Out & About #815 | SCHOOL + Immersive Van Gogh (Feat. Thunderstorm)

My last trip on public transit dates back to the first quarter of 2020 - and on the Translink system no less! On the GO Transit network, I would make my final, unmasked trip on March 5th - the good ol' pre-COVID days.

Since the notorious surge in gas prices though, I ran a cost comparison between options of driving or GO Train-ing, including parking fees for the former. Results were then evaluated against constraints such as transfer period between PRESTO taps, route considerations based on parking locations, as well as the distinct and definitive tremors towards driving maneuvers beyond my control. In discussion of my analysis with a like-minded companion of orangecane, I was made aware of discount passes for unlimited travel on the GO network: $10 for a single weekend day and $15 for entire weekends (inclusive of 3-day long weekends). It removed the hassle of parking altogether, along with rushing to make the transfer period.

​We departed in the direction of Clarkson at the early hour of 10 AM, with me, unsurprisingly, scrambling until the very last second. The forecast was predicted to be rainy and humid, yet we saw clear, sunny skies for majority of the morning.

​"Exhibition" came the announcement overhead; onto the concrete walkway of the CNE we disembarked, and through the underpass towards Atlantic Avenue.

​Sauntering through familiar paths in Liberty Village, I saw familiar buildings bordered by new construction - a neverending phase of the City, it seems. A variety of floral attractions lined the north side of Liberty Street, as roadwork took place on its south side.

​SCHOOL was the brunch destination of choice. At 11 AM, a short lineup was found huddled about the restaurant entrance. The sight was in line with expectations, for reservations were not accepted. An approximate ten- to fifteen-minute wait had been declared by recent visitors given their 10 AM. However, an early bird I am not, and will willingly accept my fate in exchange for sleep.

​Roughly forty minutes would pass before we were eventually guided within. Frankly, it hadn't appeared all that lengthy. The bulk had been spent gazing upon blue skies, shaded by nearby shrubbery, and welcomed by warm breezes. Had it been hot and humid, my perception would have varied vastly.

Originally to be seated in a two-seater with lower noise pollution, I requested the same dining conditions as my previous visit (339), in the open area underneath the clocks. Despite tighter seating, space was sufficient for two sharing plates, two mains, water glasses, and additional drink beakers. There was ample opportunity to add sharing plates to the spread, unlike Papa Giuseppe's patio spots.

View the full album HERE !

​Instead of the brunch classic of mimosa, I yearned for the refreshing qualities of juice instead. My supposedly "freshly squeezed" Pineapple Ginger was sweeter than preferred, revealing similar qualities to storebought, filtered pineapple juice with fine bits of ginger pulp at the bottom. Constituting of 75% pineapple-y essences and 25% ginger, there was simply not enough of the anti-inflammatory root in its composition. The sleepy polar bear's Mango Tangerine was far too sugary to be natural, exhibiting no more depth beyond mango juice from concentrate.

​The menu had been perused while in wait. We decided upon the Buttermilk Fried Chicken & Waffles and The Safe Bet, relaying our requests to the baby pink bucket hat-donning waitress. Her fuzzy head accessory differentiated her from the sea of black uniformed staff members. I later learned of the hat's reversible properties and its corduroy pattern on the other side.

​Four pieces of fried chicken rested a whole waffle, each about the length of a dill pickle and thickness of an eggplant. An ice cream scoop-sized portion of Brown Sugar Butter rested adjacent, along with a container of House Honey Hot Sauce. The first piece was, apparently, very juicy; the others, however, were quite dry. A thick layer of batter enveloped each segment: a uniform coppery brown with red undertones, indicative of its spice level. The syrup, not nearly as "hot" as the breading, contributed a much-needed sweetness to the pairing. Without it, the chicken was passable and the waffles on the dense side and essentially bland without butter and syrup.

The Safe Bet was a colourful amalgamation of eggs, hashbrowns, dressed side salad, and cheddar chive biscuit. Soft and supple was the scramble, with specks of pepper visible on its surface but indiscernible to the tongue. I bit into the chive biscuit first; much to my dismay, it was incredibly dense with a strong embodiment of pepper - a great disparity to the fluffy, addictive Cheddar Bay biscuits I had hoped to sink my teeth into. Quite average was the sugar cured bacon, exhibiting softness at the wider section but crispiness at its thinner edges. I had, in my haste, forgotten to communicate my disgust towards dressing, resulting in a horrendously oily pile of kale and arugula of which I could tolerate no more than two bites. On the other hand, the hash browns were phenomenal, as they had been even five years back.

​I found the bathroom stalls before a faded hopscotch floor decal once again. This time, the stalls were much cleaner, though undeniably grew in questionability over time.

