Out & About #1150 | Vaughan Stopover, Slow Bite + Yonge Sheppard Centre

The unexpected offer of a complimentary laser session led to a last-minute reconfiguration of my weekend schedule. foodrealm's recent visit to Philosophy of Beauty had spurred my own trip out to Steeles and Keele. The mid-morning appointment had bestowed relatively smooth driving conditions - a blessing given that ambitious baking goals had delayed my departure about five minutes. In fact, I arrived five minutes early, which accounted for an early turn into the adjacent commercial/industrial plaza. Truthfully, the Downsview district is not one that out-of-towners visit without an objective in mind.

Three receptionists were positioned at the front counter. One got up from the windowside lounge area to greet me. I carefully navigated around and over the robot vacuum towards the reception desk. Constant cleanup of the entrance area was understandable given the incredulous amounts of ice, salt, and debris dragged in from the wintry streets outside, however having consistently wet floor increases the risk of slips and falls, especially for older clients that do not have their eyes fixated on the ground to scan for potential hazards.

In advance of the appointment, I had provided my name, phone number, and email. Upon check-in, the receptionist requested proof of ID as well. The entire ordeal felt excessive and unnecessary, as if they could not trust a client without contractual obligations to pay. A one-page consent form was provided for population. Afterwards, I was directed towards one of the treatment rooms at the back of the facility.
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​Two narrow indoor plumbing facilities were spotted along the way. Boasting dried lavender, a monochromatic scheme, and two forms of room fragrance, the initial appearance gave off the illusion of refinement, tranquility, and neatness. Inching further into the stall informed of extremely poor design decisions. For starters, there was insufficient clearance between the sink cabinets and toilet. The toilet paper holder had been mounted to the side of the cabinet, at least one foot behind the front of the toilet seat, making it nearly impossible for the user to reach. Coinciding with this awful misalignment was the dangling of clean toilet paper sheets into the not-so-sophisticated plastic wastebin positioned directly underneath. Other observations include dust along the countertop, peeling paint on the side of the door, and a door handle that was not level. While I appreciated the soft, fabric-like napkins for hand-drying and the hook on the back of the door, I simply could not shrug off the senseless arrangement of the toilet paper holder.

​Entering into the treatment room, I was overwhelmed by the clinical appearance. A (presumably reclining) treatment chair was positioned in a hollowed space at the back of the room, almost squarely facing the door, with the laser apparatus adjacent. Certificates and licenses had been hung in a grid-like format on the wall behind. Resting on a counter towards the left was an array of equipment organized for easy access by the technician: eye protection goggles/glasses, disposable razors, alcohol, and more. Further tools and ointments were stocked within the cabinets, away from public view. A wave of anxiety was experienced laying eyes on the scene, for the environment bore greater similarities to a cold, eerie laboratory than a spa treatment room. Belongings could be placed on the hooks behind the door or atop the nearby dusty chair. Delineating the layer of dust from the base of the chair were several quick swipes of a paper towel or washcloth; the result were subtle stripes of grey and black.

The technician had entered into the room to provide me with a briefing and cautionary speech, or so it seemed. As part of the promotion, I was permitted one "small area" for laser treatment. When I inquired of further details, she clarified that the visit was intended to be an "intro session" such that tolerance could be determined before subsequent treatments. Although I had confirmed prior experience with laser treatment, the technician declared that she would be using the lowest strength on the machine, as there were too many unknowns associated with past treatment history. Having announced this, she sauntered out of the room to allow me to prepare.

Noticing the scuff marks on both armrests and at the footrest area of the chair, I hesitantly climbed on. Nearly immediately, the delicate examination paper tore. Sighing, I settled into the chair, prepared for a comprehensive cleanse of my entire being upon reaching home.

A few minutes later, the technician returned. I had the option of choosing between goggles or glasses for eye protection. Naturally, I opted for the latter, for they could be worn over regular glasses without fear of shifting during treatment. And then the machine was initiated. The process spanned just two minutes. In spite of the customary burn smell from lasers, it wasn't painful. The Candella GentleMax Pro was even equipped with cooling gusts to alleviate pain. Either way, my skin immediately turned warm and bright red. The technician deemed my skin extremely sensitive and began to apply a thick, white cream to the affected areas. Her after-care instructions included: No hot showers, avoiding perfumes (and deodorant if possible), and waiting 5 minutes for the cream to absorb before departing. The third measure was important, for the cream would stain any surface with which it came into contact. With regard to hot showers, I hadn't planned on showering immediately - not that a shower was within reach anyway. By evening, the redness had faded, but my skin was revealed two shades darker. Hopefully, this shall be a temporary side effect.
Given the clinic's location, commercial smiles, and lack of cleanliness, I wasn't keen on revisiting.

