Out & About #897 | Back to Downtown, The Pilates Body Session #4 + Minami

Sunday had been rainy, ironically. With the new work week, the cloudy curtains were withdrawn to reveal ample sunshine and brilliant blue skies.

It would be my first time heading into downtown during the morning rush in almost five years.

Instead of trekking south of Union Station towards the glorious waterfront, I headed northwest instead. Roy Thomson Hall was the defining landmark of the intersection, doubly serving as the divine conjurer of DAY6 memories.

​Upon my arrival, I was informed of two unfortunate circumstances - beyond the temporary lack of benefits and vacation days:

1. Work location shift to City Hall - Oh! The horror!!
2. Unassigned seating at hotel stations (And I assure you, the griminess was atrocious.)

The pending relocation was supposedly for the benefit of staff: a newer space with improved connectivity within the division. Though I couldn't refute the 90s hardware and stained carpets, I was quite fond of the building, along with the memories I had made within it.

​My lunch walk led me to Assembly Chef's Hall, for I was curious about Palgong's recent opening.
​Alas, the once-bustling dining facility now housed more vacant stalls than customers. Notable names such as Tachi have closed since my last visit; the only familiar spot was Lost Coffee.

Palgong was situated by the entrance of the connecting office building, their menu positioned before the counter just like their Finch location. In consideration of my hankering for milk tea instead of a Mint Chocolate Smoothie though, I swiftly exited and began my trek towards CoCo.

​I had hesitated initially, for speedy steps to Queen and Spadina were grueling in my overdressed state. But the White Grape Honey Jelly Milk Tea was nowhere to be found locally. As such, the order was secured via the CoCo App; then, it was time to brave the heat.

Again, I encountered the wretched paper cup and curling paper straw, and, again, I was unable to distinguish the physical features of my beverage before consumption.
​Did the drink comprise of milk foam? What colour was the Honey Jelly? What was the proportion of milk tea to toppings? Not a single of these curiosities could be appeased. Furthermore, I likely relinquished up to 20% of my remaining toppings - a simple result of the straw disintegrating upon contact to liquid, curling over the ice cubes, then losing the required rigidity to complete the task at hand. Never had I expected an extravagant a venture as bubble tea to result in such pains.

Bags, which are a dreaded brown paper and no longer a clear plastic, entailed additional fees of fifteen or twenty-five cents, depending on the drink count. "At least it's not as bad as Vancouver!" the Thai ahgase reminded me.

​Two hours of a prolonged tutorial session later, I scurried back towards the GO train platform. I'd need to make haste, should The Pilates Body remain in my daily agenda.

​As I pulled into the asphalt lot at the 59-minute mark, I was met with the shocking discovery that class had started on time - the one time I hadn't arrived early! Dashing towards the entrance, two fellow class participants were observed to be headed in the same direction, albeit at a sluggish pace.

We missed out on a few seconds of footwork, though the warmup sequence was essentially the same, with the addition of froggers. The inner thigh exercise was revisited later in the class with the feet threaded through the tension straps instead of residing on the footbar. Interestingly, the studio utilized relatively low tension (one red) for lower body exercises beyond the warmup sequence - contrary to Studio Bon, which always used heavy tension on the thighs plus a pilates ring to ensure engagement.

While lying on our backs on the Carriage, we were introduced to "Short Spine Prep". The sequence transitioned between tabletop position to extending the legs into froggers. A variation involved lifting the legs and lower back off the Carriage, bending the knees with the lower back lifted, then slowly articulating the spine down and extending legs into froggers. The sequence would then repeat with the feet placed parallel and controlling the tension of the legs. Leg circles in both directions were executed at the end of exercise, allowing muscles in the legs to relax after contraction but continue working the core (because of imprint pelvis).

​Internal and external shoulder rotation exercises were done in a seated position with the arms in cactus position and tension straps resting on the elbows. Working both arms simultaneously was less challenging than the seated isolated pulls performed perpendicular to the Carriage, but nonetheless demanding. From the prescribed one red spring, I reduced the tension to one blue nad one white; the instructor noted that this was acceptable, as it is more important to preserve the movement (range of motion) than grit the teeth while executing the routine.

