subtle yet distinguishable, and discernible to our own kind. Rarely do we bear obvious signs of being committed to the group, such as member photocards in ID case holders or gaudy dolls and keychains. Instead, exclusive merchandise worn as daily attire, phone/phone case decorations, and hints of green/birds are the common denominator. Ahgases characterize a mature chaos - one that is not inconsistent with their ults. Quite possibly, there is no truer form of "if you know, you know".

​I proceeded down to the concourse level to redeem my BOGO croissant offer at Hazukido. An Original Polo Croissant and Matcha Chocolate Croissant would be packaged in response to my request. Meanwhile, the cashier complimented my blue strands, and we leisurely commenced a side conversation over hair dying and maintenance in the absence of other customers.

Back in the office, our weekly meeting ensued with a side of Timbits. This time, the assortment would include Old Fashioned Plain, an indication of consideration for my preferences.

Over the weekend, I proposed a simplified take on Chinese New Year Eve dinner. Cooking an extravagant feast for a compact party of two was concluded unreasonable, therefore leading to the ultimate decision of outsourcing. T&T's Lunar New Year items was pre-ordered in advance of the day and scheduled for delivery in the late evening hours.

​The tracking link did not function whatsoever, but the delivery proceeded with accuracy and clarity, with both a call and text from the delivery driver to confirm arrival. The items were wrapped in festive packaging, then neatly packed in a cardboard box to provide protection from the elements. All was seamless, save the sole caveat of its frozen status. While the item description had included the word "Cold", I hadn't realized this inferred to freezer temperatures. Instructions noted an overnight thaw in the fridge - a step for which we'd neither have the time nor patience.

​After roughly ten minutes of scrambling and forty-ish minutes of steaming, dinner was served. Alongside blanched lettuce and steamed rice, the T&T package boasted a Whole Marinated Pork Hock and a "Layers of Good Wishes Big Bowl" with constituents of taro, daikon, chicken, pork knuckle, shiitake mushrooms, fish cakes, and giant shrimp. Given that both articles were denoted as 2-3 person portions, we'd likely have enough sustenance for six meals, at a minimum.

​Extremely tender and gelatinous was the Pork Hock, while the Good Wishes Big Bowl hearty and gratifying with a wide variety of ingredients. The wok was, regrettably, met with an inadequacy of water, causing the bottom to scorch. Thankfully, the char was easily remedied by soaking in water, with no permanent damage inflicted.

​Subsequent New Year days entailed sightings of snakes, Papaya and White Fungus Dessert Soup, Coconut Jelly, and the consumption of leftovers.

​My browsing partner has returned to the picture, now promising a greater presence than before. Leading up to the larger Chinese New Year celebration, I offered the gift of a plush snake of choice. But, being unable to decide between Stevie and Cizi based on Internet images, I merely deduced that the best solution was obtaining both for review.

The trip to Outer Layer was an approximate twenty-five-minute walk one-way. Somehow, I managed the round trip in 45 minutes, spending just three minutes within the store itself. Alternatively, one could hop on board one of the few recently reinstated Queen streetcars, though I found the vehicles incapable of providing a drastic advantage in terms of travel speed and efficiency, with the added disadvantage of fare payment.

​Returning a few minutes later than the scheduled start time of the division's Lunar New Year lunch, I hurriedly dropped off the slithering duo then made my way to Yueh Tung.

​Admittedly, I was quite startled by the sheer number of tables occupied by the attendees. The group spanned well over half the restaurant, causing the compact serving team of four to fumble with fretfulness. My second observation was the noticeably barren atmosphere. Save a handful of small red lanterns, the restaurant was otherwise devoid of festive decorations. Moreover, there wasn't a sliver of gold nor dragon-themed backdrop in sight! Finally, having been at a long, rectangular table instead of a large, round table fitted with a lazy Susan was pure blasphemy.

​One of the waitresses would start to portion soup at the end of the table, where I had settled. Partway through the process, she disappeared to provide plates and utensils for another table, then again when one more member appeared unannounced. We were left to fend for ourselves and distribute the bowls without assistance.

While I had expected subsequent items to be placed in a similar fashion at the unoccupied end of the table, servers began setting down dishes towards the centre and opposite end. Not only had this change bewildered me, it further incited confusion towards the intended distribution procedure and item count. The staff had ceased distribution of the dishes altogether and were incredibly difficult to flag for water, tea, bowls, and soup spoons. 

​As a consequence of this chaotic approach, the Chili Shrimp was practically barren by the time the platter had made its way to my end of the table. The restaurant had allocated one microscopic shrimp per person, without including extras for unexpected additions. I surrendered my entitled thumb-sized portion of protein, partly out of annoyance but also partly due to obvious inclusion of chili pepper.