​The early hour had enabled a swift trip to North York. Although I had planned on obtaining Nene Chicken's location-specific Valentine's Day Special, residual queasiness in my stomach led to dismiss the desire.

​I resolved to visit Slow Bite instead, a café located at the southeast corner of Yonge and Sheppard. Nearby parking options were plenty, but I settled on the Service Ontario lot for convenience. Weekends saw a flat rate of five dollars, and payment could easily be settled via the Parkedin mobile app. A quick stroll led me to the base of the commercial complex, which housed law and dental offices in addition provincial government services.

​Slow Bite's entrance fronted onto Sheppard, making it easy to locate. The interior was compact, but well illuminated with windows along the perimeter. The seating area adopted an L-shaped configuration, while the order counter and bakery area assumed the remainder of the space. The café had strategically maximized its limited GFA with a single communal table and benches with floating tables everywhere else. After strolling in, my gaze fell upon the vast assortment of pastries within their display shelf. Adopting a similar floating arrangement were drink menu listings on the wall behind the cashier.
Despite the early weekend morning, the interior of Slow Bite was positively bustling. Brunch crowds, families with young children, and elderly reading newspapers assumed the diverse crowd that filled the space. Ahead of me in line was a woman confirming orders on the phone; behind me was a mother and her young daughter eagerly pointing towards the lofty stack of croissants.

Moments of contemplation later, I placed a to-go order comprising of a Pain Suisse and Banoffee Danish. Eager to relive the EATALY experience, I followed in the footsteps of the man that ordered before me and pointed to a Mortadella Sandwich with housemade focaccia. Upon receiving recommendations from the cashier, I also took to a half-sweet Vanilla Latte. Near the counter was a poster that notified a Vanilla Roll and Americano being retailed in a $10 combo. I wasn't certain why the deal was restricted to the Vanilla Roll, but given that the pastry was priced at $8 alone (and an Americano at $3.95), it wasn't a bad deal. My order was processed with a friendly efficiency akin to in Taiwan, much to my pleasure. When I inquired of the default packaging for the pastries and sandwich, the cashier was remarkably kind and responded in a way that caught me off guard.
"What would you like?" She said with a smile, "We can package it the way you want."
Slightly stunned at the overwhelming hospitality, I managed to respond, "Can I have the pastries in a box and the sandwich in a bag?"
"We can do that!"

​The box emerged much larger than expected though, as did the packaged sandwich. In the absence of a paper bag for carrying, I juggled to transport both items plus my Vanilla Latte to the condiment station for acquisition of a clear, plastic (!) lid. Another mission it was to transport the trio to the seating area, where I'd remain for a few minutes.

​My first sip of the Vanilla Latte was toasty and gratifying. The brew was fragrant, while the concoction silky without being overly milky. I had not requested a swap of oat milk for 3.25% whole milk, though believed it to be an option given that Oatside had constituted a spot on the merchandise shelf. Hokusan Niju and De Mello have gradually become the standard suppliers in Toronto cafés as of late, however I soon learned that De Mello had crafted a unique blend just for the café. This was a cool, unexpected discovery that distinguished Slow Bite from the rest.

Wrapped in wax paper and placed within a large brown paper, the Mortadella Sandwich was a mammoth-sized square brimming with fixings. The sheer size of the sandwich risked messy eating and loss of dignity in a public space. I had attempted a bite within the café, but found the wax paper wrapper somewhat greasy with remnants of the adjacent sandwich affixed to the outside. In the absence of wet wipes, it seemed reasonable to return to the car to eat. Vacant spaces by the window were quite chilly with crumbs lodged in the ridges. Across the aisle was a lady with her feet propped up onto a stool and newspapers on the table and floor, acting as if it were her living room. This scene further prompted me to consume in the comfort of my own car.

