Out & About #1080 | Farewell Downtown Feat. Matcha White Chocolate Hazelnut Cookies, Minami + Dance Life X

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.

Ingredients:

• 400 g unsalted butter
• 200 g dark brown sugar
• 100 g granulated sugar
• 4 eggs
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 8 g baking powder
• generous pinch of salt
• 540 g AP flour

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

It should be noted that:

• Four different types of matcha were used: Hokusan Niju, Momo Tea Matsu, Camelia Sinensis Uji, and Kato Matcha (in order of increasing to decreasing proportion). The decision to include four brands in one concoction had not been intentional, though I had attempted to make up the 32 g by weight by clearing out any and all leftover matcha in my pantry. Though I ultimately only succeeded in scaling up the matcha quantity 3x, the resulting product still boasted a natural green hue and acceptably grassy undertones.
• Hazelnuts were toasted at 325 F for 5 minutes, then rubbed aggressively in a paper towels to remove their skins. Less than 60% of the skins were removed, though, again, this was not apparent in the final product whatsoever.
• In hindsight, I would have increased the amount of add-ins by at least 50%, for most of the cookie is dough and a bit lacklustre in terms of chocolate and nuts with omission of the post-baking toppings.
• Sunday instructed to chill the dough for 1h before scooping. A 40-minute chill resulted in a tacky dough that could not be readily scooped. Having pressed the heavy, guacamole-like slab between two layers of parchment, I settled to portion using a dough cutter, then roll into neat spheres before baking.

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.

Sundays Favourite Tiramisu was adapted to make the most of my remaining 100 g of cream cheese (from the Biscoff Basque Cheesecake):

Ingredients:

A) Ladyfinger Sponge

• 3 egg yolks
• 20 g icing sugar
• 3 egg whites
• 52 g granulated sugar
• 1 tsp vanilla extract
• 83 g AP flour

Directions

1. In a large bowl, beat egg whites until frothy. Gradually add sugar and beat until a meringue forms.
2. In a medium bowl, beat egg yolks and icing sugar until pale in colour. Add vanilla and continue beating. The beaters should be able to hold a pale yellow ribbon when done.
3. Fold aerated yolks into meringue, then whip again to combine.
4. Sift in AP flour. Gently fold to prevent batter from deflating.
5. Transfer batter into large piping bag.
6. Line an aluminum baking pan with parchment paper. Pipe the batter vertically across the width of the pan, aiming for uniformity. Dust the top with icing sugar.
7. Bake at 320 F for 13 mins, or until the top becomes slightly golden and the batter is no longer foamy. Rotate the pan once after 8-9 minutes of baking.
8. Let cool, covered with parchment to prevent drying out.
9. Invert the ladyfinger sponge onto a second tray and remove the parchment paper backing. Invert once more onto a clean sheet of parchment, restoring the icing sugar-dusted side up. Set aside while preparing the other components.

​B) Coffee Syrup (adapted)

Ingredients:

• 9 g UCC coffee granules
• 100 g hot water
• 30 g Kahlua liquer
• 36 g yellow cane sugar simple syrup

Directions

1. Mix instant coffee granules with hot water until completely dissolved.
2. Let cool to room temperature. Add in Kahlua and simple syrup. Mix well and set aside.

C) Tiramisu Cream (adapted)

Ingredients:

• 2 egg yolks
• 70 g granulated sugar
•  ̶1̶5̶0̶ ̶g̶ ̶m̶a̶s̶c̶a̶r̶p̶o̶n̶e̶ ̶c̶h̶e̶e̶s̶e̶ ̶ → 100 g cream cheese
• 150 g heavy cream, whipped
• 4 g gelatin
• 1 tsp vanilla extract

Directions

1. In a microwave-safe bowl, sprinkle gelatin over a small amount of water. Heat in the microwave for 10 seconds, or until just dissolved. Set aside. The prepared gelatin must be kept warm to prevent solidifying prematurely.
2. Whisk egg yolks and sugar together in a medium-sized bowl. Float the bowl over a pot of simmering water on the stove.
3. Continue whisking until all sugar granules dissolve and the temperature reads 75 C.
4. Over low heat, add in cream cheese. Mix well to ensure no lumps in the cream.
5. Turn off heat. Add in gelatin mixture and mix to combine, scraping the sides as needed.
6. Add in vanilla extract. Mix again, then remove from heat. Allow to cool to room temperature.
7. Meanwhile, whip heavy cream until soft peaks.
8. Combine pâte à bombe with whipped cream, folding until smooth.

