In response to progressively worsening pains in the wrist and fingers (that later began propagating from the tendons to large muscle groups), creations of the week were kept to an absolute minimum, with majority of the items of consumption outsourced.
I skipped over the microscopic section of tea towels and spooky garlands; secured instead was a thin, satin-y vampire cape fringed with fraying threads, aimed to incorporated into the following year's unpredicted festive ensemble.
During this visit, we learned about the franchise's removal of the Chicken Salad Sandwich, otherwise known as my coveted childhood favourite, from the menu. Additionally, it was concluded that altering the 1:1 ratio in the Mocha(s) did not necessarily yield better results.
Each of the container's contents assumed a similar - if not identical - layout of rice, enoki mushrooms, kimchi, and lightly buttered (oiled?) sweet corn kernels. The selected protein would then be laid on top of the plump, sauce-friendly grains and garnished with sesame seeds and scallions.
It was first time setting foot in the plaza, or at least the first time I recognized it as so. (There had, apparently, been a point in history where I had visited - a point of which I had no recollection.)
That is, until the streetlights turned on.