Out & About #864 | Le Génie, Gingerbread House Construction + Karaoke

Just when I thought the sleepy polar bear's revulsion towards raisins were childish and abnormally choosy, the office crowd proved the popularity of this opinion, deserting a raisin-filled banana bread loaf in favour of the chocolate chip-containing rendition.

​Typically, my in-office days of late have been spent exploring the cardinal directions of the intersection. When the need to undertake a mid-day venture downtown emerged though, I jumped at the opportunity to extend the lunch break and explore the unknown.

​Boarding Line 1 southbound during the lunch rush made for an interesting trip. The train was noticeably less congested than the afternoon peak, yet busier than in the morning. As we pulled into Wellesley station, I caught sight of a filthy blanket entering my peripheral. Huddled underneath the grimy mess was a red paper cup and a mop of mental instability. I was fortunate enough to be far away enough to escape any potential interaction, though a girl who had found herself next to an empty seat was not so lucky.

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.

​The trip had been centred about Le Génie, a bakery that I learned of for nearly one year, yet never visited due to its inconvenient coordinates.

Gargantuan pastries and elaborately decorated cakes filled the display case. These specimens were larger than the typical puff pastry, yet also exponentially pricier.

​Beyond their impressive assortment of baked goods, Le Génie also served espresso-based beverages and wine, complete with a wine fridge against one wall of the asymmetric establishment.

​My first pick was the Vanilla Flan. Reminiscent of an egg tart, the $7.38 delicacy contained a semi-viscous custard speckled with vanilla within wispy thin layers of puff pastry. I had been expecting a looser consistency to fill its cavity, along with more widespread fragrance to be perceived.

The buttery, flakey shards were lovely, but the filling left a little to be desired.

A Pistachio Croissant for the sleepy polar bear set me back $6.68. The enormous croissant was delivered on the evening of, sliced in half for sampling, then noted to be flakey with a "watery" filling.

It was a surprising review to hear, for I had expected nothing short of spectacular for the fees relinquished.

​The Pain Suisse, my priciest selection at $8.99, was a noteworthy purchase indeed. An innovative alternative to the commonplace pain au chocolat, the strip format allowed rich chocolate to be savoured along its longitudinal entirety. Crispy strips adorning its surface was another amazing addition - a component contributing depth and textural contrast.

When it came to unveiling the Almond Croissant - also priced at $6.68 - the next day, I was dismayed to find truth in the sleepy polar bear's words. The filling was indeed runny, and emitted a unmistakable whiff of almond extract. The crunchy (frangipane?) topping was lightly coarse and enjoyed thoroughly, but the croissant had succumbed to moisture infiltration overnight, replacing flakiness with an overall state of sogginess.

​My upper downtown travels had also led me to Baroness, from which the sleepy polar bear had obtained and flaunted a Thai Style Tea in my absence. The name had initially been brought to my attention by a "boba" enthusiast from the West Coast. She had warned that the chain, while delicious, was costly, easily averaging in the $9-$12 range. Dumbfounded I was at the time, but grateful I was to have departed the outpost with a Thai Style Tea with Organic Milk for 40% less than expected - $6.75 plus tax, to be specific.

​The drink included brown sugar pearls, which the bespectacled girl behind the cashier had gladly swapped for a half portion of pearls and half portion of grass jelly.
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.

​I returned home to a heave a sigh of relief. Instead of waking to another email-filled morning, I would set out for the east end of the GTA for biomechanical needs.

The appointment concluded later than I would have liked, but enabled a trip to the nearby LCBO.

​Izumi's Yuzu Sake had been regarded with high expectations, given the pleasurable profile of their Plum Wine. However, the unfiltered creation bore greater resemblance to Mr. Clean than lemony alcoholic beverage. It appears to me that the citrus x alcohol combination tends to yield cleaning agent vibes.

It only occurred to me two days later, upon receipt review time, that the location had incorrectly charged me for a $24 bottle of peach-flavoured sake instead of the $11 local makgeolli I had held.
"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.