Most of other exercises were similar to those performed in the second and third sessions, with the exception of:

• Rolldown on Carriage with twist and lengthening of arms - this one mimicked my favourite standing mobility workout from Well + Good, though was admittedly less strenuous due to being seated (ie. no feedback from the pelvis, hips, and lower limbs)
• Adopting a kneeling position with feet placed against the shoulder rests and hands gently touching the footbar (not gripping) and dragging knees towards footbar without shifting upper body. We later graduated to a standing variation of the exercise, similar to downward dog, dragging the legs towards the footbar instead. Without mirrors for reference, it was difficult to ensure a static upper body. While it heightened the importance of core control and body awareness, visual feedback was lacking.

I also observed that, while performing rolldowns and other seated exercises, many class attendees were curled up/hunched over and struggling to keep the collarbones open/shoulders down. But the instructor did not remind them, nor correct them.

​Generally speaking, the pace of the Beginner Reformer sessions are still slower than I'd prefer. Although increasing spring tension could be used to increase difficulty, my objectives lean more towards mobility, core control and endurance, and correcting muscle imbalances, rather than gaining strength.
The Cardio Tramp was promised for our fifth and final session, though I have my reservations, since I had previously been told that there wasn't sufficient units for a full class.

Yet another downtown trip was made on the third day of the work week. Naturally, I was less inclined to document the commute, given that it would soon become routine anyway.

A delayed lunch walk (and improved colleague-ship with a fellow new hire) led me to Village by the Grange. Climate conditions were breezy, unlike Monday's blazing sun.

Patiently waiting until my expanse of IT issues had been resolved, my new coworker suppressed hangriness and joined me on my GPS-free trek northeast. "I trust you." were the most reassuring words anyone could utter, in terms of my abilities to navigate the physical realm.

​The vendors within the building had evolved minimally since my last visit. Manpuku had undergone a facelift in terms of their laminated menus: no longer were they battered and folded at the edges. It was also with some degree of shock that listed values had largely been kept consistent with pre-pandemic prices, only raised by fifty cents at most.

A Shigure Don and Takoyaki were placed across the table from me. Togarashi was nowhere in sight. To my left was a young college couple, likely from OCAD or another nearby post-secondary institution; to my right was a stratified display of Japanese alcohol, ranging from lean, ornate bottles of sake to dark glass bottles of Hitachino Nest to aluminum cans of Sapporo and Asahi.

​The Ube Coconut Swirl ice cream from Baskin Robbins had piqued my curiosity as we entered the facility. However, I learned afterwards that samples were no longer permitted following COVID-19.

We exited onto Dundas, then began to retrace our steps to the office.

​Situated at the northeast corner of Queen and McCaul was Marvelous by Fred, or "Aux Merveilleux de Fred". Its glass windows enabled a peek into their pastry assortment, while the entrance conveniently positioned before the crosswalk.

​Failing to resist temptation, I tugged on the gold handle and began to marvel - no pun intended - at the various bready features in the display case. Other patrons pointed towards the espresso-based beverages and boxed sets of the pastry shop's signature bite-sized Merveilleux.

​Eventually, I sauntered out with a Chocolate Milk Bun in hand. Its appearance was akin to that of a hamburger, complete with a golden brioche bun and chocolate ganache piped to the thickness of a standard patty. My expectations weren't especially high, for the single item had rang in at just $3.50 before tax - slightly under market value, if I must add. The results were surprisingly satisfying without being satiating: a rich ganache sandwiched between fragrant, enriched dough.

​Later that evening, I headed towards LA Fitness for a second round of Latin-heavy Zumba.

Neglecting the constant technical interruptions, the class was extremely enjoyable, with ample space to maneuver given the lower number of class participants (versus Monday).

​I headed back into downtown the following day, arriving around noon by personal vehicle instead of transit. Upper management had proposed driving in during off-peak hours for the pickup of assets - "equipment", as they call it.

All was well until exiting the Gardiner, at which point I became engrossed with locating the correct parking garage. In fear of looping endlessly on one-way streets or encountering construction-induced lane closures, I turned into the first parking garage I laid eyes on. It was the incorrect one, thus I exited and turned into the next entryway; the sloped path led towards a loading zone, rather than passenger vehicle parking. Again, I exited back onto the street. Third time's the charm - two three-point turns later, the correct entrance was found at long last!

My path coincidentally crossed with my hangry-yet-patient coworker in the garage. Naturally, I requested his assistance in lugging my "equipment" down.

​When the ordeal was complete, I sought sustenance, having jittered from hunger throughout the entire parking fiasco. Rising mercury levels deterred me from trekking up to Queen Street for budget sushi; instead, I slipped through air-conditioned, LEED-certified facilities and entered into Minami - the original choice for lunch anyway.

