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Out & About #518 | Cafe Cancan + Koreatown Errand (attempts)

12/28/2018

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The very notion that a separate entity on this planet is capable of sharing similar interests with you is wonderful in itself. Being able to further identify with that interest to a likewise degree of dedication is just incredible. This realization first hit me whilst engaging in late-night spam sessions with a certain potato across the border about our shared affection for GOT7. The second was when I came across a written piece that I could not have agreed more about.

Even prior to our somewhat substantially-sized paintball gathering, stenoodie and I had been planning a catch-up session for some time now. Once the details had been ironed out, we set out for downtown - her heading from the east, and me heading from the west.
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​I was first to arrive at Cafe Cancan, where I learned that those without nimble fingers would have to resort to bar seating on a first-come-first-serve basis. The entirety of the seven tables available had been reserved in advance, likely via OpenTable.
Space was scarce inside the dainty-looking French bistro, so reservations were of great significance. I was made aware of this in an adequately friendly manner: it was evident that the restaurant looked towards serving patrons that understood the value of their dishes as opposed to garnering hype and lineups as a fad eatery.
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​Dining on high stools was not the issue for me, nor was the empty promise of a brunch menu. (Apparently, the brunch menus were rotated only on weekends.) Rather, it was the lack of space for my weighty backpack. Those that entered the premises donned posh getups, ranging from sleek over-the-knee boots to fitted knit dresses, so this was less of a problem for the majority of diners. As a commuter with many-a-task to complete, the bulky bag could not be eradicated.

A coat rack was positioned next to the bar area, while hooks had been installed underneath (as I later discovered). This definitely provided more room for movement, despite not being the most comfortable of arrangements.
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​Stenoodie joined me shortly after my arrival, at which point we evaluated the menu. Shortly afterwards, we were informed that a reservation had been cancelled, permitting a shift from the bar to a table. What luck!
I dove for the booth seat, as I could rest my backpack without bothering other patrons. Admittedly, the adjacent tables were seated quite closely, but not to an unbearable extent.

As a matter of fact, it was the music blaring overhead that proved bothersome. Over the course of the meal, it became increasingly difficult to converse in peace. Noise levels had surged in order to be heard over the escalating jazzy tunes.
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I requested a Mimosa to start, in spite of the absence of a brunch menu. Following our meticulous review of the available selections, we opted to share a 2-Course and 3-Course Prixe Fixe meal. The former enabled the user to choose any two dishes from the Hors D'Oeuvres, Entrées, and Dessert sections, while the latter one from each. In fine print was a more flexible - yet much extravagant - à la carte alternative for specific items.
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​The table setting comprised of a delicate centrepiece of dried yellow buds, utensil sets encased within stark white cloth napkins, and shiny blush glasses - very reminiscent of Planta's slightly taller cups but tinted dusty pink to match the decor of the cozy eatery. Other noteworthy details included: subtle leopard print tiling on the ceiling, fans operated via a pulley system (versus the typically concealed electric source), stout cylindrical lampshades, and bar stools whose back designs matched the cushions at the tables. Marble tabletops were witnessed at every dining surface. All design elements contributed a strong sense of cohesiveness, ensuring that classy, cultured vibes resonated throughout the space.

Of particular interest to me were the light fixtures, for I had not laid eyes on such a style in my previous eating endeavours. Moreover, I appreciated that the intensity of illumination could be adjusted (diffused) to suit both daytime and evening hour ambiances.
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View the full album HERE !
​The Mimosa arrived first - without a single garnish, if I may add. The glass had been filled below the commonly accepted line and the insides were a tad foggy, as if its contents had been swirled around several times before making its way to our table. At a mere ten dollars, it definitely wasn't the priciest cocktail I've seen in the city. That said, its profile was rather lacking; while refreshing, fizziness was scarce. Over the course of the meal, the denser Prosecco seemed to have settled to bottom third of the glass, resulting in sweet sips of orange juice followed by an astringent buzz. Uniformity would have been preferred.
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​Our appetizers arrived swiftly, with the Oysters trailing behind the French Onion Soup by a few short moments.
My dining partner had expressed initial doubts towards my suggestion of a starter soup, though was later more receptive to the idea after my elaborate explanation on the various degrees of variation amongst its constituents. Having tasted many-a-French-Onion-Soup in my lifetime, I concur that a skillfully executed bowl will succeed in impressing even the most dubious of tasters. Otherwise, have your glass of water ready.
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Noted as a combination of "brisket, sherry, gruyère", expectations were high. And the creation did not disappoint in the slightest. These three ingredients were the most prominent in the spoonfuls of briny goodness, but that is not to say that the countless other components contributing to the complex flavour should go neglected. The soup emerged a deep beige, clouded with oil droplets yet not foggy in the slightest. Sodium levels were appropriate, finely chopped scallions offered oomph, and exceptionally fine strands of beef brisket added texture. Carby bits within the soup had been submerged till soft, but not soggy. The addition of sherry had elevated its profile to fascinating new heights. Most intriguing were the crouton-like crisps at the depths of the bowl, which had somehow managed to retain its crunch with time.

