Out & About #798 | Weekly Roundup: Banana Loaves, Pecan White Chocolate Cookies + Goodfellas Square One

I've found myself functioning at a lower level of efficiency lately, compromising productivity for periods of laziness are wholly unwarranting of praise.
"I do wish you'd go with the flow sometimes." says my birthday buddy who is all too familiar with my comparatively high energy levels and equally drastic burnout routes.

To achieve a balance that contributes to inner harmony is far from easy, though. For every second that is not spent being productive, generating a result or achieving a milestone of some sort, is a second that is voluntarily forfeited and never to be experienced again. Occasionally I receive reminders, originating from both the internal and external world, that being objectively "productive" is not necessarily being "productive" in terms of gaining happiness, and, therefore, overall wellness. Yet, with each act of aimlessness, I find myself detesting the person that I've opted to be, regardless of the duration of temporary adoption. For those living under a comfortable roof, the bar seems relatively low for productivity expectations. I can neither empathize nor identify with such an emotion, nor intend to alter the habits of others.
That said, I do desire for balance - a sense of stability that enables me slack for indulgence, while fully knowing that all to-do list items can be handled in a timely manner.

The week commenced with takeout from Chiuchow Man, notably, the first takeout meal from the establishment in recent times.

< Pictured above and below:
L11 魚鮫墨魚丸麵 (午特) / Fish Dumpling and Squid Ball Noodle in Soup
L3  潮式鹵水五花腩肉飯 (午特) / Marinated Pork Belly on Rice
M02B 鹵水鴨 (半只) / Marinated Duck (Half)
N02 魚皮餃麵 /  Fish Dumpling Noodle in Soup >

Our orders were quite reminiscent of the now-faded dine-in ventures several years ago. Piping cups of Lemon Tea had accompanied the two lunch specials - denoted by "L#" - proving concentrated but passable. The Marinated Pork Belly and Duck were tasty, the former served with a heaping helping of seasoned white rice. Less to my liking were the Fish Dumplings that exhibited rigidity via a thick wrapper and minimal filling.​

Crafted shortly after lunchtime was my own Soy Braised Eggs. They emerged slightly overcooked, as my mind had wandered elsewhere during the soft-boiling phase. Nonetheless, the richly flavoured protein bites were fabulous over steamed white rice or a side of Korean purple rice and kale.

Creations of the week comprised of:

1) Walnut Soup - failed, unpictured, and an item we shall not speak further of.

2) Banana Bread (x2)

In response to the looming fate of six spotty bananas, I acted quickly and doubled SK's marbled banana bread recipe (without the cocoa powder) to salvage them. The result was too damp and too greasy, leading me to contemplate an excess quantity of butter while forgetting to factor in disposal of dark banana segments.

The final product remained delicious, though less ideal than previous iterations. The pre-consumption procedure would involve toasting lightly on both sides for roughly 2-3 minutes each, then allowing to cool to restore its crunchy edge.

3) Pecan White Chocolate Chip Cookies

Sustaining my reputation as a keeper of declarations (and impatient, overly curious baking enthusiast), I embarked on my own rendition of Pecan White Chocolate Chip Cookies in hopes of propelling the monstrosity that was Ninetails' dry, despicable edition from my gustatory recollection.

SK's favourite chocolate chip cookies were modified to include white chocolate chips and chopped Blancor couverture and a generous handful of toasted, chopped pecans. A total of 16 cookie balls were formed without the assistance of a cookie scoop (less dough wastage!), slid in the freezer, and stashed frozen until a few days after the incarnation of banana bread.

Half of the batch was baked at 350 F - not the shockingly low 300 F specified in the recipe - for a total of 13 minutes. Minimal spreading was witnessed, and the cookies set to reveal themselves identical to that of grocery store and/or catering company standard. Unlike your worst conference nightmare though, these lovely golden brown morsels boasted crisp edges and a delectably soft interior. In fact, the centre was so caramel-like I begun to visualize pecan pie, but with its profile harnessed in cookie form!

​These cookies were very sweet, obnoxiously so, yet nonetheless delicious. I excitedly gobbled two down with haste, relishing in its flawless, freshly baked qualities. My appetite recoiled in response roughly one hour later, allowing me to conclude that the experience would have been more enjoyable with just one cookie and a hot pourover to pair.

​A last-minute drop-in session at Lee's Badminton led to my reluctant cancellation of Thursday evening's anticipated Zoom stretching class. Surprisingly, there were fewer players than expected.

​We finished the night around the 9:30 PM mark with Caesar Grilled Chicken McWrap (me, the only one who dared to traverse a court on an empty stomach), Coca-Cola (for the dehydrated one I had accidentally damaged the spectacles of) and a Fudge Sundae (for the low endurance member of the quad).

