With an impending thunderstorm warning heading our way, occhung and I contemplated alternatives to our originally planned hangout session, ultimately reverting to a walk through Kensington Market, which would then be succeeded by uptown adventures.
Deduced from prior research, I arrived at the surmise that Kensington and Chinatown are the two leading districts in DineSafe offenses in the downtown core. (Church and Wellesley and several Garden District spots are next up on the list.) That being said, I was especially meticulous in choosing a dining location would provide not only gustatory enjoyment but thwart possible cases of food poisoning.
Millie's savoury crepes was the next closest option. However, it seemed that local renditions of the French dish were not on the menu today, as the lady informed us that their griddles had suffered an equipment breakdown.
Famished by this point, we turned the corner and settled for The Dirty Bird, a comfort food canteen that neither of us had previously visited. The stained monochromatic menu hung above the extremely minimal order-taking, order delivery, and cashier area.
Albeit delicious, most of the items sounded a tad excessive for a mid-day meal: "buttered maple waffle" Mmmmmm.
Our attention was instantly directed towards the Signatures selection, specifically The Dirty Bird'ger.
All seating takes the form of bar stools and tall tables, which enables one to clearly view the remnants abandoned by other patrons on the ground. No-name sauce bottles are sticky, as expected, and uncapped, left to dry out from air exposure. The only capped condiment was the Heinz ketchup, which was thankfully the least greasy of the trio. Napkins were situated at every corner for easy access, though this was far from being synonymous with a clean environment.
While double-ended hooks were available for hanging light outerwear and small bags underneath the seats, I erred on the side of caution and avoided the apparatus altogether, my mind desperately trying to reject contemplating the various potential underlying substances. (Gum is one thing, but dried sauce mixed with breading-filled slobber is another.)
Besides these hooks, there was little space for placing personal belongings.
The chicken was well-seasoned and very crispy. Approximately 80% of the piece was solid flesh and flavour, while the remainder comprised of tendons, fat, and odd bits that hadn't been removed during the dividing process.
Fried chicken and waffles is a classic combination, but the "burger" stack that I sank my teeth into was merely average. Freshness had been severely compromised: the single piece of romaine lettuce was depressing and wilted, tomato slices were thin and sickly-looking, pickles were sliced too long and slightly dehydrated, etc.
On behalf of the two of us, I voluntarily took to ensuring that proper disposal practices were followed. However, the smear of sauce that brushed the back of my hand as I retreated from the garbage bin was far from the ideal reward.
I step into the women's bathroom and fumble around in the dark before concluding the unthinkable absence of a light switch.
"No matter." I thought, "I'll simply wash my hands first then continue searching."
Propping up the door with one foot, light from the hallway was allowed to penetrate and illuminate a small section of the bathroom. As I pulled away to grab a paper towel though, it was discovered that the tin was completely empty.
Whipping around, I contemplated entering another hallway before the quietness of it all had me dashing back upstairs with wet hands. Real-life Danganronpa is not for me.
(Side: Cocktail ice sphere makers?! I'm sold.)
Peanut Butter Jelly Time was amazing in every way. Delectable housemade peanut butter drizzle, refreshing raspberry jam, and crunchy toasted granola swirled the tongue with each scoop. Plain Greek yogurt wasn't plain at all - it was heavenly. I had anticipated a signficiant amount of satiation from the peanut butter and sugar overload from the jam, but was overjoyed that both components yielded a light yet flavourful harmony. Indeed, ochungg had picked well.
Continue reading Part 2 HERE !