SCHOOL grew busier towards the conclusion of our meal, which led to a brief wait for the bill. As the host strode by, I requested him to flag our bucket hat-donning waitress, resulting in prompt payment and departure from the noisy quarters. A persistent line could be observed outside of the door as we routed back to Liberty Street. ​

​We had received the mobile Emergency Alert for an incoming thunderstorm at the 12:45 PM. Yet, as per the sleepy polar bear's request, we proceeded with a trek around and about the Liberty Market Building, with me in wary watch of the grey clouds that were moving in steadily. While we had begun making slow strides back to Exhibition GO, droplets descended upon us and, with it, the most shockingly strong of gusts. We found sand and gravel being thrown at us. Shielding ourselves using a small umbrella, we faced Mother Nature head on. Changing direction caused the umbrella to flip inside out, which could be easily resolved by repositioning it perpendicular to the wind - common sense, really.

​Underneath the soon-to-rehabilitated section of the Gardiner we sought shelter, observing as rainwater plummeted through bridge deck cracks where the bents where affixed. A nearby pipe saw water gushing upwards, spewing grey stormwater onto the concrete grounds beneath. Thunder and lightning was seen at a distance, though I was, regrettably, not fast enough to capture the natural phenomenon. Dust and a slight delay aside, we succeeded in escaping the storm unscathed (with the exception of sand and loose aggregate being hurled at us). The humidity had riled up my treads, causing frizziness and flatness, though we had escaped power outages and met only with a delayed eastbound train.

​Eventually, we made our way to Union Station. The new Bay Concourse adopted the same physical feel as York, albeit with few businesses in operation. New vendors were slated to come, though, for the time being, there weren't many stalls of interest. York Concourse remains the busier of the two due to its greater number of attractions.

​We weaved through York Concourse until past navigation experience caught up with me. Through ACC - or now, Scotiabank Arena - we ascended up the waterfront-bound section of The Path in search of lavatories and nostalgia.

Finding myself face-to-face with an all-too-familiar overpass, I was overwhelmed with a sense of tranquility. It wasn't the same bustling atmosphere I had seen thriving during pre-COVID days, but it was a recognizable scene nonetheless. The Krys, while open to the public once more, had its doors shuttered and lights dimmed for our visit, meaning I would be holding onto to my redemption stamp card once more.

​Exiting onto ground level, I guided the sleepy polar bear in the direction of the new LCBO building introduced to me virtually by orangecane.

Lofty and extravagant it was, and before it a paved MUP it did boast. Though, the retail assortment included a wider expanse of liquors than rare, limited edition imports.

​Grey skies and a light breeze welcomed us back onto Queens Quay. In spite of the passing storm, the skies had cleared for the most part. Weather was surprisingly comfortable, and not humid at all, as I had feared while in review of the forecast.

​At seeing our looming booking slot, I attempted to enter the Immersive Van Gogh Exhibit via Queens Quay, only to be informed by security that the exhibit was only accessible via Yonge Street entrance. We redirected ourselves to the alternate entrance, finding delineated entry and exit paths, which were then succeeded by a general reception desk. Gallery-specific staff would provide further details on the ticketed event(s) of choice. The process was quite organized overall.

Immersive Van Gogh took place in a single room - a large one with tall ceilings, but nevertheless, only one room. Within this space, countless projectors had been installed to display and animate a comprehensive collection of Van Gogh's work across all four walls, in addition to some floor animations, for viewing pleasure. A curated soundtrack would sound from above, altering the atmosphere to suit the artwork's intentions. It was a nice touch, contributing a sense of intensity and commanding the attention of viewers.
Physical distancing was urged though not enforced; illuminated circles on the ground would guide visitors to find a seat within. Limited seating was available in the form of benches surrounding mirrored pillars and foldable chairs. The closer seats on the floor were akin to the first row at the movie theatre; the best views were obtained seated and slightly in the middle of the room, where pillars would provide back support when required.

Being  ̶s̶e̶a̶t̶e̶d̶ and low volume, the event was more static than I pictured, though still enjoyable and worthy of a visit. Interest would likely be lost with repeated visits, however we found two rounds of viewing from different heights and angles within the room to be adequate.

Media capture was permitted, as long as photos did not use flash and videos did not exceed two minutes. A few images were snapped through the exhibit, though I was quick to switch to video recording in an effort to eliminate disruption via my camera's focus light.

​Three active exhibits were being held at One Yonge: Immersive Frida Kahlo, Immersive Klimt, and Immersive Van Gogh. In the corridor connecting all three were sections of merchandise available for purchase. These items weren't that innovative, but there were still plenty of items to choose from. The array of wine/champagne glasses, pillow cases, glasses cases, head scarves, and cuff links indicated perhaps a more mature target market.

