Out & About #1128 | North York Hangout Feat. Mister Wheel, DYAM + Nakwon Kisa Restaurant

I collapsed into bed after two back-to-back days of activity. However, my long weekend plans were far from being over.

My former coworker had been kind enough to meet up in the later half of the day to accommodate my need for sleeping in and recovery. As such, plans would commence around the early afternoon and conclude before the evening.

I slept till around 11 AM, rushed a load of laundry, then prepared accordingly.

We had agreed to meet at Centerpoint Mall, sheerly out of my curiosity for a games space by the name of Forever Young. While the stores within the mall were shuttered for the statutory holiday, the parking lot was oddly full. I couldn't figure out why until it was suggested that the mall itself was open, but the stores within were closed.

I had barely made managed to catch a glimpse of Forever Young when I laid eyes on the horrifying sight of parking mayhem before the entrance. Internal site circulation was positively awful! There were multiple conflict points for inbound vehicles from Steeles and vehicles and pedestrians navigating through the site.

​Eventually, I found parking in front of Canadian Tire and crossed the asphalt lot towards Forever Young. Perhaps I should have expected the interior to be filled with children, for it was long weekend after all. The screams were deafening and the entryway far busier than my sanity could handle. Prices are seemed ludicrous for the amount of time I'd be spending in wait of little kids.

Spinning on my heel, I resorted to head into Centerpoint Mall instead. At one of its north entrances, I was surprised to find Alminz Kakanin. I had heard news of Galleria taking over the lot at Steeles and Hilda, but hadn't expected relocation of the Filipino specialty grocer so soon. The storefront was vibrant and noticeably cleaner than the rest of the single storey shopping centre.

I decided to take a gander later, for finding a bathroom was of utmost priority. Consistent with my expectations, stores within the mall were indeed closed. This hadn't stopped locals from congregating in the food court or the corridors, however. The interior was shockingly busy, to the point where I had difficulty maneuvering. A handful of eateries and food kiosks remained open. Much to my relief, the bathrooms were open as well.

​My former coworker joined me inside the mall shortly afterwards. We browsed the multitude of stalls forming an indoor marketplace, concluding a common theme amongst the merchandise (Middle Eastern vibes, china and teaware, and apparel for the elderly, etc.) and how Centerpoint served the function of a community centre more than a retail space. "You can say it - it's dingy. But these people are locals that don't have a community gathering space nearby." I was told.

​Seeing as Forever Young was too chaotic (and too pricey) for my liking, I suggested heading to Yonge and Finch for snacks. There, the atmosphere was better suited for those of our age group, culinary palate, and spending power - or rather, lack thereof.

Having secured parking first, I briskly strode into Upper East Food Club in search of Mister Wheel. Taiwanese wheel cakes weren't foreign to me, but they had always been incredibly difficult to locate in the GTA.

​I neared the cashier and was promptly ignored for the entire duration. Consequently, my energy was redirected towards their online order platform, supported by Snappy. Signage posted along the counter informed that all orders would require fifteen minutes to prepare. By ordering on the browser-based platform, I could venture elsewhere instead of persisting aimlessly in a warm and unnecessarily noisy environment.

The menu ranged from classic fillings of Custard and Red Bean to modern Matcha and Earl Grey, trendy Thai Tea, and fusion flavours such as Maple and Pistachio.

​A Custard Wheel Cake set me back $3.99, while a Taro Wheel Cake with added mochi (extra dollar) set me back $5.49.

In the meantime, I crossed back to the west side of Yonge to meet my dining partner-in-crime at Don't Yell At Me.

​Yanking open the door, we were greeted by a plethora of spooky Halloween decorations. The bubble tea spot was quieter than anticipated.
One of us took to a Coconut Milk Coffee Latte, while the other a Chrysanthemum Lime Dew. The latter was obviously me, for I had been yearning for a beverage that was refreshing and would pair well with the Wheel Cakes.

The barista at the cashier had difficulty explaining the profile of the beverage, but the Chinese name provided the insight I needed. 菊花冬瓜柠檬茶 combined the invigorating properties of lemon tea with the roasted complexity of wintermelon and mild floral notes of chrysanthemum, making for an innovative, phenomenal brew.

I unveiled the Custard Wheel Cake first. Sweet and enticing in fragrance with specks of vanilla bean in the filling, the cross-section was indeed promising. Unfortunately, the taste was extremely lacking. Bland and tacky, it wasn't difficult to detect cornstarch in place of egg yolk or cream as the thickening agent. Across from me, the inclusion of custard powder was debated, however Bird's would have instilled a distinct yellow hue to the formula. This one was unmistakably pale.

Taro, on the other hand, delicious: mild and not very sweet, yet boasting an enjoyable texture all the same. Moreover, the mochi was fantastically chewy and not intrusive whatsoever! I declared the loonie surcharge justified.
The wheel cake batter itself was reminiscent of a dorayaki and egg waffle hybrid, except nowhere as sweet as dorayaki and with nominal amounts of leavening. It retained its structure well, preserving a crisp exterior and chewy, "Q" interior. In contrast to egg waffle batter, the wheel cake was cake-like in its arrangement of air voids, but not hollow.