​​To retell the experience with precision is an unmistakable struggle, so my only suggestion is to try this delicacy and adopt your own story.
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​Six tiny oysters were served over ice in a Stainless steel tray, alongside horseradish, cocktail sauce, and a housemade apple jalapeno mignonette. Given that this was my first encounter with shellfish since the conclusion of my East Coast adventures, I remained optimistic at the selection. The species originated from New Brunswick, or so we were informed. Small in stature, they were relatively free of fishy odours and positively satisfying when consumed in conjunction with the tangy apple jalapeno mignonette. However, it should be noted that some pieces were leaner than others.

A fresh set of utensils were placed before us just prior to the entry of the entrées.
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​Steak Frites comprised ridiculously crisp fries (with the skin on!) and medium-rare slices submerged in sauce au poivre (aka peppercorn sauce). Instead of ketchup, Cancan had opted to include a creamy dip to pair with the fries.
Its presentation was inviting, though simultaneously questionable. Odd it seemed that steak was brought to the table sliced instead of whole; in addition, peppercorn sauce is commonly seen in a pitcher for guests to include at their desired level. I, for one, am far from being a heavy meat-eater. A single piece of the chewy beef was enough for me. The fries, on the other hand, were easily my new restaurant fave. (McD's is my go-to fast casual spot.)

Parisian Gnocchi was more enjoyable than I would have imagined. Spongy instead of starchy and bold instead of boring, stenoodie did not hesitate to exclaim its comparable qualities to her feasts in Italy. Both of us were equally bewildered at the restaurant's unexpected incorporation of roasted butternut squash and chestnut. Crisp crouton dust was another twist we appreciated.
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​Dessert time fell upon us about 90 minutes into our leisurely meal. The Opera Cake I had anticipated with great zeal turned out nothing more than a wispy slice of layered sponge with a runny espresso custard thrown on top. Its appearance bore no resemblance to the standard opera cake, in spite of its multiple layers being present. Although aromatic, the microscopic dessert failed to leave any lasting impressions. (One also ought to add that an equally small Crème Caramel had been brought to our table before the order was remediated.)
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​Only two members of waitstaff tended to the floor during our stay. The seemingly more experienced of the two tended not only to diners, but took on responsibilities of the barista, hostess, and online reservation manager as well. Her expressions were more or less indifferent regardless of the situation; a professional manner (with an illegitimate smile) was maintained. The supposedly younger of the two was enthusiastic and more than willing to provide additional details on our meals whenever we inquired.
Both were perceptive of customer needs, especially in between courses when plates were to be swapped and accidents were to be cleaned.

​Single, gender-separated stalls were found at the bottom of a rickety flight of wooden stairs. The interior was bright, well-stocked, and decorated minimally with floral decals on the toilet paper and paper towel dispensers. First impressions of the bathroom were spotless, but this observation deteriorated as the wastebins overflowed into the mid-afternoon hours. Also be mindful that the washroom and stairwell ceilings are low.
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​All in all, Cafe Cancan had been a superb decision that has since paved the desire to revisit for a weekend brunch. Lavish as it was, the ordeal had been justified with utmost quality. Of course, next time I'll be employing my concert ticket-nabbing aptitudes to secure a reservation.
​The rest of the day was spent trekking to Koreatown, where I had hoped to find Put A Cone On It's widespread door and luminous interior greeting me. Yet, I returned once again to discover more dismal news: the gelato/cafe hybrid would be closed until mid-January.
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Sighing, I picked up my feet to indulge in other snacks in the neighbourhood. A Passion Fruit Green Tea was obtained from Yi Fang's new Annex location.
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Custard and Red Bean bungeoppang were then purchased from Kevin's Taiyaki, then hoddeok inventory replenished at Hodo Kwaja.
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​Carby snacks in tow, I embarked on the tedious commute home via local transit, arriving just in time for dinner.

Cafe Cancan 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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