My frustrations would continue to grow as the meal progressed. Before one item had completed its circulation about the table, another two would be presented. The array spanned Cantonese classics such as Sautéed Veggies over Glass Noodles and Sweet & Sour Pork, Hakka-style Spicy Beef and Salted Fish Fillet, and fusion platters of E-Mien with Cha Siu and Ginger-/Scallion-topped Lobster.

Much to my surprise, fellow party members did not show much affection for the Sweet & Sour Pork. Despite skimping on pineapple chunks, Yueh Tung's rendition was likely the crispiest version I'd tasted to date - wholly enjoyable without an ounce of oiliness! The E-Mien and Fried Rice were tasty as well, but oozed with oil upon closer inspection.

New to me were the Hakka-Chinese dishes. The dark hue lent a similar appearance to the trio of fish, beef, and pork. Their profiles differed slightly, however remained heavily seasoned with salt, spices, and sauces. I could barely stomach the Spicy Beef, in spite of my coworker's "moderately spicy" claim, while the fillet was laden with both sodium and pepperiness. I appreciated the introduction nevertheless, for without the visit to Yueh Tung, I'd be unlikely to try Hakka cuisine on my own.

The lobster was of a truly substantial portion. My coworker, being the kinder of us two, offered to deshell the specimen for the enjoyment of all. I facilitated by handing knives, requesting plates, and shifting neighbouring items, but withstood my position as an event participant. All members were relinquishing an identical fee for consumption, thus I saw no value in volunteering as an unpaid server or maid. This impression became especially apparent as the lady across us - non-Asian, for the record, dismissed my efforts to quicken the process and declared "We're in no rush!". Sitting back down, I could only scoff silently and roll my eyes at the entitlement.
The staff did not provide assistance whatsoever throughout this process, and further denied me of scissors for cutting the deshelled lobster flesh. A claw cracker appeared instead, then the waitress vanished to the next table.

​It is worth clarifying that my grievances pertained not to the quality of the dishes or the amicability of the serving staff. Granted that the team comprised of just four members, it wasn't difficult to see their struggles in balancing duties for a sizable party of fifty-eight or so. Above all, Yueh Tung confirmed itself to be a friendly, family-style Hakka-Chinese restaurant, rather than 酒樓 - otherwise contextually known as a Cantonese banquet hall. The staff wore white, but did not adhere to uniforms. The setting was casual and uncharacteristically barren of red and gold. The dining setup comprised of a fork, paper napkin, chopsticks, and cold water in a plastic cup. The washrooms were, surprisingly, clean with red Cintas dispensers and hardly a hint of eerie sewage odours. Most importantly, the staff did not distribute dishes in a swift, proficient manner, nor had the capacity to accommodate large groups of diners. By the end of the meal, the distinguishing elements of a 酒樓 were firmly embedded in my mind.

​I'd hesitate not in recommending Yueh Tung to my fellow food enthusiasts, for the food was spectacular at its given price point. The Sweet & Sour Pork was easily the best I've tasted in my lifetime, while the lobster absolutely delectable, even from the perspective as a non-lover of crustaceans. The dessert soup of Purple Rice and Glutinous Rice Balls in Coconut Milk was also splendid, and eventually depleted singled-handedly. Complimentary microwaveable biodegradable containers and (detergent-perfumed) plastic bags for packing leftovers were graciously provided, sealing the experience on a positive note.

​Errands at Square One permitted a quick stopover at the New Year scroll and gate installation outside Holt Renfrew.

​Within the luxury department store, I spotted Slither in the Jellycat section. Delysees had also overtaken the glasses and sunglasses kiosk with a refrigerated display of cakes and macarons, along with a makeshift patio (complete with faux shrubbery and patio chairs) and espresso bar.

The objective of my trip was not to peruse the festive installations, however.

Läderach assumed my first stop: Two pouches of FrischSchoggi and an 18-piece Truffle set were procured.

​Also chocolate-focused was the next stop. At Lindt, I'd find my way towards a handful of milk chocolate gold coins and four Excellence Bars.

The Pistachio Dark supposedly drew inspiration from the viral Dubai chocolate of the summer past, but presented itself in a far sleeker, minimalist format. Bits of the fragrant nut were encased within the bar, contributing a subtle yet discernible saltiness. The creation could be likened to a mature version of Purdy's Salted Butter Toffee Bites, embracing the bitterness of a high cocoa content and comparatively muted (read: less potent/intrusive) incorporation of brininess. Although gratifying, the bar did not instigate a desire to repurchase.