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Out & About #341 | Shops at Don Mills, Taylors Landing + Snug Harbour

5/21/2017

 
​FOMO is informaly defined as "fear of missing out" - an abbreviation for the anxiety experienced when one is excluded from a social activity and where absense becomes directly linked with peer pressure.
Few and far between are situations that I can claim FOMO for; as opposed to converging a pack and following the same sequence of actions as others would adhere to during their stay, I tend to enjoy investigating the reasons for their visits much more.

Shops at Don Mills isn't a tremendously large space, yet it has appeared over and over again on my feeds, revealing romatic streams of bulb lights during dusk and vibrant umbrella arrangements on spring days. A solid four to six weeks have passed since I first pestered a friend to accompany (read: act as my chauffeur), but conflicting schedules and a potential overseas move halted this.
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​Come mid-May, I finally convinced another friend of mine to drive out to the suggested destination. We embarked on a much-needed girls' day out, which really hasn't happened since the horrible snow/rain-storm in February. 

Majority of the nearby neighbourhoods were residential according to Google, so we decided to explore the lunch options inside the plaza once a parking spot was secured. When JOEY was ruled out for high occupancy levels, we made a beeline for Taylors Landing across the street.

Conveniently located outside the central square of Shops, the restaurant was a part of The Landing Group Bar Grill Hub chain, with a certain Taylor (or Taylors?) possessing ownership of the franchise.
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​An intricate network of orange-tinged bulbs made for a gorgeous glow during daytime hours (and predictably stunning bokeh come nightfall). Near the entrance, specifically at the hostess's reception area, was a "Landing Cure" Caesar, placed ever so strategically to coax customers inwards with their Clamato cravings.

The patio was closed due to heavy rain and medium-high winds, but there remained an abundance of seating inside. Such spots ranged from bar stools for prolonged conversations with the bartender (or drinking company), booths for intimate gatherings, and communal tables for large parties.
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​We arrived in time for brunch, allowing us to pick from the special selection of mid-morning munchies as well as the regular lunch menu.
Our server, who appeared shortly after we were seated by the hostess, was an awfully friendly entity whose ability to offer informed recommendations, answer acute questions, and maintain smooth flow of conversation impressed me as much as it stunned me. He was a talkative soul with a bounty of knowledge and experience. It seemed apparent that he had resided with the Taylors Landing team since the beginning, which consequently paved the way for carrying conversations with ease and providing sufficient detail regarding menu items and kitchen operations. (Names have been omitted for privacy purposes, but the first letter is interchangeable with one of the aforementioned descriptions.)

Perhaps the crowds had been deterred by the grey skies, or perhaps it was the second-last day of long weekend, but the environment wasn't very busy. This was likely the reason why our server was able to thoroughly provide answers to my questions and even step aside from his regular duties to assist in napkin-holding (ie. light-reflecting). Regardless, these actions were commendable and left a lasting impression on me. I was aware that the scenario would have undoubtedly changed in a busier atmosphere.
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​My dining partner chose the Chicken & Waffles from the brunch menu, and I the Herb & Citrus Chicken Club.
The classic brunch dish was served garnished with microgreens and alongside a creamy, viscous sauce reminiscent of mashed potato, notwithstanding taste, texture, nor off-beige hue. Four quarters of a Belgian waffle were arranged on a long, white ceramic dish; they appeared dry and stale but were actually fragrant and crispy upon closer inspection. Surprisingly, they withheld their shape despite the unfitting, unusually moist dressing.

​Protein in the form of deep fried chicken was crunchy, flavourful, and, most importantly, tender. The surface of the waffles and bottom side of chicken were also glazed with a thin, syrup-like substance, contributing to the ever-coveted sweet-savoury combination. With the exception of the mushy sauce, the item was one of the more proper chicken and waffles that I had tasted. Full points would have been rewarded for a citrus- or floral-based condiment and if the overall composition was a little less satiating.
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My own choice of the Herb & Citrus Chicken Club was more enjoyable from my perspective, and "healthier" from my companion's point of view. A few notches less filling than the former, it boasted a wonderful combination of tomato, peameal bacon, and fresh arugula encased in a warm, airy croissant. The multi-grain properties meant added crunch via flaxseed, sesame, and other textured bits. I was astounded to discover that the baked good had been crafted in-house, as its flakiness and butter content was almost on par with Brioche Doree. (The King West bakery is ultimately the champion of authentic French pastries though.)