​The latter part of the week saw impromptu gingerbread house construction. Truthfully, the kit had been purchased for building closer to Christmas, if not after, but I had managed to fulfill the week's duties swiftly enough to escape for the evening.

Due to persistent restlessness and loss of appetite, I requested Wonton Chai - or rather, Wonton Express. Hangriness crept up steadily with each passing second that the sleepy polar bear had failed to reroute. By the time we would be on our way, I would no longer be looking forward to waiting again at the restaurant.

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.

Ravenous I was when it finally came to unveiling the contents of the plastic containers. I eagerly reached for blanched choy sum, then braised beef brisket, then egg noodles and wontons. Glorious was the long-awaited quenching of hunger.
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.

Gingerbread house construction would follow suit, accompanied by two alcoholic beverages. Cowbell's White Mocha Coffee Chocolate Nitro White Stout was a fabulous, post-supper addition to the activity. Embodying the essence of "nitro" with a sweet, festive base, the brew was smooth, flavourful, and absolutely delightful - either on its own or paired with dessert.

A Baileys Hot Chocolate was also formulated using 3 ounces of Baileys and one single-serving pouch of Tim Horton's Hot Chocolate. (At this point, I feel the need to insert that the canned rendition is superior due to less packaging and customizable portions.)

​Although intended to be a two-person activity, I ultimately adopted the role of the leader, speedily reviewing instructions on the box then getting to work.

​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.

Turning to the box for design inspiration, I attempted to construct a wreath on one side of the house. Before its inevitable plummet, it bore quite a striking resemblance to a holiday-themed Starmie.

​Admittedly, the gingerbread house was more aromatic than I would have anticipated from a pre-packaged kit. Between wafts of cozy gingerbread was the sugary appeal of cornstarch-thickened royal icing. I munched on the mini gingerbread man, which had been included in the set, but dismissed the rock-hard candies on the basis of lack of enjoyment.

Towards the end of the night, the sleepy polar bear proudly revealed a twenty-dollar box of Japanese wafers, known as gaufrettes. ​They were decent, but undeniably on the drier side.

​Errands and chores would take place over the weekend. Amongst the to-do list was organization of gifts from Hong Kong.

​The coveted levelling bars I had yearned for so deeply were finally obtained!!!

Also bestowed upon me were: LINE merchandise, mediocre candies (that were later returned), and a single sachima.

I had had nightmares leading up to the final day of the week, wherein my birthday buddy had rejected my proposal of karaoke and prompted an endless jaunt about an unfamiliar café. She assured that me that, unless she was busy that day, she would not deny me of the activity.

​We first took to Yum's Kitchen for a late lunch.

​The spread comprised of a Grilled Chicken Vermicelli Bowl, Regular Chicken Salad, and Grilled Pork Steamed Bao.

Though food preparation time had hit an all-time low, I was dismayed to discover the near-identical colour palette and flavour profile shared across all three dishes. "Chicken Salad" emerged as a cabbage slaw drenched in a fish sauce-containing dressing, rather than the lettuce-filled compilation I had been hoping for. The small platter was passable, but not particularly memorable. My Steamed Baos were still plush, however to a lesser extent than the previous visit. Nonetheless, it persisted as the highlight of the meal, for the dark spots were spotted on the julienned carrots surely were not.

​Just after 3 PM, we made our way into Young Street for the highlight event.

​Within minutes of arriving, we were informed of the establishment's removal of the complimentary drink feature during Happy Hour. We had, naturally, equipped ourselves with water bottles, but my cravings for a Passion Fruit Black Tea with Coconut Jelly remained resolute throughout the four-hour session. Thankfully, CoCo was in mere walking distance.

We belted our hearts out to numerous classics from the 90s, 2000s, and 2010s, concluding with the most powerful of them all: Since You've Been Gone. ​It was a solid Sunday spent with splendid company.