Out & About #736 | Week #74 Quarantine Update Feat. Whole Wheat Loaf + Studio Bon

​A good work week starts with a Monday of minimal emails. Another aspect deserving appreciation is an unrushed opportunity for nutrition replenishing. Anxiety from the previous week's invoicing craze persisted, with its effects only augmented by the neverending list of other project tasks.

I craved heartiness, and I craved caffeine. The desires would lead to the creation of my first wheat loaf in aeons and consumption of Lavazza's renowned Italian espresso in a complimentary Balzac's mug.

1) Whole Wheat Loaf w/ Honey and Olive Oil

Given the arduous prepwork involved in Bake For Happy Kids' wheat bread recipes - and decidedly moist properties achieved thus far - I decided to venture beyond the tried-and-trusted. King Arthur offered a version that could be executed on a whim, using a breadmachine, and deploying olive oil and honey for extra swiftness.

The lack of expansion had me concerned initially, however the results were fabulous. Due to work commitments, the lengthier rising schedule was gladly welcomed. Baking at a higher temperature also eradicated unwanted moisture present in previously attempted wheat loaves.
Having yielded enough to fill two loaf pans, one had been portioned for slicing, while the other into pull-apart rolls. Both boasted impeccable texture when lightly toasted; margarine and honey made for a luscious, high-fibre breakfast, while homemade pecan butter could be smothered on for a boost of natural fats.

2) Green Tea Basque Cheesecake (Attempt)

The first green tea cheesecake ever to emerge from my kitchen and the second basque cheesecake ever to be crafted, I knew that the instigator could be no one else besides Sunday Baking.

I saw less success with this formula compared to the one in Van. Ingredients had not strayed from the recipe, yet its visuals drew furrowed brows. The edges exhibited a toasty tone, yet the surface was barely dark. I extended the baking time by an additional fifteen minutes, hoping to char the surface sufficiently. The resulting hue was only a tad darker.

​The cake was removed from the oven while still jiggly, let cool for several minutes, then transferred to the refrigerator to chill. A significant amount of shrinkage was witnessed, as intended, along with rustic cracks along the circumference.

Approximately two hours of chilling encouraged formation of a thin, sturdy crust on its surface. The interior remained slightly eggy, though cheesiness would grow more prominent with refrigeration time. The final product was fabulous, and just as delicious as any of Sunday's other delicacies. That said, it still wasn't quite indicative of a proper basque cheesecake. An inconsistent oven temperature may just be the culprit behind my woes, however further investigation is required. All may be resolved with a higher heat setting and/or adjusted rack positioning.

Arriving in my inbox early in the week was notification of a certain beagle's upcoming birthday. August 10th marked a day of festivities for Snoopy, and Hallmark had been keen to release an exclusive Peanuts collection in celebration. Prior to another grueling, mid-week meeting series, I snuck out to pay him a visit.

The black-and-white character graced not only his dedicated capsule collection, but select Halloween and graduation-related items as well.

I couldn't resist the fuzziness of the throw blanket and swooped one up immediately. An umbrella bearing various Snoopy, Woodstock, and Charlie Brown designs was also procured - a reasonable purchase given the admirable design quality and my lack of rain protection gear capable of accommodating more than one person.

Conveniently nearby was Teriyaki, the crowned franchise of yakisoba. A Build-Your-Own Chicken Noodle bowl was requested and promptly delivered in a matter of minutes. The portion succeeded in satisfying all outstanding yearnings.

Behold grocery finds of the week and Larry having a heart-to-heart with Snoopy.

In response to my instructor swap at Sum Pilates and unavailability of class slots for the next three weeks, I took my pilates needs to the neighbourhood of York Mills. Studio Bon, an establishment previously located in the parking-devoid district of North York, had shifted south to a quaint business complex off the 401 and Leslie interchange. Having discussed my plans with ochungg, she too expressed interest in a visit, albeit one unique occurrence.

My commute commenced far later than it should have: I departed around the 10:28 AM mark due to weekend morning sluggishness and anticipated the worst. I traversed mainly on Collectors, as lane reductions remained on Express. Tardiness was predicted, however highway traffic volumes were next to none, enabling the trip to be made in twenty-eight minutes flat.
Lane closures at the Leslie Street off ramp led to a confusing first venture. Google Maps directed me to the back of an unassuming complex, where a black vehicle also happened to be pulling in (without signalling). The vehicle swiftly swooped into one of the many parking spaces while I conducted a slow loop about the vicinity, squinting for any sign of "Unit 19".  The driver of the vehicle exited, noticed my perplexed state, and called out to me. It was the owner. Directions were provided directions to the main entrance, where ochungg's vehicle was spotted.

​Inside was a designated space for outdoor shoes, and a cubby by the entrance where slippers could be donned. I later learned that these slippers were for use by the general public, and that each user was to utilize the spray bottle by the sign-in desk for disinfecting. The safety of our toes resided with the meticulousness of the previous user. It mattered minimally to me, for socks were worn for 95% of my stay.

I scribbled my name on the sign-in (contact tracing?) sheet, then received a temperature check from the same woman who had granted navigation assistance earlier. The previous class was just wrapping up, and upon their departure, we hurriedly shuffled in, situated our belongings in the somewhat dusty cubbies, and darted for the bathrooms. The single stalls were dimly lit, and allocated one per gender. While I took to the Women's stall, I offered the Men's for ochungg. Inside was dimly lit and a scarce quantity of amenities beyond wet tissues - in Korean packaging, of course -, paper towels, and a partially depleted roll of toilet paper.  Thank goodness for Kleenex.
The Men's stall, as I would later learn, embodied an off-putting stench along with a grimy seat and dollar-sized spider nestled between the  toilet and sink.

