Out & About #912 | NOTL Day 1 (Pt. 2): Retail Exploration + Noble

Read Part 1 HERE !

​Once settled, we made our way onto the red carpet. Despite being dampened by the ongoing precipitation and squelch of foot traffic, its brilliant shade of crimson persisted.

Exiting onto street level, we came to the realization that walking in the rain was inevitable. Precipitation levels hadn't waned whatsoever over the course of the day.

The sleepy polar bear remained hunched over in drowsiness the entire time, unknowingly passing the misery onto me. Factors impacting decision-making were unchanged though: opting to sacrifice functionality for the laziest route possible and going umbrella-less, merely settling for a nylon hoodie that seemed neither water repellant nor water resistant. On the other hand, I was equipped with an umbrella - large enough for two, or one and a backpack - and not enough hands to wield both an umbrella and camera.

Our first stop was COWS. While I had expressed that I was unlikely to obtain ice cream in fear of upsetting my stomach, the desire to browse their merchandise selection remained. Others thought differently, queuing about the entrance in spite of the rainy conditions.

The PEI-based creamery had introduced new items to their shelves. One was an OVO parody shirt, swapping out Drake's beloved owl for the shop's trademark cow. Piquing my interest was a nylon cow print cross-body bag. Priced at a reasonable twenty-five, I had wavered slightly and slid the bag over my body for a test run. But when the buckle ceased to hold the strap in place, I knew it was too good to be true and set the bag down.

The checkout had been split into two lines for retail and ice cream purchases. Acting as the separator for the retail checkout were stout towers of cow plushies and assorted chocolate creations.

​From the choices before me, I took to the Moo Crunch Almond Crunch Toffee and Mint Chocolate Truffles. The sleepy polar bear requested Moo Crunch ice cream without prior consultation, leading to minimal leeching on my part. Unlike the boxed confectionery, the ice cream combined a chocolate base with peanut butter cups - too heavy for my liking, as I was still recovering from over-indulgence from the previous night.

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​My boxed picks entailed both disappointment and delight.
The "Moo Crunch" name was confusingly applied to yet another product within the COWS product line: an Almond Toffee Crunch, devoid of peanut butter and excessive creaminess. A thick layer of toffee was sandwiched between thin layers of milk chocolate, forming an 80 g slab that shattered at odd angles. The milk chocolate was a tad too sweet, while the toffee was sandy, lending a soft snap to its broken segments instead of sharp-edged shards.

On the other hand, the Cownadian Mint Truffles were enjoyed tremendously: smooth, bittersweet, and sufficienty minty without conjuring toothpaste-related recollections.

We continued to browse the area on foot, bumping into many umbrella-wielding visitors and poncho-wrapped tourist tribes along the way.

​Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted balloons. Inching closer, a familiar name came into view: Craig's Cookies.

​The NOTL outpost had supposedly just unveiled its doors to the public, with July 2nd being their second day of operation. One of the employees noted that the owner, Craig, had spent a significant portion of time at the Shaw Festival in his theatre days in Niagara and that one of the ladies managing the new store was, in fact, a close friend he had acted with.
The same lady had impeded my photo-taking process, expressing strong opposition to images of the cookie counter with her reason being that the display "wasn't full". They admitted to underestimating the number of customers on a weekend with such treacherous weather. And, quite frankly, I was also taken back by the volume of vacationers was in consideration of the uncustomarily dreary climate conditions.

​An invitation to support cookie sales was politely declined, for I had quenched my cravings for salted butter cookie dough just a few weeks ago (and also produced a decent quantity of my own rainbow-studded specimens).

​Budapest Bakeshop had been spotted earlier in the day during our Port Dalhousie stopover. Surprised we were to see a second storefront in the BIA district several hours later.

Within the display case were countless varieties of sweet and savoury rolls, the latter even offered in the form of sandwiches.

​The chimney cake specialty shop shared a space with an olive oil merchant. Within its retail quarters were mini Nutella jars, wearable merchandise, and even greeting cards featuring their chimney cakes.

On the north side of Queen Street was the Royal George Theatre, the precise venue for the Shaw Festival.

​We also chanced across a British apparel store by the name of FatFace and the most peculiar maple syrup retailer.

Its interior was unlike any other retailer in the vicinity, reminiscent of an educational exhibit with Van Gogh-like projections on the back wall and a stump-like structure for a desk. On one side were rows of varying styles ("flavours") of maple syrup, arranged in order of amber-ness; to the other were framed displays showcasing the tools used for retrieving sap.

It was learned that the retailer was supported by White Meadows Farm in St. Catharines, where an identical lineup of products could be found in their general store. Though it ought come as no surprise, the products listed on The Maple Syrup Store's online platform were cheaper than the in-store labels.

