Out & About #758 | Week #85 Quarantine Update Feat. Osprey Marsh + Mint Chocolate Pound Cake

Capacity for creative contemplation has found me once again. A transitional period for workplace duties (and surge in proposal preparation activities at an upper management level) have bequeathed a sense of tranquility in my workspace. The emails have been less frequent, and consequently so have levels of stress and work-related anxiety.
But this enjoyment may be short-lived, for all that I am aware. Looming on the horizon is an interrogation requested by none but inevitable in the face of poor project management skills.

I've never been one to balk at an opportunity for exploration - sometimes to the detriment of my physical capabilities - and readily seized the opening for kitchen endeavour. A conceptual "chocolate cake" floated in my mind, shapeless and tasteless. The original debate lay between a rice flour-based formula and standard sponge, yet the reminder of sour cream in our refrigerator register derailed all thoughts of either.

Instead was the adaptation of Sunday Baking's Cherry Chocolate Pound Cake, where Amarena cherries were omitted and pink frosting was swapped for a mint chocolate edition. The Mint Chocolate Pound Cake was the best of both worlds, for it allowed for previously constructed, too-rich mint chocolate (ice) cream to be repurposed as a cake topper and eliminated contact with nuts, making gifting possible to a sensitive-stomached ahgase.

The cake was quite dense, particularly at its edges, where staleness was more prominent than crunchiness. Adding a loose layer of mint chocolate cream compensated its lacking moisture content while furthering the chocolatey decadence with bite-sized pieces of Surfin.

​Five attempts at Dalgona later, I attained success. Failed efforts can be concluded to derive from incorrect choice of leavening agent (use baking soda, not baking powder!) and inadequate temperature (170 degrees Celsius, not Fahrenheit).

My sole regret, in spite of achieving the caramel-toned exterior, was premature stirring of the caramel. Heeding not the warnings of nearly every tutorial on the Internet, sugar crystals began to form at the inner circumference of the pot, leading to a crumbly, sandy texture in place of a holey, honeycomb structure.

​Concluding the last run of cycling season was a 16.7 km ride in the Churchill Meadows area. I had set out about thirty minutes before sundown and detoured a few times through residential areas before finally arriving at my planned destination.

​The journey to Osprey Marsh had seemed relatively straightforward on the map, with MUPs entirely linear. However, I quickly learned that the Cycling layer on Google Maps is not always reliable. An arterial with no shoulder and only one lane per direction was far from my idea of a "bike-friendly street". Opting for sidewalks and paved paths subject to settlement and invasion by organic matter, I eventually arrived at the park at dusk. There was just enough time to catch a glimpse of fall foliage in the lake's reflection before hurriedly making the trip back.

​On the south side was a stellar view of the surrounding shrubbery and frequent sightings of aircraft.  On the north was a trail that led to two benches at the centre of the water bodies. A rectangular loop about Osprey Marsh was completed on the Lisgar Meadow Brook Trail; it was a quaint place nestled in a primarily residential area.

As luck would have it, the front bike light diminished as soon as the sky grew dim. I returned along Brittania's north side MUP, departing the recently paved Erin Centre Trail and its freshly mowed grass as well as the craters of an unmarked trail off Ninth Line. My path had crossed with the Churchill Meadows Community Centre & Sports Park - an exceptionally new facility featuring an interesting but unexplored loop.

​Nearing the end of the work week was a Costco run for necessities, which was then succeeded by a McD's breakfast of Hot Cakes, a single Sausage patty, and Premium Roast Coffee - black, of course.

Weekend activities were, for once, constricted to the west end of the GTA. It was a foreign feeling, yet one that evoked relief and encouraged catching up on sleep.

Marking my first entry into a karaoke establishment since 2019 was Young Street. The newcomer of High Zone had previously nixed visit potential for the longstanding Mississauga business, but confirmation of a renovated bathroom convinced me otherwise.

In contrast to my embedded records of the space, the chipped paint had been replaced with fine tiling. No longer did the bathroom reek of must and dust, though cleanliness levels remained questionable (Don't look beyond the toilet seats). Another factor worth mentioning was the acceptance of digital payment: 10% gratuity was automatically charged on top of the $15 Happy Hour flat rate, though credit and debit were now permitted.

​A late dinner took place at Yin Ji Chang Fen. Despite adopting multiple roles as the hostess, waitress, food courier coordinator, and cashier, the sole member of the floor staff exhibited consistent kindness, and even offered a phone charger to salvage my fellow ahgase's zero battery device.

Our supper assortment comprised of:

• S14 Pork Knuckles / 密制豬手
• S15 Lettuce w/ Oyster Sauce /蠔油生菜
• R06 Beef w/ Chive Roll
• R17 Beef Brisket Noodle Roll

wherein the rice noodle rolls were admittedly tad mushy, the lettuce a bit salty, and the brisket slightly tough. Unpictured are the Pork Knuckles, which were braised in a formula laced with peppery undertones.

The day concluded at The Rec Room. Congested was the entertainment section, yet vacant was the Pump It Up! machine. Three consecutive rounds were played without interruption; the circumstances had exceeded both my expectations and residual energy levels at the late hour of 10 PM.

Within the Trophy Case was a slate clapper, witnessed in many webdrama behind-the-scenes footage as well as scenes from my own childhood nostalgia.