​With conversations remaining and stomachs not totally full, we proceeded to explore North York in search of another snack, or even an early supper.

555 Boat Noodles piqued our curiosity. The only caveat: the eatery was closed for Thanksgiving.

​Numerous options were evaluated, but neither budget-friendly oden from Kim's a la cart or Matcha Cheese Tarts from Uncle Tetsu could stimulate withdrawal of my wallet.

An uptown outpost of chapayom was observed along Spring Garden. A Thai Green Milk Tea was procured beside me.
Remarks returned positive, albeit consistent with my own deductions: the original Thai Tea is superior.

"Let's be real: We're not going to get food." announced my dining partner-in-crime. But a single gaze into Nakwon at sundown changed my mind. It somehow dawned on me in that moment: I was hungry.

​A relatively new addition to the Yonge and Finch food scene, the restaurant concept enabled customers to access unlimited soup, rice, and banchan (side dishes) with purchase of a main dish. A minimum order of one main per person was mandated, much to my disappointment.

Alas, I was eager to try the self-serve "salad bar" of banchan, thus grudgingly agreed to the one order per person rule. Server interaction was limited to none, for all orders were placed via a QR code affixed to the table. Once submitted, utensils were retrieved from a drawer built into the table and banchan/rice could be obtained from the general serving area.

Besides the minimum order rule, additional signage advised of further restrictions:

• No takeout of banchan
• No self-serve for beverages
• Choice of either ice cream bar or Korean coffee after the meal

I happily helped myself to the vast assortment of young kimchi, marinated fish cake, spinach, slaw, potato salad, japchae, bean sprouts, and more. The two trays were placed back onto the table before I neared the bar once more for Pumpkin Porridge. Utensils were retrieved from the drawer, and the feast began. It truly felt as if I had been whisked back to Korea - plastic-encased wet wipes and overbearing signage and all!

The banchan was, without a doubt, the highlight of the eating experience. Cucumber chunks dipped in ssamjang offered the best of freshness and umami. Pumpkin porridge was hearty, with cooked rice grains for sustenance, and a bit sweet, reflective of in-season kabocha. The marinated spinach and sliced fishcake were items I'd normally show restraint towards, but, seeing as the serving size wasn't finite for sharing, I could finally indulge to my heart's desire. The acidic young kimchi, slippery japchae, and potato salad were interesting as well. A tad grainy and containing macaroni bits, the Korean-style potato salad incorporated skin-on apple and was sweeter than it was savoury. Across from me, furrowed brows signified displeasure towards the South Korean tendency to add sugar to typically savoury or neutral dishes.

Our $22 Kimchi Bibimyeon mains arrived about ten minutes later. The crispy laver and mature kimchi-topped bowl was accompanied by fried chicken with cranberry sauce, pumpkin jeon, sweet corn kernels, more kimchi, and a single marinated shrimp. My enjoyment levels plummeted sharply around this point, for fieriness plagued the consumption process. The bibimyeon was far too spicy to eat, as was the side of the kimchi. I could barely ingest the marinated shrimp before rushing towards the salad bar for a bowl of rice to extinguish the flames. The rice was complimentary, but neither short-grain nor fresh. Rather, the grains had darkened in tone, revealing dry and overcooked qualities. When not in use, the paddle was placed in a water bucket for easier cleanup.

Being somewhat soggy and incompatible with cranberry sauce, the microscopic fried chicken stripes were merely average at best. The Pumpkin Jeon was starchy and greasy, though passable. The julienned radish kimchi was as intolerable as the fermented kimchi tainting the noodles and slaw of the main dish. Frankly, I did not understand the requirement for slaw in a noodle dish whatsoever. As for the other components, I enjoyed the crunchiness of the seaweed topping before it grew soggy and salvaged the white of the hard-boiled egg halve, discarding the fully-cooked yolk (complete with nasty grey exterior!) with disgust.

​Although the salad bar offered orange slices and yakult to aid in digestion, both of us settled on a B-B-Big Red Bean Ice to conclude the meal. Do note that it was horribly frozen and nearing the point of freezer burn, but nonetheless delicious with coarse bits of red bean.

Washrooms were located on the basement level, accessible only via a steep stairwell with short steps and sticky floors. The stalls were hardly pristine: I observed grimy surfaces with an obvious layer of dust.

Nakwon Kisa Restaurant was a decent meal that conjured recollections of dining in Korea. The orange slices, in particular, reminded me of the woefully sour slices from the samgyetang restaurant in Jeju. That said, the mains were generally too pricey given their constituents and lack of protein. For those looking for a heartier alternative with meat, the bill would easily climb to $40-50 or more. The availability of rotating side dishes was a nice touch though, as even regulars would always have something new to look forward to.
In conclusion, the eatery offered good value for those with substantial appetites, but was unsuitable for those with appetites like mine. Not to mention, I couldn't even eat the bibimyeon due to its atrocious spice level.

​Packaged yakgwa was presented to patrons following payment. I slipped mine into my tote, fully knowing I'd never consume it.

By this point, the sun had set. We gradually made our way back to the parking lot and bid farewell. The next day was, tragically, yet another office day.