I owe many a restless night to our bipolar thermostat. Poor quality sleep has, unfortunately, been a regular occurrence as of late, and Parasite flashbacks hitting me at two thirty in the morning was the last thing I wanted.
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Enter Monday with a vengeance for its too-short, two-day disappearance. I arrived at my desk to the marvelous sight of a Mocha from Pilot, along with a handful of snacks that a certain prehistoric had nabbed from the past weekend's Chinese New Year festivities.
The morning daze was gradually assuaged with the assistance of caffeine and sugar, and by lunchtime, I was ready for more exciting endeavours. Well, errands in disguise that later led to the discovery of an illegitimate Brown at UNIQLO. Despite its inauthenticity, the weighty figure brought joy nonetheless.
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The week then proceeded with more mid-day errand-running: fresh fruit to aid digestion and powdered effervescents to keep colds at bay.
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Having been denied of the drop-in zumba class last week, the arrival of Wednesday marked our redemption day.
The post-work plans commenced with tasty treats from Truscott Bakery, an Italian grocer within ten minutes of Clarkson (that I had, interestingly, never chanced across in all my years of commuting).
The post-work plans commenced with tasty treats from Truscott Bakery, an Italian grocer within ten minutes of Clarkson (that I had, interestingly, never chanced across in all my years of commuting).
Far larger than I had imagined, the bakery offered a variety of breads, imported packaged goods, and even a small seating area for in-store consumption. A Buy 6 for No Tax Mix & Match sticky note was pasted at the corner of the pastry section, however I made a beeline for my two items of interest and swiftly maneuvered over to the checkout. This resolution was, regrettably, bulldozed by a supposed sale on ladyfingers. Two packs for $2.49 seemed reasonable in the moment; it wasn't until afterwards that I discovered significantly more competitive prices.
Moral of the story: Think twice about checkout-side merchandise.
Moral of the story: Think twice about checkout-side merchandise.
Three sugar- and fat-packed confectioneries were unveiled at the conclusion of supper. The Tiramisu consisted of a total of six layers: a chocolate sponge cake base, two alternating sections of cream filling and ladyfingers, and a half-inch topping of whipped cream and roughly-dusted cocoa powder. Airy as it was, the cream components were rich without prominence of mascarpone, ultimately making for a satiating specimen of stunted satisfaction.
Reheated slightly in a toaster oven, crispiness was re-distributed along the edges of the Portuguese tart, while the centre remained a tad chilly. We had opted to split one amongst us, for the tart was greasy - obnoxiously so - and overbearingly sweet. Moreover, the custard had included a greater amount of cornstarch than required for coagulation. Seara definitely had the upper hand at this dessert.
Each of the Portuguese tarts had rang in at $1.99, while the thick slab of Tiramisu was a mere $2.99. The staggering difference in price points remained unjustified after sampling.
Each of the Portuguese tarts had rang in at $1.99, while the thick slab of Tiramisu was a mere $2.99. The staggering difference in price points remained unjustified after sampling.
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A successful Zumba run at Crunch took place shortly afterwards - on a free trial pass, of course. Comparing against previous classes at Zumba Ko and Goodlife, this session offered a brighter atmosphere with more varied steps. The instructor, Caroline, was enthusiastic with exceptional energy levels; admittedly more of an intermediate-level course, the footwork was tricky to adopt at first but gradually grew merry with time. In particular, I enjoyed that she did not enforce mandatory breaks (like Zumba Ko) and made genuine efforts to acknowledge new faces in class - namely us.
Changerooms weren't particularly pristine, though lockers were in abundance. Also unbeknownst to us was the availability of a pool in the facility.
Changerooms weren't particularly pristine, though lockers were in abundance. Also unbeknownst to us was the availability of a pool in the facility.
The next morning marked the opening of a three-day OREO pop-up at Union Station.
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A certain prehistoric creature and I took to braving the lineup during lunch hour, eventually emerging with two "exclusive flavours" after approximately ten minutes. And given Toronto's fondness for lineups, this wasn't half bad.
The faux tiling at the doorstep was a neat little finish to contrast the otherwise royal blue interior.
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Two doors down was Pilot, where we couldn't resist picking up caffeine to accompany the creme-containing chocolate wafer cookies.
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We conducted a brief visual analysis between the Thin and Mega Stuf, potentially OREO's tallest rendition to date, then swiftly scraped the hydrogenated oil-based filling into the disposal tray.
En route back via the PATH, a pack of Pistachio Thins were utilized to compensate the mediocre offerings of the pop-up.
Friday visuals involved more snacking (surprise, surprise) and several more rounds at the OREO Stuf Shoppe for the purpose of obtaining souvenirs.
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A dinner of baked salmon over kale served to nourish the body after a quartet of bloomer's donuts. The vegan bakery had infiltrated our local Mos Mos with a small selection of diabetes-inducing flavours, including Rose Pistachio, Raspberry, Elderberry Hibiscus, and Triple Chocolate.
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Round 3 of Oatmeal Cookies preceded my weekly Kindred Beginner class. This time, they've proved a tad blander (and taller) than preferred.
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It was, dare I say, every bit of happiness in every form of poor nutrition.
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