A period of debate arose: the magnets were too small for my liking, but the patches would never see utilization. Given their equivalent price point, I ultimately opted for the patches, later transforming them into magnets with some glue gun and individual magnet rounds. In retrospect, flat magnet strips would have fared far better, though I had long completed the DIY project prior to consulting Amazon inventory.

​I found my way to the bathroom before our departure. The corridor itself was decorated quite attractively, with an ornate light fixture positioned before the entrances.
By the entrance were caffeinated beverages, alcohol for purchase and consumption within the exhibit, and pastries supplied by Delysées. I proposed either procuring afternoon pick-me-ups within the gallery, or heading northeast towards St. Lawrence. The sleepy polar bear opted for the second option, listing "better vibe" as the primary reason.

​While I lead the way to Third Wave, both of us gazed in awe at the former Go Bus Terminal replaced by an active construction site - an area for deep foundations no less. ​To its south side was the completed product of Ellis Don's speedy hauling, "bright and shiny" as many industry personnel had once declared.

By this point, the skies had transformed to the glorious azure I know and love. There were even brilliant UV rays accompanying our path about Gooderham Building.

​We arrived to find Third Wave entirely packed with no additional seating outside of the café either. An Iced Baileys Latte, Blue Matcha Lemonade, and Chocolate Wedge were requested and taken to go. It was upon ordering that I was regrettably informed of their terminated partnership with Hadrien Verrier Patisserie (no more Hazelnut Financiers!). Replacing the French independent's creations was Blackbird Baking Co. and Noctua.
Prices had always been steep here, but even steeper since my last visit. The Blue Matcha Lemonade and Iced Baileys Latte set us back $6.00 and $6.30 respectively, while the pylon-shaped brownie of a Chocolate Wedge rang in at a whopping $4.25, despite being the smallest pastry in the case.

​The sleepy polar bear found the Baileys-flavoured creamer quite enjoyable, while I a tad too milky for subsequent sips. My fizzy, two-toned beverage contained no matcha whatsoever, and instead earned its name from the inclusion of butterfly pea flower tea. It was refreshing and lightly zesty from the dried citrus slice. That said, the probability of learning to recreate the drink at home is much higher than a costly repurchase.
Though the Chocolate Wedge housed sections of gooey melted chocolate, the portion was insufficient for sharing. Moreover, the brownie was more cake-like than fudgey.

Our appetites were insatiated, prompting a visit to Balzac's Market Street location. There, we not only found seating, but a boosted dose of sugar via a Cookies 'n Crème Cookie and Chocolate Hazelnut Tart. The duo totalled well under our Third Wave bill, leading me to remark that we ought to have visited first.

​The Cookies 'n Crème Cookie bore a tremendous number of air pockets, likely a result of a chemical leavener (baking soda) to gain height without aeration. The dough was sturdy and held together without external applied forces. It would resist transfer between case to plate, yet offer a chewy texture and amidst break-ability. I was reminded of the crumbly Matcha White Chocolate Chip Cookie from Put A Cone On It, for it somehow stayed intact despite its surface being soft to the touch.
I was less keen on the cookie than the sleepy polar bear. Although we both found the cookie dough itself enjoyable, I could not consume the entire cookie in one sitting. With ample Oreo bits folded within and an icing sugar glaze on top, the sugariness had me reaching for water after each bite.

​Sleek and sophisticated in presentation was the Chocolate Hazelnut Tart. Its tart base was well made: uniform and buttery, greatly appreciated as someone who struggles with the crafting of multi-component pastries. Less desirable were the minimal nutty aromas and too-soft ganache (corn syrup instead of chocolate?). Though, the highlight was really the crunchy layer separating the tart base from the chocolate. While brimming with sugar, I tasted the tart again and again in an attempt to decipher the ingredient. Toasted oats were unlikely due to their susceptibility to moisture penetration, thus ruling them out. There was potential for Rice Krispies, or some similar puffed rice cereal, though the possibility was shrouded with uncertainty given a taste similar to wafer bits. This addition was highly intriguing, I must admit.

​Adopting a similar aura to the neighbouring street signs, the bathroom of this Balzac's location was very spacious and very pristine.

With St. Lawrence Market closed for the day, we were able to bypass the stop entirely and head directly to Union Station, much to my relief. I was fatigued and ready to prepare for GOT7's 'HOMECOMING' FANCON.

I can now confirm that GO Trains have Wi-Fi. That said, it is also worth noting that signal is lost in transit, much like the underground TTC system. Though I do complain about Translink's LOE, their ability to prevent service network disruptions is admirable.