Out & About #437 | Richmond Hill Errands + Ku-Kum Kitchen

​I ought to be thankful for GO Transit's extension of the 47J to route 40. Traversing the direct route to Richmond Hill requires about fifty minutes at this point in time, with busses operating hourly on weekends and holidays. Though the lack of frequent service is sometimes frustrating, I anticipate rapid developments in public transit over the next few years.

We commenced the day with a few errands, stopping by Hillcrest first then the Ho-View Plaza (好景商場) on Hwy 7.

​I had initially contemplated a Thai Iced Tea from Bake Code, though quickly countered the thought with a longing for Hong Kong Milk Tea. Their Easter-limited pastries were rather fun to gaze upon though.

Stops at Lucullus and ZenQ were then executed, with my beverage of desire secured at the first destination.

Purchasing a Tofu Pudding for late-afternoon snacking was my suggestion. Interestingly enough, the proportion of tofu to toppings drastically diminished with the addition of both grass jelly and red bean. It was tasty nonetheless, but increasingly challenging to consume (via wide straw) given the non-uniform distribution of ingredients.

​Akane Sushi, which my favourite fangirl had recommended to me some eons ago, had been closed when I suggested it for supper following Wonderland. I pitched the idea this time around, seeing as the void had yet to be filled from several months prior.

The Korean-ran restaurant was rather tiny, and seemed to focus primarily on takeout orders. Nearly all of their twelve-or-so tables were occupied at our time of arrival, but merely one middle-aged lady and two visible members of kitchen staff were tending to making orders and tending to the floor.

Extremely bitter in both demeanour and attitude, it took us two to three attempts to grab the attention of the ahjumma, despite rooting ourselves right before the cashier area. Whether it be a result of the chaotic atmosphere or simply an everyday occurence, I couldn't help but depart feeling rushed, belittled, and unappreciated as a customer.

Two Lunch Specials had been selected: L5 Sushi Box and L12 Unagi Don Box; the bentos were priced at $9.99 and $12.99 respectively.

​Within each sectioned Styrofoam container were six maki rolls, two pieces of soggy tofu drizzled in teriyaki sauce, and choppy strips of japchae. Neither the California Roll nor Spicy Salmon Rolls exhibited sufficient cohesive properties: while the California Roll was acceptable, the Spicy Salmon was oddly warm and crumbly. Also not to be overlooked was the unexpectedly high rice to filling ratio.
Glass noodle strands were swollen - a sign of being overcooked - and lacked the rigidity needed to maintain its length. The fine pieces were difficult to pick up with chopsticks, but, moreover, devoid of the sesame oil and sesame seeds observed in other establishments' renditions; not to mention: the only other component were julienne carrots and almost indiscernible strips of zucchini.

​Numerous packets of soy sauce had been included in the order, along with pickled yellow ginger and wasabi. Both of these condiments were of poor quality: the ginger was ridiculously spicy as opposed to being sweet, while the wasabi was incapable of delivering a nasal-clearing punch.
The assorted nigiri from L5 was disappointing beyond belief. Not only were the slices far from fresh, they were essentially inedible without the heavy dunking of wasabi-laden soy sauce. L12's measly bits of sticky, bony unagi was even more depressing given its price tag. While even T&T serves up plump strips of marinated cooked eel in entirety, Akane had taken the cheapest route possible with crummy bits of limp protein.

​​Might I also add that neither order came with miso soup, side salad, or banchan. Napkins were scarce, if any, and no more than two pairs of disposable chopsticks had been included. Disposable spoons were not to be found either

The verdict was clear as day: Akane was quite possibly the worst sushi takeout experience to date.

​I generally retain a certain degree of skepticism when an establishment's offerings fall within the culinary category of "Canadian cuisine", as this is synonymous with unexpected outcomes, positive or not. Majority of the time, I shall remain open-minded, though hesitant at the same time. When seal meat was brought up as one of the items of interest by my dining partner, I was flabbergasted, yet not reluctant to delve into this unexplored realm.