D) Assembly

Directions

1. Layer sponge, coffee syrup, and tiramisu cream alternately in one's preferred choice of mould.
2. If using Sunday's inverted method, start with tiramisu cream followed by sponge and syrup. If using a tray, start with sponge followed by coffee syrup and cream.
3. Allow to chill for 6-8 hours.
4. Invert, if required, then dust the top with cocoa powder.
5. Serve and enjoy!

Notes:

• In my rendition, alcohol is used in the soaking liquid instead of the tiramisu cream. As such, it is crucial to consume the cake within 36 hours of making to prevent the liquid from dissipating to the bottom, causing the top layer(s) to be dry and crumbly while the bottom layer oversaturated and bitter.
• When piping the ladyfinger sponge, strive to work in a cool environment, as the batter can become too loose to hold its shape during piping. (In my case, the non-uniform shape was caused by both an anxious grip and toasty kitchen.)
• Sunday uses Nespresso pods for espresso, however the intensity of branded pods can vary from instant coffee. Adjust to one's preferred potency (and/or instant coffee brand).
• Temperature control is key! The ladyfinger sponge should be piped in a relatively cool environment in order to maintain its elongated shape. For the tiramisu cream, the egg yolks must be heated accordingly to ensure doneness. At the same time, the pâte à bombe must be cooled to a workable temperature to prevent the whipped cream from curdling and dissolving when both components are integrated.
• Sunday's recipe quantities are intended for a singular Tiramisu consisting of three layers each of sponge and cream. In attempting to distribute the finished components between two smaller slab-style cakes, my yield was: 1 three-layer cake and 1 two-layer cake with excess ladyfinger sponge leftover. In other words, the recipe makes enough for 6 layers of sponge and 5 layers of cream in a 4 x 3 ratio.
• For the inverted format, freezing the cake is crucial, for the layers are incredibly delicate and will not retain their shape otherwise. After inverting, allow the cake to thaw in the refrigerator for about one hour before slicing and serving.

​While I did not conduct the QC step for the outgoing cake, my two-layer edition was found positively delectable. Airy yet flavourful, I didn't miss the subtle tang of cream cheese/mascarpone amidst the tiramisu cream. Using a ladyfinger sponge instead of individual ladyfinger biscuits also improved structural stability overall.

Dusting of cocoa powder in advance of serving was also deemed "safe", for the tiramisu cream was stabilized with both egg yolk and gelatin, keeping excess moisture at bay.

Come Monday morning, I scurried to the GO train platform with my laptop, docking station, and miscellaneous accessories in one hand and one of two monitors in the other. Poorly planned was this decision, for the original packaging of the equipment was hardly intended for prolonged periods of carrying. Despite having succeeded in combatting the round trip ascent/descent from the platforms at both Clarkson and Union Station, the plastic handle began to dig into my palms while traversing uphill on Simcoe Street.

​Besides being the last person to leave the platform, I found my speed gradually decelerating with each step forward. At some point, it slowed to a reluctant dragging of feet.
My baking coworker caught up with me from behind, offering a hand in transporting the apparatus. I handed her the laptop, but kept the monitor weighing into my ever-feeble arms. We had just about arrived at the doors of the office, and the box did not support transport via two points of contact.

At long last, I plunged through the doors. My right arm was in excruciating pain. My right hand was numb for at least forty-five minutes, unable to use the mouse as normal.
"That's it." I decided, "Tomorrow I may need to drive downtown after all." The strain was excessive; I couldn't possibly do it again the next day without risking injury.