I must confess: the sandwich was incorrectly named, for it possessed no hints of citrus and only sported herbs in the form of pesto smeared atop a rigid slab of chicken breast. Chipotle aioli added a jazzy touch to the club sandwich's components, but not enough to camouflage the toughness of the lean white meat. Despite this, I still savoured every last bite of the dish - tastiness had not been compromised in the other aspects, after all.
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​Washrooms were clearly visible from all parts of the restaurant - labelled with either a "M" or "W". The interior was relatively clean, albeit a bit dim. A wall of proposed graffiti inflicted confusion upon me, as the remainder of the lavatory was covered in deep mahogany.

Cocktails were avoided for the sake of driving, even though the suggestion definitely crossed my mind when we noticed the heavy pour taking place on the other side of the window.

​Taylors Landing was a phenomenal experience that was well-justified in terms of quality, atmosphere, and service. I had originally expected higher price points for prime sustenance coordinates, but the generous portion sizes and complexity of flavours brought about surprise in addition to an elevated amount of joy.
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​Interestingly enough, we were informed that Shops at Don Mills had a rotating umbrella system where customers could take umbrellas from given shops/eateries, utilize them during periods of high precipitation, and return elsewhere within the shopping area when convenient.

We braved the weather instead, and chose to swiftly hop from one retailer to the next with hoods and caps over our heads.
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Sticks of fur at Murale? Yes please, when I have an extra twelve dollars to drop. (Frankly, the thing is useless but quite cute.)
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​The outdoor retail centre featured a small square of saturation; aside from a dandelion-shaped fountain, the area was lined with synthetic grass and presumably genuine shrubbery of varying tones.
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​Breezy stops were made at Love Me Sweet (the specific items I had desired were inevitably surrendered to the family that had stepped in before us) and Gong Cha before it was time for me to rush back home.
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​Fam jams seldom take place outside of the West Coast. With that said, one can imagine the significance of such gatherings should they occur within the drive-able vicinity. It was imperative to be punctual, but the annoyingly long queue at Bake Code ultimately resulted in a thirty-minute delay. (You had two cashiers and two attendants but only ONE pair of hands functioning at 10 km/h?! Downright drollery.)

It was much appreciated that our reservation could be postponed by to allow for travel time and parking.
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We were guided to a rectangular table beside the patio entrance, which was rarely used during the chilly evening hours. Illumination was little to none: several yellow-orange tinted light fixtures hung about the aisle space (not directly above our heads) and a weak, wavering candle were the sole resources for visibility.

It hadn't taken much effort to review the sticky one-sided menu easily before sundown, but as the sky dimmed to a boundless bistered blue, we relied on smartphone flashlights to examine the items placed before us.
A table that was seated approximately an hour or two after us depended strictly on the flashlight in order to read the menu.

Washrooms utilized the typical mass-produced pink soap, which seriously stripped hands of hydration. Facilities were maintained within the minimum degree.
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​The Seafood Trio and Blue Crab Cakes were requested to start the meal, along with bottles of sparkling spring water. Our server warned us of the size of the appetizers, noting that they would be insufficient to feed the entire group. Re-examining the prices, as they are generally reflective of a dish's portion, and the usual capacity of our appetites, we dismissed this word of advice.

Contrary to the image we had initially conjured, both plates were ridiculously small, containing the bare minimum quantity specified by its menu description. A second Seafood Trio was ordered to compensate. It made me wonder how mortals with extravagant stomach spaces would order at the establishment.
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​The Seafood Trio comprised of three components, all plated in a messy manner and complete with unwiped sauce streaks. The seared Ahi tuna was decent, but the use of wasabi was outright questionable - Was it to give the illusion of freshness? I had thought. A seasoned wakame salad could be found underneath the sesame-coated strips boasting traditional (read: safe) flavours of soy.
Adjacent to the tuna was solid slice of crostini with whipped cream cheese, smoked salmon, and pickled onions (in place of capers?). The dish was rather standard and utilized the same base as the complimentary bread basket.
I did not try the prawn cocktail and thus cannot comment.
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A duo of Blue Crab Cakes were served with lemon wedges and a vegetable donning the appearance of red cabbage. Its fleshy interior was made interesting with crunchy bits of celery. The coconut curry pairing was only subtly aromatic, with only a thin, watery layer spread across the plate.
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< Pictured above and below: Seafood Trio, Blue Crab Cakes, BBQ Ribs, Black Tiger Shrimp, Pecan Encrusted Salmon, and Seafood Ravioli >

