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Out & About #901 | Cookies at Stackt, MyMy Chicken Sq1 + Sapin Sapin (Round 2)

5/28/2023

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I would anticipate most office employees to opt for the work-from-home option the day after a long weekend. But, as GO Train schedules are being revised to include more frequent service levels, one can deduce that my speculations did not align with reality.
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​While it may be odd that I intentionally choose the quieter days to fulfill my mandatory in-office attendance requirement, I reckon that a quiet environment and direct connection to the intranet improves productivity overall. Chaos in my surroundings is bothersome, for it not only distracts from the task at hand, but has the potential to lead to additional duties - especialy those devoid of education gain - being assigned.
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Solo lunch walks are the highlight of my downtown days. Without other team members present, I am relieved of the pressure to join any static "team-building" session during unpaid time. Exploring the city by foot is ideal, granted walk-permitting weather conditions.

Taking to the west this time, I acquainted myself with a number of new developments along King Street. Sites that were previously under construction were now completed mixed-use structures: mid-rise to high-rise residential buildings awaiting the arrival of ground floor retail. On the north side of Peter St remained the Shoppers, however long gone was the adjacent MEC store, now replaced by an open pit for deep foundations. An equally lofty condo resided at the southwest corner, its lobby being a space where countless pop-ups had once seen their time.
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Slowly but surely, my steps led me to King and Portland. The renowned brunch spot of Portland Variety, a name made familiar to me by a former colleague, had become Ruby Soho.
Being hatless, I turned south on Portland in an attempt to avoid direct penetration of headache-causing UV rays. The tranquil, shaded neighbourhood led me to Victoria Memorial Square. At the staggered nearby intersection of Wellington and Portland, bi-directional bike lanes were observed. Paving had yet to take place west of the park, but concrete separators had been poured up to Bathurst.
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​At reaching Niagara and Bathurst, I saw that Thor was no more; "Now Open" read the Booster Juice signage.

Across the arterial was stackt market, a destination I had visited just twice in all its years of operation. 
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​The container market was positively bustling for a weekday afternoon at 2:30 PM.
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With ample outdoor seating and a vast assortment of rotating vendors, it ought come as no surprise that the attraction is a popular gathering area for young Torontonians. However, the mid-afternoon trek also saw business presentations being held in the Solarium: a monitor positioned before a group donning suits and heels.
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I strode into Milky's Coffee to have a gander at the menu. It was as steeply priced as any other independent cafe, but had the added drawback of sluggishness. The artificial shokupan and tempura were of greatest interest me, followed by the bags bearing Manhattan Coffee Roasters stickers. Little did I know at the time that Manhattan referred to a destination in the Netherlands, not the geographically closer region of New York.
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Before departing, I quickly conducted a search on Courage Cookies, then poked my head within the space upon confirming that the establishment was neither vegan nor gluten-free. Having been mentally revisiting Craig's Cookies (819) for the past few days, I was keen to quench the cookie craving. Nothing less than proper butter creamed with sugar would suffice.

Their website had listed the stackt market location closed on Tuesdays, but I had waltzed into a pilot project for their summer hours by chance. The visit luckily also coincided with the start of their Daily Deals: Toonie Tuesdays between 12 PM - 4 PM. Thus, cookies were retailed during the window at just two dollars apiece instead of their standard $3.30.
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Boxes would be provided for every half dozen and beyond, with bags incurring an extra twenty-five cent charge.
Visually, the assortment already appeared to adopt a softer consistency than my general preference. The Angel Pillow, in particular, was described to be the softest of all - an unstuffed version of the bakery's signature dough. Alas, gooey messes are not my cup of tea. A package of predominantly chocolatey flavours was selected instead.