In spite of unstable health conditions, the sleepy polar bear reached for a can of Sapsucker, dismissing my advice to re-hydrate with plain ol' water.

We each smeared on samples of the maple-scented hand cream, then proceeded on our trek. Eventually, upon seeing nothing of interest further down the street, we went back to procure the dreamy lotion, one tube each. 

After confirming a meager selection of soon=to-expire products at the NEOB outpost, we rounded the corner to Balzac's. There, I would secure an incredibly pricey Coffee Loaf at 4.25 before tax. It would serve as breakfast for the following morning continually, albeit a depressing one. The slice continually leaked grease through its paper bag, but thankfully I was prepared with a plastic bag for transport.
​
While the sleepy polar bear voiced a decision to obtain salt from the Independent grocer we had spotted earlier in our walk, I strode back to Prince of Wales, relieving myself of the weighty items suspended in my tote bag.

​The early return was also used to explore the basement-level gym amenities.

​Located in proximity to the spa treatment rooms was a short corridor, at the end of which lay a key card-locked entrance. Consistent observations were made, for the compartmentalized facilities were as pristine at other areas of the hotel. The equipment was free of sweat stains, the space peaceful, and supplemented with a variety of accessories. I was surprised to find both an exercise ball and Bosu available for use. As per posted signage, those in need of a yoga mat could relay their needs to concierge, who would provide the necessary means.

​Weaving my way back towards the elevator, which was identified with "ELEVATOR" in bold Arial font, yet another chandelier was discovered. It served to illuminate the entrance to gender-separated indoor plumbing facilities.

​Back on the second floor, I began perusing the connecting aisles. An ice machine was discovered, along with tasselled lamps and even a second elevator! Its mirrored appearance allowed the apparatus to camouflage into the hallway's existing décor - a sleek, ingenious design, should you ask me.

Over the next ninety-minutes or so, I would transform from an oversized-tee-and-Americano-splattered-leggings-donning creature to a somewhat refined being bearing an all-black ensemble accented with vibrant pops of violet. The reservation, initially made for 6:30 PM, had to be postponed till 7 PM to accommodate my tardiness.

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A three-course dinner at Noble was included as part of our Summer Lovin' Package, though subject to table availability. When we strode into the restaurant to inform the hostess of our arrival, I was surprised to find majority of the dining area vacant.

She complimented the conspicuous coral bow adorning my crown, then squealed at the sighting of my quilted crossbody bag, commenting that she had never seen "anything like it" despite searching for a similar style. We were guided towards the window for maximum illumination (splendid!), an unobscured view of happenings along Picton Street, a lovely backdrop of paintings and rustic tiling. The setting was a wonderful middle ground between patio seating and indoor, air-conditioned respite.
At the corner of each table was a single bloomed rose bud, either red or pink, submerged in water. Adjacent was a candle resting atop a mound of coffee beans, along with flat white discs of salt and pepper shakers.

The sleepy polar bear, feeling unwell, requested hot water (and at least two refills) with sides of lemon and lime. I too took to a cup of water and, after much deliberation, the Summer Feature Churchill Cocktail of Niagara Bubbly Peach Cosmo. The Hendricks Summer Mules had been another candidate, primarily for its inclusions of ginger beer, mint, and fresh lime juice, though our server had noted that if I hadn't been fond of mules previously (I hadn't), I ought probably opt for a safer alternative. He was also kind enough to relay information about other variations of mules, such as Moscow (vodka) and Irish (whiskey).

​Concocted for optimal peachiness, the cocktail comprised of Peach Schnapps, peach nectar, sparkling peach wine, and a canned peach slice. The beverage was absolutely delightful for sipping, and the white cranberry juice was paired nicely alongside my seafood-centred entrée pick. The dining area had been set to a comfortable temperature, even more so after the intake of alcohol. Of course, the sleepy polar bear begged to disagree, and even ventured beyond the restaurant limits to grab a light down jacket upon disappearance of daylight.

​Palm-sized slices of sourdough were presented to start. An open star piping tip assisted in swirling cranberry- and herb-infused butter on the accompanying condiment dish. From the perfectly textured crust to the plush interior, I had zero complaints towards the carby opener, yet I restrained myself from further consumption as to reserve stomach real estate.

​Within minutes, a delicate amuse bouche was also brought to the table. Ceramic spoons had been filled with a minty cucumber-ginger starter, then arranged upon a dainty, floral serving plate with ruffles and gold trimming.

Our starters would comprise of the Charred Asparagus Salad and the Noble Kitchen Soup Creation of the Day: Sweet Potato & Sriracha.