​The instructor for the day was none other than my well-acquainted PPT (personal pilates trainer) from Sum. Acknowledgement of my presence was communicated in her gaze. Around 11:03 AM, the third member of our class appeared. Seemingly more familiar with the setup, she strode over to one of the Reformers in navy Lulu-gear, complete with matching grip socks. Her nails were also polished prettily with a peachy base and thin red half-moon.

The class was held in the main exercise area, where four Reformers were positioned at one wall. Across were the aforementioned bathroom stalls and cabinet of weights. At the far end were unused pieces of equipment, likely adopting temporary residence amidst the studio's moving process. With the smaller rooms were sightings of other equipment: one contained two Barrels and another the Cadillac and Chair. The other two comprised of a private lesson room and office space.

We commenced with an aerobic warmup, Wii Fit-style, if I do make the correlation. Each of us were given a set of weights for the exercise, then instructed to slide the BOSU ball out from underneath the Reformer.
​One of my greatest enemies in gyms and physio clinics alike, I eyed the balance trainer with furrowed brows and an upturned mouth - which, of course, was an expression kept exclusively for myself while masked. ochungg was given a purple set of one pounders, while the regular was handed a slightly bulkier pair. In my hands were small, inflatable balls, likely bestowed in consideration of my upper body weakness. Instructions were given to step up and down the BOSU ball while swinging the arms gently. The trunk was to maintain stillness, core engaged for balance. A light bounce (ie. pressure on the ball) was commanded after the first 20 counts, then the order of the feet was alternated and the sequence repeated.
Socks were removed during this portion for safety, as reduced friction would likely lead to an ankle accident, then slipped back on immediately.

Nexted, we moved onto the Reformer. Abdominal work proceeded. Unlike my standard private sessions, we didn't warm up for the tabletop position. Rather, it was the starting point for the rest of our exercises. The tension arm bands also came into play shortly. Slow, tension-affixed hundreds and straight leg extensions were executed. Holds at the end of the set were also not uncommon.
The Reformer was used for the remainder of the class. Thighs and glute were next up on the roster, followed by an upper body routine on the Box attachment. General weakness and persisting tightness in the back led to pain in the chest area. I relayed my concerns to the instructor, who appeared puzzled at my feedback, for the strain should be felt in the back and tricep muscles. My fellow participants also noted soreness in these areas. The only possible hypothesis was much-needed lengthening (stretching) of the pectoral muscles.

​Shifting focus to the side of the body, we were instructed to sit perpendicular to the carriage. One elbow was looped through the tension band, then extended over the head while maintaining a straight spine. A variation of this exercise involved placing the hands gently behind the neck, twisting in the opposite direction from the band, and hinging at the hip to bend forward. As with all pilates moves, resisting the use of momentum was critical on the return path.

A thorough stretch of the hip flexors, legs, back was conducted at the termination of the session to relieve tension and prevent injury. We were then informed to use the cloths and spray bottles by the cubbies to wipe down our respective Reformers. Ochungg and I were detailed in our cloth coverage, though the same could not be said for the regular. The disinfectant exuded an herb-like essence, as a spa or organic beauty store would utilize.

​The next class filed in nearly immediately, thus we scurried back to the waiting area once again. With the owner leading a class behind closed doors, there was confusion as to how our class payment was to be completed. The instructor realized our dilemma and strode over to assist. Beyond e-transfer and cash, the studio was not accepting any other forms of monetary exchange. I took to the latter, given that I was adequately equipped with hard funds for frustrating times in the east end of the GTA, while ochungg opted for the electronic alternative. The single class was $35, tax included, and pro-rated for the 10-class passes.

​Lunch was had at Me Va Me just five minutes south of the complex.

​I zoomed right past the entrance the first time, then looped back into the teensy parking lot from York Mills Rd. The franchise had appeared rather tiny from afar, however we soon discovered both indoor and outdoor seating areas to be exceptionally spacious. Beyond the cashiers were two parties, presumably waiting for takeout orders. Ochungg and I were greeted cheerily upon approaching; orders of Chicken Shawarma Laffa were placed and instructions were provided to retrieve our wraps once ready.

​An automatic sliding door separated the indoor dining hall to the patio - a much appreciated contact-less method of diner delineation. Underneath the emerald green umbrellas, a trickle of sunshine fell upon us, while a breeze wafted in and out between the glass partitions.
In under five minutes, our wraps emerged on shallow, curved plates. It was wise of us to have opted for the takeout format, for portions were gargantuan - nearly as wide as our faces and longer than our heads. Encased within was ample lettuce, chewy bites of chicken, and a handful of pickled vegetables. We bit into the Laffas expecting a texture akin to gyros, but was instead graced with indescribable toughness. Furthermore, the laffa began to unravel with consumption. A chunk of tomato plopped down on the table, its origins unknown, while orange-speckled sauce trickled through the laffa, onto my fingers, puddling on the plate. To enjoy the dish with dignity was deemed impossible.

A Chicken Shawarma Set was acquired for dinner through UberEats. The meal comprised of a Me Va Me Salad (primarily carrot and beet slaw), chicken shawarma, grilled vegetables, and a single piece of laffa. In consideration of the lunchtime preview, I had low expectations for the laffa. That said, Baba Ganoush demanded a medium for dipping. The pita was inserted into the toaster oven at a half-steam, half-toast setting, and emerged - somewhat miraculously - plump and aromatic. It paired fantastically with the Baba Ganoush, which offered creaminess and pungency without being overwhelmingly so. The medley of  grilled carrots, string beans, and peppers was delicious as well. The sole complaint lay with the tahini: similar to fresh, it was runny with a bitter aftertaste and absolutely no hints of nuttiness.

Leftovers resulted from both purchases, forming the basis for subsequent meals.