  • Triple Belgian Chocolate: Thoroughly chocolatey and sprinkled with flakey salt for contrast, the crumbly cookie also featured gooey pockets of white (chocolate?) on the interior.
  • Lemon Poppyseed: The tallest cookie of the pack and also the most innovative in terms of cookie ingredient pairings, this creation boasted a lemony presence that could be distinguished even with the eyes closed. Though, its profile comprised of too much granulated sugar for my liking. Not one to enjoy soft-baked cookies, I deemed the combination more fitting in scone format, for it would offer improved crunch, drier zest, and popping bites of poppyseed.
  • Crispy Boy: Hands down, my favourite of all - one can never go wrong with chocolate, crisp edges, and a soft centre.
  • Chocochunk: Unapologetically chocolatey contrasted with a generous sprinkle of sea salt, Chocochunk would be my go-to for snacking and dunking in milk.
  • Whiskey Pecan: Mushy and essentially structureless, the alcohol-containing combination was one I had envisioned fancier than the rest, yet found utterly unrepresentative of its name. Furthermore, whiskey's caramely undertones somehow transformed into a mashed banana presence in the cookie.
  • Brown Butter Rice Krispie: In spite of the strong aromatics of brown butter, the wonderfully burnt bits were lost amidst the soft dough and overwhelmed by the cloying sweetness of sodden, marshmallow-laden Rice Krispies.
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Admittedly, Courage Cookies' signature plain dough tends to be too malleable, and too reminiscent of underbaked cookies. Perhaps these remarks would vary vastly if offered by an enjoyer of soft-baked cookies, but, personally, cookies are characterized by their crispy edges, crunchy surfaces, and a moderately soft centre. Selections inclusive of chocolate were pretty good, but the basic dough was just too soft and mushy.

Do beware that stackt has since abolished all on-site parking, with the exception of emergency vehicles.
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I hurried back to the office shortly afterwards, confirming the withstanding King West contenders of WVRST and Sud Forno.
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​Meals of the week comprised of: Braised Daikon and Pork over Broccoli and Rice, Diana Sauce Chicken Thighs over Rice, and an inauthentic Thai Tea-HK Milk Tea hybrid sweetened with golden yellow sugar syrup and thickened with a 2% milk-and-heavy-cream topping.
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A follow-up MyMy Chicken visit also ensued.
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Since finding formidable pleasure in the eatery's Fries and Honey Garlic Wings, I couldn't resist the opportunity to branch out to the chain's Garlic & Soy Sauce Chicken and Sweet Potato Fries. By sheer fortune, bonuses of Coleslaw, Pickled Radish, and even an original Toppoki were included in our order!

Originally having debated between the Green Onion Chicken and Garlic & Soy Sauce Chicken, glad I was to have settled on the latter. Astounding in its execution, the Garlic & Soy variation was superior to the Original in more ways than one. The boneless segments weren't coated liberally in a sticky, sweet-savoury sauce, as I had predicted, but rather preserved their crunchiness with a perceivably moisture-less appearance. I had panicked that the Original had been packed instead, for they didn't seem all that different at first glance. Upon closer inspection, a drizzle of soy sauce could be observed, followed by a light dusting of powdered seasoning.
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​The Garlic & Soy Sauce Chicken was the very definition of exemplary fried chicken:
  1. Marinated till maximum permeation of flavour; and
  2. Crunchy, but not overly so like the Original

Harnessing an exuberance of depth and complexity, it was as if the chicken had been injected with the flavours themselves! A magnificent pick, indeed. The accompanying potato wedges were less starchy this time around, and great for dipping into Topokki sauce.
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​When the Sweet Potato Fries couldn't be requested as part of the twenty-dollar combo, a separate ten-dollar order was placed. The box's contents boasted a light, textured batter, with sweetness akin to those served in North American eateries when an upgrade for sweet potato fries is requested. They adopted a longer, leaner shape than MyMy's regular Fries and a softer bite overall, offering a delectable balance and sweet, savoury, and crisp.
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​The complimentary Toppoki was undeniably spicier than the Rosé edition. Instead of sausage ends, it included a handful of flat fish cakes. Normally an item of affection, the triangular pieces were regrettably overcooked to the near-disintegration. Small sections of cabbage were also found within, speckled with gochukaru yielding the image of kimchi. Its sauce was of a thinner consistency than the creamy counterpart of Rosé, but well contained within its serving vessel; it did not unearth itself with every shift of tteok, streaking all in presence with a vivid red-orange.
Fire was exhaled initially, but tolerance was amassed after successive bites. The rice cakes possessed a splendid bounce and, just like the Rosé Toppoki, the spiciness of the dish helped to refresh the palate and prepare oneself for further chicken consumption. The carby bits unmistakably assisted in extinguishing the embers. In hindsight, the side wasn't overwhelmingly spicy - nowhere comparable to the likes of Dakgalbi, Som Tam, or Indian cuisine. Deliciously addictive, my only gripe would be its seven-dollar price tag. Just as with the Rosé, it was best consumed within one sitting, as refrigeration leads to a mushy outer layer and rigid centre.
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At the onset of my stomach flu, The Pilates Body had declared me the successful recipient of a complimentary private pilates session. Several weeks passed before I was able to redeem the opportunity. Fifteen minutes were spent on the treadmill in the Ladies' Fitness Room at LA Fitness; then, I headed over.