Entrees arrived within fifteen to twenty minutes of appetizers being cleared away. All of them, with the exception of pasta, were presented in a similar fashion: with a haphazardly ladled strip of thickened coconut curry sauce and long grain white rice with lentils or plain roasted potatoes. Yellow baby potatoes were wrinkly and cooked to just pierce-able consistency; its soft and warm interior made it the more superior choice to rice.
The entrees also included an incredibly depressing slice of sweet potato with a confused profile of saltiness and abominable toughness. Steak knives not present either. I attempted to saw through the poorly prepared root vegetable with little luck, almost elbowing my neighbour for the sake of obtaining a bite of the dark orange matter. Steamed vegetables were average at best, though it would require incredible skill to damage a standard side element.
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​Seafood Ravioli initially garnered visual appeal for its striped presentation, eventually forfeiting the high grade to excessively firm dough. Given that it was only slightly softer than al dente, the pasta failed to align with my preferences for cooking time.
Impossibly rich cream sauce and a teaspoon of Parmasan topped off the concoction, much to my dismay.
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​Emphasis for the Pecan Encrusted Salmon was presumably placed on the pecans pressed onto the surface of the fish. This did not seem to coincide with the chef's vision nor preparation methods, as the pecans hadn't been toasted, caramelized, nor cooked alongside the salmon at all. This, along with the distinct lack of a crispy surface, brought about immense disappointment,  On a more positive note, the 8 ounce fillet was lightly seasoned and cooked to flaky suppleness. Jake's still has the upper hand, though. Snug Harbour's rendition played it safe by steaming first to prevent undercooking and ensure tenderness, abstaining from any additional procedures to heighten its natural qualities.
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​< Pictured above and below: Americano, Regular Coffee, Chocolate Mousse Cake, and Italian Tartufo >

I failed to perceive the advertised Kahlua in the Chocolate Mousse Cake, but admitted to its rich, decadent Swiss chocolate body. However, the dessert could have easily done without the needlessly thick, rigid crust; the bottom-most layer of compressed chocolate graham crackers could not be pierced even with several spoons pressed laterally at full force. This was an indication of over-chilling or an exorbitance of butter/lard in the mixture.
Overall, the cake lacked balance in composition proportions and wasn't as airy as typicala mousse formations. Moreoever, the evident use of heavy cream was a tad off-putting. The final product bore a stronger resemblance to cheesecake than mousse, which was still delicious but in dire need of tweaking.​
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​As specified on the menu, the restaurant carried a rotating selection for the spherical sweet plate. The day's flavour for Italian Tartufo was Raspberry Sorbet with a Chocolate Exterior.
The circular specimen was portioned into slices roughly 1 centimetre in thickness, which gained share-ability but dropped its aesthetic value. The smaller pieces were also more susceptible to melting, later filling the plate with a Chapman's like puddle of sugar-laden, full-fat milk. Although it is uncertain whether cream had indeed been swapped for the more economic variety of dairy, it can be deduced that the outer chocolate layer wasn't nearly as satisfying as the Chocolate Mousse Cake. The raspberry sorbet core was refreshing, albeit a tad high in terms of added sugar.
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​The desserts were decorated similarly: squirts of whipped cream, a single orange slice (which likely doubles as a cocktail garnish) served with underlying fruity sauces on angular white ceramic plates.
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​I departed in high spirits, but in a state of satiation without satisfaction. Snug Harbour provided a great social environment with an overabundance of "good ambience", making for a great gathering spot in the summertime. In all other aspects though, the establishment caused utter disappointment, from the agonizing plating techniques to the sheer absence of ingredient diversity. Service was quick and pleasant for the most part, although not particularly genuine. While a private parking lot is difficult to chance upon in Port Credit, I would likely take my business elsewhere for better food at more fitting prices. The lakefront view can wait till after supper.

Taylor's Landing Menu, Reviews, Photos, Location and Info - Zomato

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    Formerly an avid owner of several interest-based portals, Random Thoughts of a Quirky Blogger presents precisely the elements expected. From experiments in the kitchen to miscellaneous musings, from IGOT7 reflections to developments in transportation infrastructure, it's all consolidated here. Welcome to the raw, unfiltered side of Quirky Aesthetics.



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WHAT DOES "QUIRKY AESTHETICS" MEAN?

Quirky =  a term that commonly refers to something/someone distinctly different and unique
Aesthetics = the visual aspect of things



Together, Quirky Aesthetics refers to the things, events, and happenings seen and perceived by this blog's creator - quirky perspectives in a visual form.

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