After I had settled, my baking coworker hesitated not in presenting me with two items, Doraemon-style from her sizable eco tote. A giant portion of SK's Bee Sting Cake was slid my way, followed by a book wrapped in textured paper and jute cord. Both items were exceptionally heavy, thus unfathomable to lug on a lengthy morning commute. Thankfully, I had not planned on exploring after work, for my back would be further burdened by transporting extra weight.

​I confessed that I hadn't even cracked open the book she had previously gifted, nor had it placed on a "coffee table" as decoration. (Rather, the book had joined a stack of others in a main path of access - a stack into which I had accidentally turned too quickly and bashed my toe, resulting in bursts of blood and bruising.) This second book, I later learned, was a compilation of stories and recipes from Edward Lee (!). Mention of the man himself sparked excitement. While intrigued, I cannot guarantee reading will actually take place afterwards.

The Bee Sting Cake was one of her beloved SK recipes, but the sheer size of the cake frankly had me quite horrified. Judging by visuals alone, the cake was incredibly dense. Transporting the specimen home was a feat in itself, but depleting the cake was basically impossible. There was still three-quarters of a Tiramisu and at least ten Matcha White Chocolate Hazelnut Cookies at home.
My baking coworker urged - or rather, demanded - that I unveil the cake and eat it immediately. But the timing was hardly suitable. I was still full from breakfast and any unplanned mid-morning meals would derail the plan for lunch.

In the end, I was proud of myself for standing my ground. Lunchtime took an unexpected turn for The Rec Room. Had ingestion of lunch been delayed, my body wouldn't have been able to undertake Pump It Up! 2023 to its fullest.

​Since my last visit, the games section was expanded and circulation improved. I was less inclined to try the new simulation games than my tried-and-true favourites. With 52 credits, my coworker and I could play about four games.

A interactive rope-climbing game by the name of Goatz-N-Ropes was the first, followed by Speed of Light.

Naturally, I couldn't resist Pump It Up! either. The interface was updated to the 2023 version, which introduced new tracks such as Queencard and Nude by G-IDLE, Teddy Bear and Bubble by STAYC, Beautiful Liar by MONSTA X, and more.

When we resurfaced at street level twenty minutes later, the skies had evolved from sunny blue skies to grey and overcast. Having worked up a sweat, I pointed towards Bevy.

​An Iced Houjicha Latte was acquired. Although neither nutty nor toasty, it was a refreshing beverage nonetheless. For future reference, Bevy's caffeinated drinks deliver greater gustatory satisfaction.

​Towards the end of the day, I was overwhelmed by an unmistakable craving for Shake Shack's crinkle-cut fries. Korea's edition had been impeccably crisp yet tender to the point of disintegrating upon contact. Without a moment's hesitation, I announced my intention to confirm whether Union Station's outpost could offer the same product.

Unfortunately, the fast food outlet boasted greasy, starchy fries devoid of the lovely textural contrast I had yearned for. Neither soggy nor crunchy nor sodium-laden, Shake Shack Union Station's edition was all-around average. Had the five-dollar open container been my first encounter, cravings would have been curbed at the source without recurrence.

My baking coworker's Bee Sting Cake was unwrapped later that evening. A small piece was sampled after dinner, immediately propelling me into a state of discomfort and satiation. As predicted the cake was extremely dense and heavy on the stomach.

The surface layer of almond crunch was spectacular, though the custard too tacky for my liking and yeasted take too coarse on the tongue. Through the tri-layer beast of a cake, I learned that my preferred custard requires more than a mere egg yolk-sugar-cornstarch emulsion. Vanilla (extract and/or bean paste) was not an optional ingredient. Seemingly, neither was whipped cream.

​The next day marked my second and last in-office presence for the foreseeable future.

Driving into the city was a grueling endeavour, yet pivotal to preventing further strain on my already weakened body. By car, the trip spanned a whopping ninety minutes. My usual transit route would involve departing my house no later than 7 AM, boarding the 7:21 AM GO train, and arriving at the office just short of 8 AM. The driving route involved a 7:30 AM departure, 90 minutes of chugging along the Gardiner, and an eventual arrival of 9 AM at the office. Congestion in the GTA was indeed out of hand.