The restaurant was rather peaceful at the tail end of lunch peak, though it was nonetheless imperative to confirm standard wait times before proceeding. After all, I wasn't looking to spend three hours routing back west. A half dine-in and half takeout request was proposed to the hostess, then later the server responsible for my table. Time was of the essence, and I must declare that the restaurant was immaculate in helping me attain this objective.

​While I took to a Minami Signature Selection for dining in-house, my takeout order would assume a Salmon & Oshi Bento - seemingly a Ritual exclusive, for it was not to be observed on the online lunch menu. Positioned at my table was a promotional image of the Minami Roll. Curiosity piqued, I opted to append the six-piece order to my bill, with three of six packaged separately for takeout. Despite being initially hesitant, the server verified viability with the kitchen, then returned to confirm that the request could be accommodated.

​There was little time to indulge in the beauty of the interior furnishings, but I deduced a sense of refinement and tranquility. Glass panels bordered the street-facing sides, offering ample natural illumination (without the harsh penetration of UV rays) and a peaceful view of happenings within the Entertainment District. Casting the gaze above, I observed gold, horseshoe-shaped light fixtures, hexagonal wall décor, and artificial ivy garlands. Similarly warm lighting was used for the south dining area. The dimmest area took form of a cozy, curtained bar space. In contrast to the gold and copper notes spotted throughout, chairs and floor tiling were of cooler tones: muted navy, forest green, and slate.

​My order arrived with tremendous swiftness. I had barely been seated for ten minutes before three pieces of the Minami Roll were presented. Admittedly, they were even more striking than the promotional image.
The signature rolls were steeply priced: 6 pieces for $26, averaging at $4.50 per maki. Though, the price was justified for the gustatory experience and generally luxurious constituents of negitoro, torched wagyu, uni, and truffle powder. Although compact, the maki rolls embodied harmony and potency in a small, bite-sized pacakge: they were buttery from the uni, well-textured from the wagyu overlay, brimming with umami, and even lightly crunchy from the nori - an exceptional roll overall.

View the full album HERE !

​The Minami Signature Selection comprised of twelve pieces of nigiri and Aburi oshi. Prior to its delivery, a shallow white ceramic dish of light soy sauce was placed on the table, indicating that its elements could be dressed with additional condiments, whereas the Minami Roll had been intended to be savoured as is.

Miso soup was presented with the thirty-four dollar platter, its lid lifted only after the bowl had been set on the table. The base wasn't particularly memorable, but it was definitely not gritty or powdery. Wide strips of wakame retained a toothsome texture that enhanced the otherwise basic starter.

​A small smidge of wasabi was present in each nigiri. The traditional selection was tasty, though the fish did not steal the spotlight. Rather, I was more impressed with the rice underneath: The grains glistened, and were the ideal size to be handled with their modern, coal-toned chopsticks. May I also express appreciation towards the matching chopstick rest, as it prevented the utensil from being rested on plates and potentially rolling off.

Between the two styles, emphasis undoubtedly shifted towards the chain's specialty of Aburi. The Ebi Nigiri (not Amaebi) was on the fishy side; Maguro was slightly bland. The Scallop, on the other hand, was superb: a sublime texture with a smooth, subtle bite to it.

​Alternating between nigiri and Aburi bestowed diversity in each bite. My chopsticks moved quickly, sampling each piece while desperately trying to recall the descriptions provided by the server. The Ebi Oshi (shrimp) boasted utmost creaminess, while Saba Oshi (mackerel) was splendid with a crunchy, herby (?) topping and gentle crunch of fresh asparagus, easily paving the way for a second piece. Salmon Oshi, whose appearance could arguably be compared against more economic eateries, differentiated itself in its execution of the typical Aburi elements. Neither overly laden with rice nor creamy to the point of satiation, each piece was perfectly proportional in its components, with a faint kick of jalapeno lingering on the tongue.

The rise of Aburi and oshizushi offerings across eateries of all price points has led to many sampling trips across the GTA. However, it is, without certainty, that the Aburi restaurant chain executes their concoctions the best. In spite of the seemingly elaborate combinations, the additional flavour components aren't overwhelming at all. Often do I find pieces that are too saucy without a distinctive profile, those that comprise of too little fish and too much rice, and those that to crumble upon contact. Minami's held together exceptionally, while retaining the signature shari shine.

