Out & About #761 | Week #86 Quarantine Update Feat. Yuzu Lime Cake

Some good news rolled my way come the latter part of the week: I was informed that graduation from the project wrecking all havoc and hell was within reach. At last I'd be liberated from the ceaseless crises over resource constraints, which are often play out more comical than one would expect of full-grown adults.

​I was done with being interrogated about my time charges,
Done with being interrupted amidst morning caffeination,
And, most importantly, done with leaders of a team acting out against the crux of teamwork.

We spent the days following our Scarborough trip indulging in the various items acquired during the trip. Components of the course dinners would appease our appetites for days onward, while the buns and bakery items from Aromaz would serve as breakfast. The Ginger Milk Egg Tart was a rare item to chance across, and proved scrumptious: flakey and silky with faint yet discernible notes of ginger.

​On a rather tranquil Friday afternoon, I began to construct a layered cake, adopting the techniques used in Cookie Tree's tiered masterpieces. It was the start of a Lime Mousse Cake with Yuzu Jelly.

I depleted the remnants of our yuzu jam with fervent fury - it had resided at the back of our refrigerator for too long. Ring molds deployed, I quickly assembled a jelly base by incorporating gelatin and poured it into their open-bottom, plastic-wrapped forms. There was some spillage, inevitably, which made for jellies of different depths. One was thicker and featured a greater proportion of peels, while the other was thinner and relatively clear. Despite using a rough estimate (read: unmeasured amount) of gelatin, the emerging product was neither too stiff nor too wobbly, and structurally sound enough to handle with delicate digits

​In my mind, I had recalled a decent quantity of cream cheese leftover from constructing the Japanese Cheesecake prototype. I wasn't wrong, though it wasn't quite adequate in filling my 7.75 in cake pan in its entirety. To its rescue came the spunky Key Lime Popsicles. Much like how the Mint Chocolate Ice Cream had been repurposed into a pound cake topping, the too-rich popsicles were emptied out from their molds and summoned for use within the mousse layer. Having preserved the lime zest in their freshest state, its sweet-tangy essence could be salvaged for enjoyment months later.

With both the jelly and mousse elements being relatively soft, a foundation was required to ensure stability - or rather, slice-ability.
Again evaluating the constituents of our fridge, my eyes fell upon a half-full carton of Aroy-D Coconut Milk. Immediately, I unearthed Sunday Baking's corresponding recipe for the ingredient. The formula was halved, for it seemed the appropriate reduction in scale from the sandcastle-shaped pan used in her demonstration. Also halved was the baking time, though my impatience was penalized with a spongy, damp centre. It wasn't fully raw, though was hardly manageable for use as a base. Inedible parts were removed, while fragments that were too small were stored for later consumption. Frankly, the cake was best served at room temperature, for it was adequately sweet with aromatic properties of coconut. The chilled rendition was a tad tough at 0.75 inches thickness, yet acceptable when paired with creamier components; any slices beyond 1 inch were excessively stiff and far too dense.

My efforts yield two variations:

1. A palm-sized creation with a thin layer of lime mousse and inverted slab of yuzu jelly
2. A full-sized Lime Mousse Cake with hidden centre of yuzu jelly

The first earned mixed reactions, for the base was too stiff and cream too minimal, leading to an unbalanced composition. In contrast, the second was showered with overwhelming praise. The flavours were relayed to be "complementary" - harmonious, in essence, with the mousse layer zesty, refreshing, and sweet tinged with fresh lime. Yuzu jelly offered a slight resistance, with citrus bitter peels for depth. I was also told that the translucent appearance added a factor of surprise. The base sponge may have been overshadowed by citrusy theme, but the incorporation of coconut milk could still be tasted while savouring leisurely.
In the following days came further confirmation of my fortuitous success: "This cake is honestly so good. I don't want it to finish."

Our sustenance supply dwindled at the sight of the weekend, suggesting the pan-frying of previously frozen garlic pork patties.

An exhausted fridge entailed an errand run at Loblaws, where Pillsbury classics could be found adopting even more designs than the previous years.

Adjacent to the checkout line is an ever-evolving medley of seasonal items. Earlier visits had seen ceramic pumpkins and spider decor, while kid-friendly gifts were spotted this time. Out of the corner of my eye was a furry patch of blue. Could it be?

"Pixar" read the carboard box. It was!

​A brief moment of hesitation ensued. Mini Sulley was ultimately brought home at the reasonable price tag of $9.99.

Upon  ̶e̶n̶t̶e̶r̶i̶n̶g̶ ̶a̶d̶u̶l̶t̶h̶o̶o̶d̶ sustaining a full-time position, the arrival of weekends was approached differently. No longer were the two days reserved for relaxation. They were but the only of two days where personal tasks could be accomplished, uninterrupted by emails or abrupt orders to hurry back to a VPN-secured network.

​Mornings for sleeping in are axed for early appointment bookings to avoid traffic, while hangouts with friends evolve into dual-purpose catch-up and errand-running excursions.