Accompanying my arrival was the second monitor and plenty of Matcha White Chocolate Hazelnut Cookies. In fact, I had stuffed each container to maximum capacity in an effort to ensure cookies for all on the floor.

To my absolute horror, my baking coworker single-handedly distributed the cookies on my behalf, without permission. In just a few minutes, 80% of the largest container had been emptied! I later discovered that each member of the management team received two cookies each, utterly violating my intentions. Moreover, my name and desk number had been scribbled onto the note I had left - again without permission or instruction. The concept of forcibly feeding others did not sit well with me, but even more so the unwarranted distribution of cookies. When I made attempts to redistribute the cookies fairly (ie. maximum one per person), I was appalled to receive a glare in my direction.

"But it's MY food?!?!" I thought silently in outrage. "It's my food that I brought in to share with everyone. Who gave you the right to distribute my food without asking?! How did you know I wanted to give (or not give) to certain people? What if they don't like matcha?"
The self-serve model encourages a liberal environment, for I am neither one to force feed nor one to give my efforts to those that don't care for eating. Let people be.

In the end, a handful of those on the floor did not have their chance of trying a cookie, simply due to this invasive, biased act of pre-distribution. When I passed by desks belonging to the management team later, I found the cookies barely touched. What a waste of my efforts!

As per my request, my farewell lunch was held at Minami, the destination that had instilled awareness of the fabulously scrumptious Minami Roll with negitoro and Japanese wagyu.

​I'd again take to the Minami Signature Selection, but with the addition of a Charred Broccolini Goma-ae. Two pieces of US Wagyu nigiri would also be requested at $7 apiece. It's worth noting that Japanese wagyu was the first choice, but the fourteen dollar price tag deterred us from finalizing the selection. The entire order would be shared with my coworker, who, like me, enjoyed the finer dining options in life but did not boast the stomach capacity of a volume-based eater.

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​The rest of the table took to the Minami Signature Selection for individual consumption, Aburi Real Crab California Roll, Ebi Aburi Oshi, and Chicken Nanban. For those with dietary restrictions (vegetarian, low carb), Tofu Poke Salads offered a meat-free alternative. The "dengaku miso plant-based meat", of which I tasted a smidge, adopted the appearance of ground meat and the profile of waterlogged, heavily salted natto. Tempeh appeared to take the form of maroon-tinted "bacon bits", a drastic deviation from the crisp, toothsome bites from Miku's Chopped Salad years ago.

View the full album HERE !

​First to arrive was the Charred Broccolini Goma-ae. The appetizer comprised of asymmetrical segments of greens topped with a viscous soy-sesame dressing and sprinkle of white sesame seeds. At first glance, the dish appeared quite plain: a seemingly standard starter. But one bite was all that was needed to change our perspective.

Goma-ae (or gomae) is typically served cold and with spinach as its base. Minami's rendition was presented warm, much to my surprise, and utilized the sturdier species of broccolini to enable charring on its exterior. Drawing similarities from tahini, the soy sesame dressing was an elevated edition: nuttier, toastier, and bursting with umami. When consumed with bits of fallen char and sesame seeds, its potential was further heightened for gustatory enjoyment. Both my coworker and I had gazed upon the dish with widened eyes; it was eleven dollars well spent.

​Between the Salmon, Ebi, and Albacore (Tuna) Aburi Oshi, the Salmon was found the heartiest of the trio. Ebi was exceptionally creamy yet juxtaposed with finely grated lime, while Albacore texturally interesting with a crispy caper to top. Our first bite coincided with zealous squeals, apparent to others and arguably less noticeable to ourselves. "I hear excited food noises over there" came a humorous nearby observation.

​The style of cuisine was clearly foreign to a handful of members at the table, for they repeatedly posed inquiries to me regarding the ingredients and decorative elements of my choices when the waitress was the greater source of information. Directly across me, I witnessed chopsticks being pushed aside with a disgusted expression. A fork and spoon were then used to sever the Ebi Aburi Oshi into thirds, chasing broken sections around the perimeter of the rimmed plate for consumption. Admittedly horrified, I refrained from extending any commentary; peering down at the length of the table though, I found that chopsticks had been readily adopted by other members of the team without issue. In this sense, I learned that one's exposure to different culinary experiences was directly correlated to time spent immersing oneself in the city.