​Cold focaccia wasn't ideal in realizing its crisp exterior and supple underside, however it had been a conscious decision to request all items to go. (Frankly, I'm not even sure if reheating was an option as it would cause the soft cheese to ooze and fresh greens to wither.) Nevertheless, the sandwich was positively scrumptious with bountiful layers of flavour: pesto, fresh herbs, juicy tomatoes, soft cheese, and a hint of sweet pungency. Needless to say, I was unable to finish an entire portion alone, but still managed to devour slightly over one half of the sandwich. Although an arguably unfair comparison due to temperature, I preferred the focaccia found at EATALY for its voluminous, wispy surface. That said, Slow Bite's Mortadella Sandwich comprehensively justified its fifteen-dollar price tag with a plethora of delicious inclusions.

One of the few wonderful things about winter is that one needs not fear about leaving food in the car. External temperatures prove lower than the standard temperature, assisting in preserving sustenance without fear of spoilage. Latte in hand and baked goods in the trunk, I set out to make use of my parking fee and explore the area. Within minutes, however, I realized I was underdressed for an outdoor walk and sheepishly ducking into Dollarama.

One and a half years have passed since my last visit to Yonge Sheppard Centre. Having never explored the concourse level, I was surprised to discover an expansive Dollarama that connected into the mixed-use building. From tufted mirrors to childhood favourites of party leis, ring skippers, and slinkies, the selection was simply incredible! The location featured the widest assortment of birthday and party goods ever witnessed, along with countless home and office goods: $1.75 mousepad with wrist rest, $5 wired keyboard, $4.75 pillows, $4.25 pillow cases, windshield wiper fluid, Crème-branded makeup wipes, and even Instant-branded accessories. There was a distinct lack of fitness equipment besides yoga mats and dumbbells, which likely reflects the needs of the local demographic.

​The concourse of Yonge Sheppard Centre also provided connections to the subway, street-level retail, and neighbouring residential buildings. Other findings included a food court, Kin Kin outpost (last seen at Atrium on Bay), and Cherry Photo Booth, which was an odd venture to combine donations and photostrip fees in one transaction.

​Although I had debated braving the walk to Empress Walk for heavy cream, the convenient discovery of Shoppers Drug Mart nixed that need. My go-to 473 ml carton was now on sale for $3.50 each!

Some more browsing later, it was time to head home. There were schedules to attend to, after all. My return was ultimately delayed by collisions at the highway ramp, despite the gloriously sunny, uninterrupted journey along the 401.

​Slow Bite's Pain Suisse and Banoffee Danish were unveiled later that afternoon. Priced at $6.00 and $6.95 respectively, I had decent expectations for the vivacious viennoiseries.

​The Banoffee Danish remained intact and did not slide around at all during transit. Consequently, the whipped cream topping preserved its whimsically wavy shape. Speckled with vanilla bean and fine puddles of toffee/caramel, I marvelled at the topping before even slicing into the Danish. It was smooth and aerated, but definitely not light on the stomach. A sprinkling reminiscent of wheat bran adhered to the Chantilly; it did not boast much of a taste, thus was presumed to be a finely grated mild chocolate.

​A decisive maneuver of the knife resulted in flaky, satisfying shards to fly from the pastry. It was uniformly golden brown all over, but not burnt in the slightest. At its centre was a viscous custard and softened chunk of banana. Indulgent and quite satiating overall, I could not deplete half in one sitting. The Danish mandated a hot beverage at its side - either an full-bodied Americano or piping cup of hot water.

​On the other hand, the Pain Suisse was devoured steadily. Its seemingly commonplace appearance had the potential to cause it to recede into the background, but, personally speaking, Pain Suisse was a specimen that rarely disappoints.

​The signature flaky strands across its surface are immensely enjoyable, shattering magically under contact. The interior housed a thin layer of custard that oozed slightly after baking, resembling melted cheese. Nestled into the custard were sticks of dark chocolate, which contributed sophisticated, bitter notes to contrast against the delightful, leavened pastry and soft custard lining. Suffice to say, I enjoyed this creation tremendously.

Location aside, Slow Bite was a solid café addition to the North York district. Whether pastries or bread, the destination delivered quality products and aromatic coffee with exceptional service.