Stalks of charred asparagus had been arranged bonfire-style, forming a fortress over red onion rings, teensy yellow potatoes, chopped hazelnuts, and quail eggs. The platter had been topped with an adequate amount of Maldon sea salt, which elevated the umami factor with ease. Dressing for the salad was requested on the side - thankfully so, for the tangy vinaigrette wasn't much to my liking.

​The sleepy polar bear's Sweet Potato & Sriracha Soup was quite the spectacle in itself. Crispy morsels and red-veined, leafy vegetables would be placed at the bottom of the serving bowl, while the soup would remain in a pitcher until arrival. These elements would be combined just prior to consumption, as to preserve its intended textural contrast. I found the soup enjoyable, for notes of Sriracha were mild, showcasing the sweet potato's honeyed properties instead.

​Spaghetti allo Scoglio, my chosen main, was everything that I had desired in a foundational pasta. Cooked to a slightly softer consistency than al dente, the noodles were personally found to be fantastic, striking perfect balance of tenderness and chewiness. Its sauce, constructed from olive oil and Chardonnay, ensured consistent presence of white wine throughout the meal and complementary qualities for the seafood components. In particular, I relished the succulent clams and sizable scallops, the latter supposedly been sourced from PEI.

​Embracing richer flavours was the 12 oz. Aged Ontario Beef Ribeye, also observed to be the priciest item on the menu at sixty-five dollars. Again tremendously tender with phenomenal accompaniments of a spring onion pudding and fondant potato, it was a dish towards which even I extended wholehearted approval. Even the non-fleshy bits melted in one's mouth!

​Towards the end of the meal, when the restaurant began to dim and ice cream-goers outside had vanished, we relayed our picks of a Raspberry Crumble Tart and Dark Chocolate & Cherry Slice for dessert.

The Dark Chocolate & Cherry Slice was garnished with a celebratory message for yours truly, conjuring even further joy to the experience.
​Had the menu not declared the treat as being gluten-free and vegan, I would have never come to the realization. Silky ganache, fresh rapberries, flavourful cherry preserves, and a crunchy crumble won me over with ease.

​Comparatively sweeter was the Raspberry Crumble Tart. Within a butter cookie crumble (that adopted the cragginess of oatmeal) was raspberry jam. The circular creation was topped with a tangy, delectable sour cream ice cream, providing the necessary contrast for depth.

​Our server for the evening, Graham, was exceptional - experienced, courteous, well-versed in the realm of food service. Be it his expertise in food and drink pairings, eloquently worded responses and entrée introductions, or overall cordiality, I was thoroughly impressed.
He was supported by a handful of younger, less polished staff, whose responses to our requests varied drastically. One had sloppily slid our remaining fare into their biodegradable boxes and brought the single box to our table before the conclusion of the meal, while another emerged with boxes to pack our own food, even daring to suggest combining leftover appetizers and mains in the same container!

Bathrooms located in the hotel corridor, rather than inside the restaurant. Guests were to pass through both Noble and the joined Churchill Lounge to find beautifully painted sinks and napkin towelettes.

We departed in high spirits, with me especially giddy at the remarkable service and extraordinary food quality.

​At the 10 PM mark, the sleepy polar bear declared defeat against a sluggish flu bug. In the meantime, I would venture down towards the gym.

Approximately fifteen to twenty minutes would be spent in the cardio room. The equipment was tidy, and the space utterly peaceful. As opposed to pop track-blasting radio overhead, nature sounds (eagle sounds?) could be heard, instating peace of mind.

​My stay in NOTL would be limited, and I was fervently determined to make the most of my overnight stay. With about thirty minutes till the closure of amenities, I hurried retreated back to the room and changed into my swimsuit. Then, around 10:40 PM, I dashed into the pool area.

​Prince of Wales did not offer your typical, run of the mill pool. The area adopted a classic appearance, with various paintings arranged along the walls. Similar to the gym, the pool was a compact space, with no more than two lounge chairs at each corner. Towels were provided were poolside use, and could be conveniently placed in a separate bin for laundering.

Only one curtain-less shower stall was available for rinsing the body, thus, to comply with the posted O. Reg, I awaited my turn while reviewing my surroundings. Given the size of the pool, it would likely become crowded during peak times.

With the remaining time, I glided along the length of the pool, executing breaststroke and backstroke to the best of my goggle-absent abilities. A few minutes were spent relaxing in the hot tub, and a final few more in the sauna.

​Finally, it was time to depart. Making my way past the main entrance and concierge desk, I slipped into the elevator as gracefully as one possibly can with damp treads and a towel wrapped about their torso.
At 1 AM, I collapsed into the bed, comfortably nestled between clean, dazzling white sheets and occasional gusts of air conditioning.