​Standalone orders of wagyu were usually reserved for the dinner menu, and offered only as nigiri (not maki). Our US Wagyu Nigiri arrived with a single dandelion bud and side of pickled yellow ginger. The two-piece set was, regrettably, the least desirable pick of our spread. The meat was chewy, largely devoid of seasoning, and even a bit tough. There was validity in the steep price of Japanese wagyu after all.

​After lunch, I returned to the office to continue bidding farewell to others on the floor. In less than two hours, the group would depart once more - this time for a site visit near the Waterfront.

Traversing south of Union via the PATH made for quite the nostalgic route. I had observed the transformation of retailers before, during, and after the pandemic. Where old favourites disappeared, new contenders surfaced.

In just two months, The Krys had also been overtaken by Cluck'N Bowl, a distinctly less innovative fast food establishment.

​Looking south, it also dawned on me that Love Park had replaced the former public art space (617) where the pillars from the demolished Gardiner off-ramp once resided.

Our site visit served to accomplish two purposes:

1. To allow visualization of a completed mixed-use development from plans to reality
2. To identify issues arising as a result of permitted design choices and allow for mitigation in future developments

Being able to see various configurations of "stacked" and "vertical" bike parking firsthand constituted another informative component.

​When the visit concluded just short of 4 PM, the team bid me one final farewell before parting ways.

Alas, I wouldn't be making my departure from the city just yet! After work activities included attendance in a Beginner Hip Hop class near Bloor-Yonge - proposed by yours truly, of course.

Our commute became less than straightforward when train delays sent us heading north along the west leg of Line 1. I advocated for a bubble tea stop, but changed my mind at seeing promotional content for imPerfect Fresh Eats' Happy Hour menu.
"Three dollars!" one of coworkers announced. "That's a good deal!"
I agreed, eyes lingering on the poster.
"Do you want to go in?"
And thus, we did.

Both the Butterfly Lemonade Refresher ad Elderberry Hibiscus Passion Refresher qualified for the Happy Hour promotion. While my coworker received the two-toned variation with butterfly pea flower, the cashier informed me that a subsequent order would require a minimum fifteen minute wait, given that they had just run out of tea. Somewhat reluctantly, I pointed to the Elderberry Hibiscus. Despite being a tad sweet at first sip, it was perfectly refreshing after spending some time walking (and dancing).

​Slowly but surely, we found ourselves at the entrance of Dance Life X.

Located on the upper floor of the building, the establishment featured five studios of varying sizes, plus benches, cubbies, and a coat rack for student use. Though I had planned to simply pay on-site for the drop-in class of choice, the receptionists advised us that online registration was mandatory. Each of us were instructed to create user accounts on the spot and request class via the online portal. In the case of errors (ie. class full), the receptionist would override the alerts and continue with payment. This process felt utterly unnecessary, but is probably to determine class counts and maintain a comprehensive record of enrollment even in the face of high staff turnover.

​Gender-separated washrooms were found oustide Studio B/C, each featuring two stalls and a horrendous amount of filth lining the perimeter of the facility. While the back of the door had one hook, there was no toilet seat cover to prevent one's belongings from falling into the toilet - or worse, the garbage - while changing. Dedicated changerooms were not available on the premises.

Class participants gradually filed into the studio in the ten minutes leading up to the start time. As the bodies in the rows behind me accumulated, I was thankful for the extensive number of fans and their placement throughout the studio. Students were able to operate the fans without the instructor's assistance (no remote control needed), which was the greatest benefit of all.
My sole gripe was being blocked by a lanky student who had entered the class late and decided that standing directly in front of me was the appropriate choice. In response to my displeasure, he shifted to the right, simultaneously blocking the path of the fan and causing my coworker to retreat to the second row. Surely it ought have been common sense for late attendees to head to the back to prevent obstructing early birds, but I guess not.