Saturday was spent partially in Scarborough, concluded with egg waffles and a despicable, headache-inducing Brown Sugar Oolong Milk Tea w/ 2J from Gong Cha's Midland/Finch location. The rest of the day saw a plethora of hurried footsteps, vacuuming of one room (only one!), hauling of a squeaky bike for maintenance, and an unsuccessful return attempt.

​​The Lacoste x Peanuts collaboration was spotted at Square One following this fruitless endeavour for fund recovery.

​A period of elation was also spent at The Rec Room, where a trio of dedicated Pump It Up! players spared an extra loyalty card for like-minded enthusiasts.

​Sunday mornings are now reserved for Studio Bon. My pleas for Saturday afternoons were denied with a dearth of available class slots, thus the hectic routine of pre-dance pilates persists. The silver lining of it all: minimal traffic on the 401 on both trips.

​I arrived approximately ten minutes early. Witnessing not a single familiar face, I resided in the waiting area while eavesdropping on the happenings beyond the wall. A couple's semi-private session was in process at the far end of the studio, while a bustling group session proceeded on the Reformers.
One of the girls from my slot has shifted up an hour, taking class from my first instructor at Sum. As the students began to gather their belongings during the transition period, the area grew chaotic and, admittedly, more congested than desired.

A couple filed in for the 11 AM slot. It was my first time observing male participants at the studio; even rarer was it to see an adoption of the exercise in both morning classes.

We omitted the Bosu Ball for the warm-up sequence this time around, and instead affixed the Cardio-Tramp for an extensive count of lying jumps. They didn't diverge tremendously from the routine I had been guided through in greater detail previously, though it would have been nice to have more form pointers provided while executing the movements.

​The day's work plan excluded bridges, surprisingly, but incorporated the platform extender for lunges. With one foot on the ground and the front calve of the other on the Carriage, one could isolate the hamstring and quad muscles by maintaining stillness in resting leg. Due to the height difference of the male participant, we were informed of yet another customization option in the Reformer: the Gear Bar. From this apparatus, a black knob was fetched and identified for our awareness - the "stopper". The female participants of the class mainly used the second setting, while the third was instructed for the husband of one attendee.

An all too-familiar element in my training, a foam roller was placed between the shoulder rests to emphasize the need for precision and control. Maximizing efforts to maintain stillness while lying on top, we would undertake several dead bug-inspired moves, along with leg extensions from the tabletop position. 5-second holds at the end of each set were not uncommon either.

​On the Short Box, we proceeded with the typical array of upper body activities, complete with reminders to keep the chin tucked and gaze upwards. The Long Box enabled slow rolldowns while maintaining an imprint, then steady rollups to a neutral spine, all while maintaining a C-curve. Reminders to keep the ribcage tucked close to the spine were relayed to me on several occasions.
Much to my delight, oblique-targeting moves made their way into the routine as well. Sitting on the Long Box perpendicular to the Carriage with the elbow looped through the hand strapped, we first stretched in the opposite direction of the tension rod, keeping the torso within the same plane. A variation of this move involved rotating away from the rod, then flexing forward such that the elbow would meet the opposite knee. 

We concluded the lesson with not a standing rolldown, but rather hip flexor and hamstring stretches on the Reformer, with one foot on the foot bar, and the other on the Carriage. Light springs were used to ensure a safe range of motion.

​Around the 11 AM mark, the owner popped in from the back door. Her stay lasted no more than 10-15 mins, during which vacuuming sounds could be heard from the group class area. The next sighting of her was a hurried change of footwear; swapping runners for boots, she rapidly made her exit from the same path as she had come.

The next class began to file in at noon. Observing more bodies in the studio had taken me by surprise, for the October schedule had noted no more than a total of two classes on Sundays. I learned later of Studio Bon's intention to expand the class count while preserving the existing instructor to student ratio, much to my relief. My instructor had appeared haggard and even a tad lifeless, in spite of her lilac Sailor Moon sweater and perky voice. A similar demeanour had been seen in the first instructor in past weeks. The cause, as I was told, was none other resource constraints - a fatal factor across all industries.
At the mention of Becky, it was confirmed that while '"appearing young, she is mature". Her Korean roots were also certified, though feels most comfortable leading classes in English.

​It would an understatement to say that I left the class feeling somewhat, well, neglected. More attention had been paid to the other three participants of the class, with fewer form reminders targeted towards myself. The situation could have been owed to the others' familiarity with the moves or lack of strength, though the wife was definitely a yoga regular, exuding a confident swiftness in each move.
The thought of private classes resurfaced, for I prefer the constant amendments to alignment and, most importantly, the grander leaps of progress. The meticulousness of 1:1 sessions posed great benefits to my innately poor biomechanics; I felt more whole - more intact - as a human afterwards, empowered with insight and boosted in diligence, knowing that the right steps can pave the path to improved functionality - today and everyday.