Friday rolled around to the promise of The Rec Room and pizza at Goodfellas. Vaccine checks were dropped at the Cineplex-owned entertainment unit, as was the mask protocol. While majority of the arcade's visitors continued to don nose-and-mouth shields, a noticeable number were half-masking or omitting the covering altogether.

Around 7 PM, we navigated towards the Sussex Center visitor lot, as I had done countless times for Kariya Park viewings in the spring, Gong Cha runs, and a somewhat recent experience at Gyu-Kaku. ​Up to two hours of parking were complimentary with a validated ticket from the restaurant.

​At being unable to find a direct path from the parking lot to the restaurant, we resorted to exiting onto the street and weaving about the perimeter of the complex. Ascending the concrete to the restaurant, we caught sight of a breezy patio area, naturally still closed for the season, and a splendid view of the Absolute World Towers.

Within the restaurant was a brightly illuminated space: a plexiglass-bearing reception table was positioned at the front, then several seating areas separated by brick entryways and a mini staircase. Our reserved table resided on the north edge of the restaurant, beneath beautiful orb light fixtures and a sloped ceiling of glass panels for a broad perspective of bustling Hurontario and Burnhamthorpe intersection.
​Comparing their original location in Streetsville, the City Centre outpost was undeniably more spacious and luminous.

Menus were placed before each seat, such that guests could browse its constituents leisurely without waitstaff influence. For our party of three (and stomach capacities of two-and-a-half), the Capricciosa Napoletano pizza and Filetti Spigola were chosen for sharing.
​A private label lager by the name of Goodfellas Oro was my drink of choice. At eight dollars, it was quite pricey, though nonetheless a solid lager. Neither too zesty not bitter, the bubbling beverage was regarded fondly in the presence of cheesy, carby, and thoroughly seasoned dishes.

All pizzas were offered in Napoletana or Romana, the former embracing the signature puffed edges of wood oven pizza and latter being thinner but larger. Capricciosa contained toppings of fior di latte, proscuitto, and shriveled basil over an impossibly thin layer of San marzano - the pizza standard - tomato sauce.
We conclusively deemed the pizza decent, yet far from revolutionary despite its promising appearance.

Then we moved onto the Filetti Spigola, a platter of two well-seasoned Mediterranean sea bass fillets over a bed of charred, olive oil-coated root veggies. I pried into the top fillet, retrieving half for my sampling. The skin was crisp, yet not overly so, and flesh tender. I savoured each swallow while diving for the veggies, then began to relish in the buttery, phenomenal suppleness of Terroni's Branzino. There was no competition, but the Spigola was still delicious.

Nutella Pizza had been voiced as a dessert of interest by one member of the party, but was met with a grimace and my glare of disapproval. To end an already satiating meal on notes of focaccia and a storebought spread of sugars and stabilizers purely for the sake of pistachios was ridiculous to me. I shifted the focus to Bombolone and Tiramisu, classic Italian desserts that I would not ever be attempting at home. With the clarification that each order only consisted of one, we took to an additional Cannoli Sicilliani.

​The Bombolone was a fluffy donut filled with creamy custard filling, drizzled in a thinned Nutella sauce, and finished with a dusting of icing sugar. Similar finishing touches adorned the Cannoli, a structured, deep-fried shell filled with thick, creamy ricotta, and topped with a generous scatter of aromatic pistachios. One was deemed on the sweeter end of the spectrum, while the other as greasy as all cannolis to-date have been tasted to be.

​Far more enjoyable than the deconstructed calamity of 2016, the Tiramisu arrived in a stout cup decent for sharing on "I kind of want dessert" days, as told by our server who made no more than a total of six appearances during our stay. In spite of its authentic profile, the layers presented themselves quite heavy at the end of an already filling meal. Its appearance had been promising, but did not deliver the anticipated dose of amazement.

"Yours was better."
"Mine wasn't authentic though - remember that!" I corrected, "It was a Tiramisu Cake, not a proper tiramisu with ladyfingers."
"But I still like it better."

Our meal concluded about the 9:50 PM mark, at which point I proposed a trek through the nearby Kariya Park. A sign warning of unmaintained trail access greeted us at the entrance. I swerved about it without a second glance, adjusting my eyes to the dim scenery. A few ducks greeted us by the pond entrance.
In the absence of sunlight and other park-goers, the inside was admittedly eerie. The trees were barren and air chilly. We completed our ten-minute strut with subtle shivers, then retreated back to the car to contemplate the next plan of action.

A trip to The Alley ultimately proved unsuccessful for bubble tea acquisition and washroom usage due to long lines and a malfunctioning stall door. The alternative was T&T, which offered goods and services for all members of the trio: lavatories, produce, and snacks.

Strawberry Pocky was bestowed upon me for snacking pleasure. Little was it known that not only did I not enjoy artificial strawberry flavour, but Strawberry Pocky was the only variety I would gaze upon in contempt. "The worst." I had grouchily announced before turning my head away and burying my eyes into Nyanko-sensei.