Ignorant lanky boy aside, I enjoyed the Beginner Hip Hop class thoroughly. The instructor was energetic and friendly, and the choreography fitting for a group of beginners. The moves weren't particularly technical, nor the pace too rushed. That said, I realized once more my lack of groove in execution of the dance. Despite having greater range of motion and strength than the rest of the class, my performance lacked the laidback attitude of hip hop. Truthfully, I'm not too certain how to go about improving this aspect.

I vowed to return to Dance Life X, primarily convinced by the ample ventilation devices. The main obstacle was logistics, seconded by the revolting bathroom.

​As dusk fell upon the city, our group of three became a wandering duo. One of my coworkers had fought fatigue endlessly to join me on my last hurrah, and I truly could not appreciate the gesture more. When the other agreed to join me for a supper of ramen in spite of a low carb diet, I knew I had made another friend for life.

Locating my eatery of choice was no easy feat. Tucked away at the back of a residential complex with a low-rise component, Ramen Raijin required heading down a questionable alley bordered with construction fences. At seeing the storefront, I experienced a Deja vu moment: Ramen Raijin had replaced Teppan Kenta with minimal decor alterations. The interior was also consistent with my memory - unsurprising, as both restaurants offered Japanese fast casual cuisine.

​At the centre of the ramen house was a large communal table, specifically intended for solo diners. Parties of two or more found themselves in compact spaces along the perimeter. Minimal space was allocated for coats and bags though, so it is advised against bringing bulky items.

​Not a single salad graced the menu, leaving my companion was take to appetizers of Tako-Wasabi, Aburi Shimesaba (grilled mackerel), and Edamame. Meanwhile, I opted for a Gyokai Tonkotsu Shoyu Ramen with Chicken Broth and Pork Chashu. A Soft-Boiled Egg would incur an additional charge of two dollars, bringing my order total to $18.50 plus tax. Interestingly, the trio of appetizers rang in at the exact same price. Tacking on a Duck Confit from the seasonal menu raised the subtotal to $26, a whopping number for strictly starters.

​Although I enjoyed being able to customize my broth and chashu protein, the Gyokai Shoyu Ramen was largely underwhelming. Soggy nori and scanty servings of bamboo shoots and green onion constituted the ramen's only toppings. The Shoyu broth lacked dimension. The noodles were more rigid than desired. In addition, my Soft-Boiled Egg had been forgotten.

Raising the concern to a member of staff caused the item to be presented two minutes later in a small ceramic dish. As my coworker laughed at the accuracy of my assumption, I could merely nod in acknowledgement: It wasn't the first time it's happened.

The add-on item was worth every penny, for it was flavourful and lusciously golden. On the other hand, the ramen was sorely forgettable.

Across the table were barely share-able platters of Tako-wasabi and Shimesaba. The former boasted soggy nori in the face of inadequate potency, while the latter revealing itself as being barely sufficient for one person. Moreover, I wrinkled my nose at the paper thing slices of grilled mackerel and the absence of grated daikon for pairing.​

​The Duck Confit was a peculiar order, neither particularly tangy (from the Balsamic) nor gamey with defined layers of skin, fat, and flesh. Four pieces were served alongside whole cherry tomatoes and more scallion rings, forming a highly average $7.50 dish.

Blanched in hot water than salted before serving, the Edamame was the least exciting menu item of all.

Bathrooms were located at the back of the restaurant. I was gestured towards the accessible stall, as the staff was conducting an evening cleaning shift on the others. Aside from spaciousness, the stall appeared to lack regular maintenance, evident in its sticky floors, overflowing disposal bin, and single roll of toilet paper.

​Suffice to say, the Ramen Raijin experience left little to be desired.

​Around 9:30 PM, I'd begin my journey home. The day had been atypically lengthy, yet brimming with memories characterizing my time downtown. Impactful had been my team, office, and coworkers. In leaving the role, I'd be parting with more than just a job, but a supportive network of peers and mentors as well. Of course, I'll also miss my solo lunch walks of exploration and errands.

​The future is never certain. While I do wonder about alternative circumstances, I am ecstatic to commence a new chapter in my career.