I had expected to walk into a full class of eight, for the opportunity had actually been advertised as a bonus class for those having completed the Beginner Reformer series. At finding myself being the sole student in the 6 PM slot, faced with an instructor bearing a demeanour of even greater confusion, I alluded the fifty-five ish minute period to being my long-awaited personal consultation. (It was later learned that the others' absence was just pure coincidence!)
The instructor sported a short, blonde bob, all-black ensemble, and grey grip socks; a sizable cavity (*) on the left big toe exposed an emerald pedicure. She introduced herself, noting twenty years of pilates practice - mixed between mat and Reformer - then inquired about my experience. I responded that I was primarily mat-based, but has heard that Reformer provides more external feedback for the user. The utterance wasn't received with much fondness, for she pointed out that mind-to-body connection was the most pivotal in terms of obtaining feedback. I didn't entirely disagree, but external feedback from shaking tension straps was an immediate, tangible observation; establishing a comprehensive mind-to-body connection was an ongoing process, incapable of being achieved in an isolated instance. Moreover, external feedback is extremely helpful for those that aren't able to feel the imbalances within their body, due to lack of consciousness. Rather than coercing a sense of consciousness irrelevant of the exercise apparatus, it would appear more effective to maximize the benefits of a tool to assist one in achieving one's own performance goals and tailor the routine accordingly.

I expressed my desire to focus on rectifying my severe muscle imbalances for improved mobility, to which she responded in quite an unexpected manner: "We all have imbalances." She said, in a somewhat disapproving tone. "We can do more reps on one side, but we will still have imbalances."
I stared at her blankly for a few milliseconds, waiting for her to continue. Only when she did not that I realized she did not understand my dilemma the same way the Korean studios had. Instead of conducting a comprehensive body assessment, she preferred to start the session immediately. Instead of identifying areas of weakness for rectification, she approached teaching with an attitude of inclusion and self-acceptance. Instead of adopting a results-oriented approach, the emphasis was on embracing the process.
Of course, these comments are not indicative of a lack of experience, but rather a starkly different approach from the Korean studios - a standard I had grown to expect and appreciate for its efficacy.
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​We navigated over to the second Reformer, a noticeably more fatigued rendition of the windowside mechanism I normally took to, for heavier toning balls had been placed on the first.
Several pelvic tilts were performed, after which the instructor noted that my pelvic tilt and rotation wasn't obvious, if any. Corework followed, as expected, with the instructor guiding me through various combinations of single leg extensions and forward folds. The exercises were prop-heavy, one involving passing a slightly deflated ball underneath one bent knee while another alternating leg extensions at forty-five degrees and toe dips with the ball firmly squeezed underneath the knee for hamstring engagement. It was undoubtedly a tricky exercise to perform with fluidity. When we progressed to Hundreds, I received some insightful feedback.
Without realizing, I was tensing my neck, upper limbs, and hands, but both hand pumps and lying tricep presses should be initiated from the core and by "pulling down" the lats while keeping the rest of the body relaxed. While seemingly straightforward, the tricep press provided intense isolation of the arm and back muscles in spite of lying down on ones back. The burn wasn't as intense as exercises executed while facing down (ie. Parachuters, back extensions, Superman), but was a good solution to eliminate potential strain on the mid- and lower back.

Standing on the Bosu while facing the Tower acted as a test of balance and core control. With palms pressing down on spring-affixed bar and elbows kept close to ribs, I was instructed to pull down on the bar while keeping the rest of the body still. I appeares to have passed the test, for she had limited commentary before moving onto planks on the Bosu.