​A table had been reserved a week prior at Ku-Kum Kitchen (also typeset as Kūkŭm Kitchen), for their opening hours were awfully particular and dinner collections were exempted from Sundays.
The location itself wasn't the convenient of places, especially as members of suburbia. Moreover, its proximity to the Yonge and Eglinton intersection and its ongoing Crosstown construction meant migraines for drivers and commuters alike. On a more positive note, there was ample free parking in the nearby residential region during off-peak hours, and meter parking along Mount Pleasant Road should one wish to refrain from trekking back to one's vehicle solo after sundown.

​I had viewed the exterior of the restaurant multiple times before while scouring online reviews, but hadn't actually set eyes on the interior until we had personally strode through the double glass doors. Dimly lit with a boxy, almost rectangular seating area, the insides were compact and cozy (without posing any concerns for the claustrophic bunch). The ambience was sophisticated albeit soothing: Soft mellow instrumentals played in the background, while tabletop candles contributed a hazy, moody glow.

​A denim chambray-clad server was left accountable for maintain harmony amongst evening diners. This was quite reasonable, in my opinion, considering that tables were few to begin with and most diners were deeply invested in their own conversations.

< Pictured above and below: Elk, Labrador Tea and Wild Mint Rillettes, Elk Loin, Baby Carrots, Beets, Peas and Jerusalem Artichoke Veloute, Caribou, Duchess Potato, Squash, Foraged Mushrooms, with a Braised Onion Purée >
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We were quick to request recommendations prior to discussing potential orders, which the server was more than happy to provide. Narrowing down our picks from the exotic selection wasn't difficult, since the complete online list had been perused in advance, though it did take him a short while to come over and note down our choices.

​The most popular appetizer, as noted by Yelpers, was the Arctic Trio. In fear that raw seal may prove to taste too irony, we voted in favour of the Elk, Labrador Tea and Wild Mint Rillettes.
Also consisting of three components, the starter was of a substantial size but very meat-heavy (read: easily satiating for those unaccustomed to a high meat intake).

View the full album HERE !

​5 Game and Cranberry Terrine was a diagonally-sliced square slab akin to a softer version of SPAM that featured the inclusion of dried cranberries and large chunks of low-sodium lap cheong. The consistently wasn't exactly spreadable, but rather intended to be consumed on its own to fully embrace its individual components. Amongst the five species that were named off to me, I could not remember the details, nor was I able to distinguish the varying textures within the terrine during consumption.
Personally speaking, this element was the least attractive out of the trio. However, it attained the top spot for my partner-in-crime who had suggested the destination.

​Rabbit Liver Mousse was, hands down, my favourite. Its strong resemblance to pâté, in combination with its surprisingly airy texture, made for a great pairing with the soft segments of bannock bread provided. Chives - or what I presumed to be chives - added a subtle aromatic dose to the blend without being overpowering.

The stout cylinder of elk and other meats was presented with a few sprigs of partially withered mint leaves. (Oddly enough, any dish that utilized mint as a topping and/or garnish employed softened and slightly withered variations as opposed to the vibrant fresh ones.) My dining partner claimed the trifle to taste like a specific brand of beef jerky, whereas I found the texture to lean more towards a braised then re-shaped circular mound of lean protein. Chewy as it was, the dryness of the dish, as well as its colossal internal heat content had me setting my fork down after a few timid scrapes.

​Perhaps it was due to the fact that I was famished, but it felt as if a century had passed before the server returned to the table. In reality, it turns out that he was observing our dining progress from afar, and immediately strode over to swap our plates and utensils in preparation for the arrival of entrées. 

​Both mains arrived in unison.
Elk Loin adopted the form of filet mignon-esque mounds and was topped with edible flowers. Served alongside were sweet, crunchy snow peas, roasted beets, and baby carrots. All components sat afloat a semi-viscous, savoury sauce with a prominent strip of creamy veloute.

​Leaving the strongest impression were the roasted vegetables: the golden and red beets stole the show, even earning the approval of the beet-disliking individual across the table. They had been roasted to perfection with charred edges but utmost moistness within. The baby carrots and turnip wedge bore identical profiles, leading my eyes to widen in awe at the possibility of roasting vegetables to such an enjoyable degree.

​The elk had claimed to be cooked to medium rare/medium. In spite of its outward appearance being representative of this declaration, its texture was not quite as spectacular. Tough to slice and dry to taste, we deemed this the less formidable of the two mains.

