I exited at College station, first out of intent and second out of contingency; I was not looking forward to any further happenings in that passenger car.
Gargantuan pastries and elaborately decorated cakes filled the display case. These specimens were larger than the typical puff pastry, yet also exponentially pricier.
The buttery, flakey shards were lovely, but the filling left a little to be desired.
It was a surprising review to hear, for I had expected nothing short of spectacular for the fees relinquished.
Truth be told, though: the pearls were rigid, miserable, and devoid of any hint of brown sugar. On the other hand, the smaller bits of grass jelly made the consumption more enjoyable, for they travelled through the straw without resistance and constant poking.
The appointment concluded later than I would have liked, but enabled a trip to the nearby LCBO.
"You'll need to come in so a manager can change it for you." I was told. "Sorry for the inconvenience."
And highly inconvenient it would be, for there was no intent to visit until in the later parts of December or early next year.
A takeout order was hastily placed while in wait; serving to supplement the sleepy polar bear's lack of directional awareness, alternatives were provided to route about areas of congestion.
As I bit into a Fish Dace Ball with glee, I could not ignore the disparity in the expression that emerged across from me. Furrowed brows and a gaping mouth screamed utter repulsion. When I inquired to determine the cause of the grimace, the response came as a feeble "There are bones in this!" with a wimpy wipe of fish bone fragment on the nearby napkin. One would have thought the exaggerated expression to be purely comedic and not to be taken literally, but it was, humourously, quite the opposite.
Along with fibrous orange skins, lukewarm food, and the seemingly never-ending list of animosities, I learned of yet another area of my dining partner's preposterous pickiness.
I enjoyed the meal greatly, attempting to turn a blind eye to the spectacle before me: a half portion of fish dace ball being forced down the throat with noodles and choy sum. The scene was just all too ridiculous for me to process.
Using the tube of royal icing sparingly, three sides were finished with, in my humble opinion, with a respectable amount of decorations. Frosting cakes had undoubtedly improved my handling of the icing pouch, despite not having shed warning on the candies being too heavy for the icing to withhold.