Out & About #677 | Week #36 Quarantine Update Feat. Cheddar Bay Biscuits

Ah, Cheddar Bay Biscuits. What are they?
To some, the palm-sized mounds may constitute no more than a pre-seafood appetizer. Others may view the biscuits as a quintessential element of the Red Lobster dining experience. And personally, these warm, cheesy biscuits are symbols of nostalgia, reflective of the countless times my family had gathered at the restaurant for weekly dinners during my childhood. (Not all of these meals took place at the Florida-based franchise mind you.)

The formula has undoubtedly evolved over the years, growing paler, drier, and less cheesy as I eased my way into adulthood. Nonetheless, the starter warrants recognition. Since the start of COVID, I have craved nothing from the menu except the comfort of the Cheddar Bay Biscuit.

I did a double-take upon seeing the title of the latest But Better episode, where my childhood favourite had not only undergone a facelift, but was proved to be re-creatable from the convenience of my own abode - no delivery fees or entrée orders required. Components of the recipe were already prevalent in my cupboard (besides buttermilk, but it was an easy fix), thus I set to work the next day.

The results were phenomenal and quite a few degrees more delectable than I had pictured for a first attempt. Admittedly, I had rolled my dough too thin, yielding smaller biscuits that browned faster. However, they were perfect in all other aspects. From the sheer whiff of cheesiness to the crisp, golden exterior to the plush, moist centre, they are indeed Cheddar Bay Biscuits, But Better. <i> Gone was the crumbly dryness and baking soda aftertaste of the original, and in its place an addicting savoury delight.

​My second and last creation of the week was Roasted Cherry Tomatoes - coated with olive oil, sea salt, and parsley flakes and baked until blistered.

​What ensued was a mad mess of work happenings, a tone broken only by an appointment to the foot doctor (who revealed an equal desire to resume concert-going!), 2-minute mail run, and post-deskwork blogilates.

​In the midst of my first 10-hour shift of many, a sanity break was reluctantly taken for the acquistion of CoCo. Under the excuse of Bubble Gaga being discounted for a limited time, I stepped outside for a breath of fresh air. The evening was made better without a lineup and the option of swapping out tapioca for an alternative topping - a privilege ruled out by all other locations of the bubble tea shop.

​For the week's takeout ventures, I resorted to Pho Queen City strictly in consideration of their UberEats Pickup option. Truthfully, I would have gladly taken to Kamen (new Kenzo) or my birthday buddy's recommendation of I Love Pho given their proximities. Alas, the decision lay with the food delivery app's imposed restrictions.

< Pictured above and below: No. 85 Mi Vit Tien (Duck Noodle Soup with Egg Noodles), No. 11 Pho Dac Biet House Special, No. 116 Ca Phe Sua Da (Vietnamese Coffee with Condensed Milk and Ice) >

Having visited once prior, I was aware of the casual eatery's coordinates. That said, I hadn't realized the terrible annoyance that was to enter the plaza's parking area while traversing southbound on Hurontario.
Once parked, I entered the establishment to state my purpose. In response was downright disdain and boorish attitude: "Wait there." I was told, before the girl whipped away.
​
Three tables were occupied during peak lunch hour; it was a surprisingly high number given the restrictions of the red zone. Soon, my order was positioned onto the countertop, with my Ca Phe Sua Da sticky at the rim. I bobbed back to the parking lot, contemplating the safest method of transporting the lofty takeout tower home.

​The meal was not memorable whatsoever. For a portion priced at $14.50, I hadn't expected to unveil a container barely filled to the halfway mark. The Mi Vit Tien was easily the most horrendous fast dining purchase I have ever had the stupidity to request. As depressing as could be, the egg noodles were limp as opposed to springy, featuring the texture of damp memory foam. Atop the tangle was a single duck leg bearing the profile of overcooked stewing meat, its collagen-filled knuckle purposely hacked off and roasted dry. The broth was questionably dark and viscous with a thick layer of fat. The only passable element was the single bulb of bok choy.