​Accompanying the caribou were strips of buttery mushrooms, roasted squash, tiny rounds of turnip, and two irregular discs known as duchess potatoes. The caribou was, in fact, a soft, succulent patty that involved a highly extensive crafting procedure. First braised with seasonings and then shredded and blended with onions, celery, and other components, the result was bold and flavourful. Sufficient fat content resided within, such that each forkful was smooth but devoid of greasy aftereffects.

The braised onion purée was an understated addition: its presence was far from prominent, though this may have been owed to a strong sense of cohesion to the caribou.
The side of duchess potatoes was the only regrettable aspect of the dish. Gritty and dense, I couldn't help but recoil in shock at the initial bite. "Cold fries" was the descriptive term we agreed on.

​Throughout the meal, the server followed up with us several times. At one point, I confessed my thoughts regarding the elk loin, noting that its profile veered towards "well done" as opposed to "medium rare/medium". He nodded to this and mentioned that he would communicate the opinion to the chef.

Complimentary Cedar Tea was provided to use as dessert options were depicted. The steaming cups were unlike any other blend I've ever tried. Fragrance-wise, it emitted the very essence of strolling through an empty forest on a crisp, fall morning. Even at an arm's length away, the captivating aromas radiated and slowly drew me in.
Its profile was peculiar: the top notes resembled herbal, its base oolong-like, and the lingering impressions green. To find a tea that is both invigorating and comforting is far and few between. The beverage paired exceptionally with desserts, though I wish we had ordered it earlier in the evening to compensate for the surge in internal heat.

The winter-spring transitional season had eliminated Poached Pears with Plum Ice Cream and Apple with Licorice Sugar, Puff Pastry and Lavender Ice Cream from the dessert selection. Instead, our options were Pine Needle and Citrus Sorbet and Lavender and Chocolate Mousse. Out of curiosity, we took to choosing both.

​Pine Needle and Citrus Sorbet was beyond the icy slush I had been anticipating. Garnished with a generous dusting of rose sugar, the fluffy, citrusy properties of the dessert was only further elevated. As opposed to the bland, fast-melting granita-like specimen I was used to witnessing, the sorbet was zingy, tangy, and highly resilient against dissolution. The addition of dehydrated frozen berries was another astonishing aspect; they combined the chilly juiciness of freeze-dried berries with the crunchy impact from slow drying.

​In regards to the Lavender and Chocolate Mousse, I hadn't set the bar very high, mostly because of previous munching experiences. The presentation of the item was phenomenal to start: fresh berries, edible gold, and chocolate roll-ups added modest pizzazz. Diving into the glass's contents, my spoon emerged coated in a silky ganache. The mousse had not set completely, and was more reflective of a partially solidified chocolatey concoction. Rich, velvety dark chocolate coated each spoonful - the product was extremely potent, extremely indulgent, and extremely dangerous. The fresh berries were a nice touch as well. On the other hand, neither of us perceived much of the lavender infusion.

​It was noticed that, over the course of the meal, our server became progressively more inclined to visit our table. The friendliness factor was amplified, and he began to reveal his enthusiasm towards the restaurant in which we were leisurely enjoying our stay. Ku-kum, as we were told, translates to "grandmother" in the indigenous language. We learned that the chef, Joseph, had been inspired by his grandmother to commence cooking, hence making the restaurant's name "Grandmother's Kitchen". Even the decorative cloths on the table told a story: they were crafted by indigenous women in Saskatoon. The suede/leather bill carriers were also handmade individually, meaning that not a single one was identical to the other.

​Washroom stalls were located at the bottom of a flight of stairs, separated by gender. The appearance of the stalls was dismal at first, but facilities were updated and a refreshing citrus scent filled the vicinity. Most importantly, the area was pristine and well-stocked of toiletries.

​All in all, I hadn't expected to enjoy Ku-Kum as much I did. I had waltzed in with dubious prospects but gradually grew to find fondness in the temperate atmosphere and exotic dishes. As one that rarely incorporates much meat in their diet, the offerings were a tad too strong in terms of internal heat for my liking. Nonetheless, I found each and every one of their menu items to be unique and worthy of discussion. Looking back, the visit was well justified for the inclusive experience and ruminative thoughts behind the menu.

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