Out & About #596 | Weekly Roundup: Call My Name Preview + Fishy Features

11/9/2019

I've been debating reverting to numbered recaps for simplicity's sake.
That said, I won't deny that, now that winter has officially arrived, hibernation tendencies are in full effect. (This can also be interpreted as the sheer desire to snuggle beneath fuzzy covers, embracing its coziness in lieu executing acts of productivity.)

One of my biggest gripes from last winter was the blatant absence of blue skies. Dreary greyness, blurred lines of day and night, and slick, desaturated streets - these were uncommon sights to central and east Canada. I pray that the same fate does not fall upon on us this time around.

Following the announcement of oncoming slush, I embarked on a frigid walk along the waterfront.
Peculiar it was that, while the trees remained in full fall swing, the air spoke in a frost-laced tone. Mother Nature is clearly conflicted.

I also happened to catch IMPULSE's on its final week of operation. Sans illumination and sans seesaw partner, it was quite mundane of an experience.

The holiday season welcomes more than just precipitation, however. Chasing the sugar rush that was Halloween are the vast assortment of indulgent treats resulting from countless end-of-year gatherings.

Hershey's was quick to hop on the holiday bandwagon, introducing a bakery/café pop-up inside Scotia Plaza.

Along with timeless Kisses and decadent brownies in the display case, the limited-timed installation featured "mixed-to-order" cookies.
The concept was simple: Customers chose their pick of cookie dough (Original or Peanut Butter), and then picked three toppings from the bar. Employees operated in a four-member assembly line, each adopting roles such as the Form Filler, Topping Scooper, Mixer and Moulder, and Baker. Cookie dough scoops were placed onto parchment paper for shaping, then baked for about three minutes - just until the chocolate began to become gooey.

It wasn't entirely customizable, for surface designs could not be requested. That said, there's nothing quite like a warm cookie from the oven to cheer up one's day.

For allergy sensitivites, heed the precaution of cross-contamination of peanut-containing tools.

A cake vending machine by the name of Carlo's Bake Shop was spotted in the food court at an early point of the week. Within it were stored four varieties of cake: Red Velvet, Carrot Cake, Double Chocolate, and Rainbow.

Having passed by the contraption at the early hour of 8 AM, I made a mental note to revisit for afternoon snack.
Alas, within two hours, the row of Rainbow Cakes had disappeared; disappointed but not shocked, I observed the crowds to deduce the second bestseller of the array.

Carrot Cake was the safe second choice. A style not nearly as widespread as the others, it was interesting that it was next to disappear from the rack.
I tapped away ten dollars ($8.99 + tax) and grabbed a fork from the machine-bound dispenser.

Unfortunately, the slice was far thinner than they appeared. Height-wise, it was still consistent with four layers of walnut-embedded pound cake, with cream cheese frosting smothered between. The cake itself was quite crumbly, indicating either an insufficient amount of sugar syrup between the layers, or its evaporation over the transport period.

Proving to be moistest was the bottom-most layer, unsurprisingly. I primarily picked away at this between forkfuls of satiating cream cheese frosting. The two elements existed in great harmony, however its presentation and price was not notably far from the likes of Symposium, service charge-exclusive. The slice was ultimately deemed unworthy of its associated price tag; the sole variety to be potentially justified would be the Rainbow Cake, considering the colour spectrum and inclusion of an additional layer of sponge in its composition, thus a greater degree of production complexity.

Gearing up for a comeback means hitting the sack early. Daylight Savings made the 4 AM wake-up call a teensy bit easier.

Call My Name is a six-song EP with the fan-inspired title track. You Calling My Name/니가 부르는 나의 이름 was based off the idea of fanchants, and the emotions experienced by the group upon hearing their names being called out at each live performance. BamBam, in particular, noted that being able to hear (and see) the support of ahgases on an international level was incredible - an undertaking that not many have the honour of taking pride in.

There is not a single skip-worthy song on the album, but personal favourite(s) hover between peppy THURSDAY, empowering Now or Never, and, of course, the undeniably alluring You Calling My Name. (I'd be lying if I said I wasn't clenching onto my blankets for dear life at the sight of the leather-donning septet.)
Crash & Burn was initially the least favourite track, however the showcase performance was quick to amend that.

A separate entry shall be allocated for album review; this is merely a preview of what the future entails.

Pubs in the downtown core are ̶(̶a̶l̶m̶o̶s̶t̶ ̶a̶l̶w̶a̶y̶s̶)̶ guaranteed to lack in quality in exchange for convenience of location and widespread availability of mediocre selections. Needless to say, majority of such pubs maximize revenue through tips and alcohol - precisely a highly unoriginal expanse of it.

The Goodman Pub was our unfortunate destination for an office gathering. The restaurant had divided the large group into two long, narrow tables as opposed to a circular booth where all parties could converse at their leisure. Menus were a ratty, folded rectangle of stained lettering, adorned by unappealing names at atrociously lavish prices.

Foam-less pints of beer started the meal; they were delivered with utmost swiftness. Order placement and delivery, on the other hand, spanned an unacceptable forty minutes. By this time peak lunch hours had hit, and my freshly-washed hair was the victim of inevitable cooking fumes.

Majority of the group opted for burgers or fish n' chips, which, in hindsight, I ought to have followed. The Grilled Fish Tacos were positively abhorrent in every aspect, from the microscopic portion to the gag-worthy contents of each flimsy tortilla. It was as if someone had grilled the fillets to the point where all moisture been surrendered, removed the remaining edible bits, then shaved the edges to serve as garnish; underneath was a repulsive mass of oil-doused cabbage slaw mixed with spicy specks of pre-compiled seasoning that was far nastier than any Clubhouse or Kirkland base.

Further worsening the matter was outright rudeness of our server, a man who found it absolutely appropriate to take my order over two conversing members of the table, exhaled unbrushed-teeth-and-weed breath in my face, and took five minutes between each party member to settle the bill. What an abomination of an establishment. This P&K needs to PK; I'd offer negative tip if I could.

In an attempt to assuage my anger, I migrated from the group on a solo walk through Sobeys.

Note to self: Get a hold of these advent calendars once they go on sale.

Some days later, I secured a Fish-O-Filet from McDonald's, along with a container of Medium Fries courtesy of the Raptors' performance. The duo totalled a mere quarter of The Goodman's tab and provided indubitably more fish.

A second visit to Shandra's was met with a Mild Curry Chicken Roti and a side of Ginger Beer. The combo was, nonetheless, a tad spicy in my opinion, but nonetheless delicious. It's come to my attention that Roti are not made equally after all.

The Ginger Beer, labelled as an import product from Trinidad, was a tasty beverage to pair alongside any of their signature chicken dishes. My only complaint would be its astonishing sugar-to-ginger-flavouring ratio.

As with the previous visit, service was speedy and the single stall bathroom was clean. And, as soon as lunchtime hit, a lineup began to curl around the perimeter, with dining spots quickly filling to match the spike in traffic.

Ending the week was a positively stellar class at Kindred, where the instructor not only possessed party-ready pizzazz, but agile aptitudes as well. Her teaching experience was evident, and I was thankful for the repeated opportunities to practice.