​A typical pho broth for utilized for the Pho Dac Biet House Special, along with the standard flat rice noodles. Raw bean sprouts, a lime wedge, and a handful of herbs had been placed atop the noodles, in addition to a slice of raw meat wrapped in plastic wrap. Toppings had claimed to include "rare tenderloin, beef balls, flank, trip, and tendon", whose presence(s) could perhaps be counted on all of one hand. Once again, the dish was far from being impactful, save the peculiar bits of translucency in the beef balls.

Furthering the repulsive experience was the sickeningly sweet Ca Phe Sua Da. Known for its potency and luscious flavour, this rendition of Vietnamese Iced Coffee fell short of whatever expectations had remained following sampling of the mains.

To be frank, pho has never been my first choice. Nor has it been my second, third, or even fourth. Hai Phong had prompted me to explore the local scene, though I must declare the verdict to be unchanged.

Ruffled feathers were eased with a refreshing can of Swing Bridge Blonde Ale from Manitoulin Brewing Co.

The year has been brimming with unexpected occurrences, inclusive of mercury levels of rising above 15 C on the same day that Pillsbury Christmas Cookies were witnessed lining the shelves.

​Following a morning of errands, I committed to rewarding the week's work (and potentially easing sleeptime anxiety) with Sikgaek. The patio was, regrettably, no longer in operation. Consequentially came the reconfiguration of my trunk as a makeshift eating space.

​The spread comprised of our regulars: Cheese GyeRanMale, Half Yangyum + Half Padak Combo, Kimchi BokEumBap. While the Kimchi Fried Rice was less spectacular than previous runs by way of greater greasiness, fewer fragments of kimchi, and a fully cooked fried egg, the Padak surprised with its distinctly crunchy shell and supple flesh. The cheese omelet roll was, of course, phenomenal.

I then suggested a dessert run at BNC, otherwise known as Tokyo Cheesecake Cafe.

The family-owned establishment has proved resilient throughout the pandemic and has even expanded their bakery selection with Dacquoise, "Suicide" Hot Dogs, and holiday-themed Ginger Cookies.
During this visit, we took to a steeply-priced pouch of Pistachio Cookies ($6.99 per bag!), Injeolmi Shaved Ice, Injeolmi Tiramisu, and a Dalgona Scone.

Oh, and a frothy Cappuccino to neutralize the sugar intake.

​I was eager to dig into the Injeolmi Tiramisu immediately, though found the texture of the cake too rigid for enjoyment. It was nearly cheesecake-like, despite its fluffy appearance. I resorted to delaying its consumption in hopes of an airier texture, and was rewarded come suppertime. Smooth, creamy, nutty, and with the adequate amount of moisture, the cake was simply divine once "defrosted". I also appreciated that the surface dusting of injeolmi powder had been compressed such that particles did not vanish in the wind during its initial taste test outdoors.

Familiarized with the Dalgona Scone via Sunday Baking, the item had piqued my curiosity instantly at first glance. And despite not being entirely committed to dalgona lattes, the concept of combining this sweet streetfood with the likes of tea-ready scones was intriguing.

Ingested in conjunction with a dark roast blend as part of  ̶b̶r̶e̶a̶k̶f̶a̶s̶t̶ brunch, the caramelized topping was just a tad sugary for breakfast. On the other hand, the scone was absolutely scrumptious! Revisited at a later point in the day, it was discovered that the hardened dalgona topping wasn't as slick as originally believed to be; a bitter aftertaste indicated an excess of unreacted baking soda.

​The Pistachio Cookies exuded the exquisite aroma of butter, then presented a tender crumb with generous bits of finely chopped pistachio. Each slice-and-bake medallion possessed a subtle crunch and light dryness evident in the snowfall of bite crumbs.

​Our bill totalled a whopping thirty-six dollars - the equivalent of one produce-centric grocery bill. In my defense, the goods were of excellent quality, and consistently so.

​​In past years, Light Up The Square had marked the commencement of festive winter activities, most notably the illumination of Celebration Square's own Christmas tree. This year's edition had shifted to being exclusively virtual, though unfortunately not real time. Its method of presentation was rather tacky with the overuse of digital devices and social media inception, but nonetheless more favourable than the potential assimilation of residents at the event space.

The weekend was concluded with a fizzy, lightly spiced, and slightly zesty kobucha radler and the first snowfall of the season - and a rather damp on at that.

---