Arranging oneself on the Bosu was intended to prepare me for planks on the Reformer. The instructor demonstrated on the Bosu first, then had me mimic her positioning.
"So I just copy you?" I clarified before positioning my forearms on the dirt-specked Bosu.
"If you can." She replied, with more than just a slight edge.
I easily lowered myself into plank position without issues and "puffed up" between the shoulders, just as Brian had reminded in every Well + Good video involving forward bracing. The instructor, after having personally assured that I had "no issues" with planks, led me back over the Reformer. For the third time during the class, she demonstrated the exercise personally, instead of using words and imagery.
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​Unlike at Korean studios, where instructions are verbally called out to support the development of mind-body connection, the instructor (both, actually, including the one who had led the Beginner Reformer series) demonstrated the movement personally before asking the student to copy. I found this approach inefficient, as class time is limited and copying does not translate the direction into a sustained connection with one's own body.

Placing hands on the footbar and both feet pressed against the shoulder rests, the Reformer plank commenced by hovering the knees above the Carriage, tucking the tailbone, then extending the legs away from the torso, fingers curled and hands gripping onto the footbar for support. The plank would be held for one breath before bringing the Carriage back in, maintaining the C-shape along the way. Knees would drop, one by one, onto the Carriage, though it was easier for me to simply drop both in unison. The instructor extended few comments towards the alignment of my lower body, but reminded to keep the pelvis (tailbone) tucked and elbows soft. It was actually only a recent observation that I had a tendency to "lock" the elbows when in an all-fours position - spotted in my own practice at home when I had pivoted to face the mirror instead of performing bird dogs parallel to it.

Side body stretches in mermaid position were conducted afterwards. While I don't consider my level of flexibility to be above-average, the instructor begged to differ, expressing surprise at how my hips did not lift while extending my arm overhead. The aim of the stretch was to envision lengthening the side of the body, drawing the left arm from the left hip, then again on the right side. The lack of imagery and conciseness was a consistent observation made throughout the class - why ramble when you can depict with clarity?
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The final exercise was instructed with partial concentration around the 6:48 PM mark, when students of the 7 PM class slot began to enter the waiting area. I was guided through lunge variations on the Reformer, starting with both hands on the footbar. We then gradually progressed to having one hand behind one's back, then both arms extended above the head. It was essentially a slower, more controlled version of knee drivers that tested single leg stability and identified areas of low mobility. Admittedly, I quite enjoyed the exercise.

As with any exercise class, the instructor's guidance defines one's overall experience. While she had commented that my mat practice was evident in moves requiring articulation of the pelvis, the tone of voice didn't necessarily give off a sense of approval. A shocked/worried reaction came in response to the cracking of my neck, while feedback received was generally unclear in terms of good and bad. Words were delivered in an ambiguous tone, making it difficult to distinguish the intent of the utterances. I sought constructive criticism, advice, and recommendations to further understanding of my own body, but received none. Even when asked to categorize the class contents as "beginner", "intermediate", or other, the instructor hesitated, defending that modifications could be used for all the exercises.
By no means am I against inclusivity, but vagueness fails to form a point of reference for growth and improvement.
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I swung by Basil Box afterwards for a cup of Thai Tea. By the counter was my coveted pouch of Chiang Mai Trail Mix, which I quickly appended to the order. Upon grabbing the bag, the cashier informed me of its complimentary status with drink purchase - just my luck!!
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​Despite the countless times Metrolinx has rebranded (new logo, new branding colours, etc.), not once has the team reviewed the PRESTO website for deficiencies and user-friendliness. While I've resorted to reloading my transit card in person, at those grimy machines I despise so severely, they taken to updating the Next Departure screen with an additional column and implementing signage along the corridor to indicate the number of passenger cars per train. Personally, I found this addition to be more confusing than useful, especially when there are other aspects of the process that should take precedence.
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​That said, the user experience at Union Station has always been nothing short of exemplary with reliable Wi-Fi, frequent charging ports, and security on standby to handle the homeless.
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​I returned to the office on Friday for in-person training, joined by a handful of new hires from various district offices.
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The session would span majority of the day, and further provide a supply of sustenance - at absolutely no cost to the attendees. It was, undoubtedly, a refreshing change for those hailing from the grueling world of consulting. Breakfast goods included croissants, muffins, coffee, and yogurt granola cups, while lunch spanned Ham & Brie and Roast Beef-Mozzarella sandwiches and a veggie platter (with plastic cutlery on the side!).
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​During our second fifteen-minute break, I declared a desire to venture outdoors for fresh air (and possibly bubble tea, as well). Having befriended another new hire, I led the way to Dundas Street from the back entrance.
While King Street had undergone several changes during my absence, I was surprised to find the touristy stretch of Dundas relatively unchanged. Establishments that ought have disappeared eons ago somehow remained: Chatime, Poke Guys, You Don Ya - the list could go on.
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Uncle Tetsu had relocated to the east side of the Bay/Dundas intersection, next to Muji Atrium. Butter Baker had expanded its product selection, moved into the former Pablo space, and renamed itself as "Butter Baker Market Café"; the boutique now retailed bottled beverages and soft serve in waffle cones in addition to their signature baked goods.