​When I failed to exhaust the entirety of the platter, the server assured that the remaining nigiri into a paper box for taking back, and proceeded to execute the task in the kitchen after clearing the table.

Washrooms were located on the upper floor, at the end of a corridor equally as Zen as the dining space.

​The Salmon & Aburi Bento Set was an off-the-menu item, but available through the Ritual app. Packed meticulously in either recyclable or biodegradable containers with clear plastic lids exuded an air of exquisiteness. Black napkins and logo-bearing chopstick packaging further elevated the appeal.

The set was divided into Aburi oshizushi - an identical array to my own Signature Selection - sides of seasonal vegetables, and two pieces of Atlantic salmon. Either fully cooked or seared to partial doneness, the set was ideal for salmon lovers and skeptics of raw fish.

Met with excited squeals, the salmon was confirmed scrumptious, retaining both fatty, buttery segments and also more textured portions for texture variance. Though I would have enjoyed even a simply seasoned salmon steak nonetheless, spicy miso was an innovative take on the marinade.
The sweet potato - daigakuimo? - was of a wonderful consistency: not too rigid, yet not mushy, lacquered with a gelatinous veil and black sesame seeds. Included were containers of well-drained pickled yellow ginger and a moderate amount of wasabi (insufficient, should you ask me). The provided soy sauce packets were notably saltier than the tamari served on the dining floor.

​Minami was, conclusively, an optimal choice for experiencing Aburi at its finest. The experience had been speedy and lovely, and I would most definitely love to visit again.

​Rushing home to avoid the afternoon peak, I was about two minutes from home when breathtaking pink petals came into view.

​Spring has sprung, and with it wondrous, flourishing blossoms.

Navigating at lower speeds to meet the Community Safety Zone requirement, I passed by at least two streets' worth of budding beauties before I could resist temptation no more.

​Pulling over to admire the endless branches of rose-magenta petals, it dawned on me that another lady had done the same. We smiled at each other knowingly. The neighbourhood was stunning at this time of year.

​Eventually, I reached home. Ginger chews from my coworker were enjoyed. An attempt at a Java Mint Smoothie was made, though mediocre results were suffered.

Breakfasts of the week resided beyond the standard freezer banana bread loaves, uncustomarily involving: Pistachio Toast and Cereal (Rice Krispies/Frosted Flakes) sprinkled with toasted black sesame seeds and leftover coconut shreds, and Peanut Butter & Banana Toast with Milk Foam Cold Brew. 

​Lunches of the week included Jokbal, Spaghettini, Kale, and Cafe Landwer leftovers.

I had been advised that the 8 ounce container of Ube Halaya from Alminz Kakanin would last up to three days. Though, given my frequent downtown visits this week, I opted to extend its shelf life by storing it in the fridge and slipping in a packet of silica gel for good measure.

When Friday finally rolled around, I set out to craft my fourth batch of Ube Crinkle Cookies. After sampling it plain and mixing it with cereal, the remaining portion of the container weighed in around 135 g, just slightly more than the recipe called for.

The halaya was thicker than expected, and also more fragrant. It contained coarse bits of the root vegetable instead of being perfectly smooth like the pastes crafted by yours truly and obtained from the East Asian grocer. That said, these textured bits could not be perceived in the finished product whatsoever.

Allowing the batter to rest chilled for roughly two hours enabled structural integrity to develop. A medium (1.5 tbsp) cookie scoop enabled the formation of twenty-two relatively uniform spheres.

Five were rolled in icing sugar, then slid into the toaster oven for 11 minutes at 350 F. The first coating of granulated sugar had been omitted from the recipe, as 132 g of granulated sugar in its base was deemed sufficient. In hindsight, the step is likely a necessarily evil to ensure more even coating.

This batch was observed as the smallest, yet tallest batch yet. It was likely also my favourite edition out of the oven, boasting impeccable ube aromas and a luscious, gooey interior. Once fully cooled, the texture grew more cake-like with dense, fine crumbs. Nonetheless gratifying, I did contemplate a sixty-second reduction in bake time (or lowering the temperature to 325 F and baking for 11 minutes) to preserve the gooey consistency.

​For the rest of the day, I continued to smell ube.

The baking alternative of 350 F for 10 minutes was tested the following day, using the toaster oven for comparable results. As expected, the gooey texture was preserved at its core. However, the cookie was too damp overall, eliminating the subtly crisp exterior of crinkle cookies. Having received these results, I'd advise against underbaking. Perhaps I'll reduce the flour content next time around instead.