Having been reminded of their Matcha White Chocolate Cookies by a (now-former) co-worker, I took a leap of faith and revisited the barely-green specimen. Astoundingly more enjoyable than I had recalled, the cookie was grassy with sturdy edges and delectably crunchy bits of white chocolate. Its price was another factor that took me by surprise - $2.99 after tax was unthinkable in today's economy.
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​The training session ended approximately twenty minutes earlier than scheduled, allowing its attendees to disperse and pursue alternate schedules. My proposal for a post-work bubble tea run was met with skepticism, for all teammates in presence wished to depart for home instead. At first, I returned looks of scorn, then realized the buffer was actually quite useful for last-minute packing.
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I completed a fun, but not-very-intense Zumba class at LA Fitness, then proceeded with my own burst of dance practice. While the instructor had been exceptional in spirit and class interactions, the multitude of squats and repetitive movements were geared more towards toning than rhythm-perfecting. In short, the class lacked the upbeat dance element I craved.
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​That evening, I slumped into bed utterly exhausted, for the fatigue had finally caught up with me.
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Between weekend chores and general catch-up, a second attempt at sapin sapin was made.
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Though I had intended on following the recipe without variations (minus omission of the latik), all four cans of sweetened condensed milk in the house were discovered as expired. The hue was of a peculiar orange and its taste offputting. Taking a stab at an impromptu substitution, the steamed dessert was made using golden yellow sugar, Coffeemate (as thickener), and twice the amount of coconut milk specified to achieve the appropriate texture.
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Steaming at high heat (400 F) for ten minutes led to formation of a wonky surface and somewhat damp interior. The same mistake was committed when pouring the second layer of the glutinous rice mixture. Only when pouring the top layer did I realize my blunder. For the final round of steaming, I would reduce the heat to 210 F for a low-and-slow cook time of upwards of thirty-five minutes, until a skewer came back mostly clean and the surface was jiggly but set.
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My mistakes led to a crust forming on the underside of the steamed cake, with the interior being structureless (read: tragic to slice). That said, the creation was perfectly fragrant and coconutty, even without the latik.
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The topping was a quintessential feature of sapin sapin, but I had never intended on creating it for this attempt - or any attempt, really, with the reasons being:
       a) I simply do not have the time nor patience
       b) I do not regularly have coconut cream in my pantry
       c) I may not even see success with this attempt, thus would have no use for the topping afterwards
       ​d) Rendering is not only time-consuming, but prolonged periods over an open stove leads to a greasy mane.
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​After the steamed cake had cooled, I realized that my second attempt wasn't as dire as I had believed. The impatience had led to cutting into the treat before it had a chance to solidify, causing the layers to fuse together. Though, after cooling for several hours at room temperature, the slices were more reminiscent of the pieces in Alminz's assorted kakanin box.

I also finally understood the reasoning for brushing coconut oil over the surface as being the last step. Having greased my container with vegetable oil to prevent sticking, I couldn't help but notice an icky aftertaste. My guess was that, by using coconut oil, one could enhance the coconuty-ness of the finished product instead of introducing a contrasting flavour that would break harmony.
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    Formerly an avid owner of several interest-based portals, Random Thoughts of a Quirky Blogger presents precisely the elements expected. From experiments in the kitchen to miscellaneous musings, from IGOT7 reflections to developments in transportation infrastructure, it's all consolidated here. Welcome to the raw, unfiltered side of Quirky Aesthetics.



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WHAT DOES "QUIRKY AESTHETICS" MEAN?

Quirky =  a term that commonly refers to something/someone distinctly different and unique
Aesthetics = the visual aspect of things



Together, Quirky Aesthetics refers to the things, events, and happenings seen and perceived by this blog's creator - quirky perspectives in a visual form.

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