The room was cool and well-ventilated, unlike the one in Niagara Falls, though the thermostat was rather finnicky, and temperature/fan settings didn't seem to click. Being situated directly beneath the fan meant strong gusts throughout the night. That said, I didn't mind it one bit. After all, it's always better being colder than warmer. Moreover, the sheets were smooth and cottony - and surprisingly insulating!
I awoke just twice throughout the night, but fell back into slumber shortly afterwards. All was peace and quiet until around 6 AM, when the sleepy polar bear began shifting and exuding congestion-induced noises. The disruptions soon disappeared into the bathroom, then vanished altogether, reinstating the tranquil environment with which I was most acquainted.
Excitedly making use of alone time in the suite, I zipped throughout the space without restraint. Also eager to try the Chromecast function the TV, I retrieved my breakfast from the mini fridge, powered on the machine, and navigated to channel 8, as the sleepy polar bear had noted. Alas, I was unable to connect, and settled for flipping through the shows while munching on Coffee Cake from Balzac's and Nitro Cold Brew from 416 Coffee Co. An incredulous amount of grease had seeped out from the slice onto the white paper bag it had been presented with, leading me to believe that it was excessively moist. <i> But it wasn't. </i> It was despicably dry and crumbly, with a friable glaze (identical to their Chocolate Banana Bread topping) instead of streusel. Frankly, the loaf had no place in our suite, nor my stomach. I depleted it nevertheless alongside a Nitro Cold Brew that fell inferior to their Americano sample.
Naturally, I couldn't resist slipping into one of the complimentary robes before departing. The floor-length getup was toasty, cozy, and astoundingly plush.
Our server was believed to be the same: an older lady who wasn't quite accustomed to constant photo-taking and radiated an attitude conjuring feelings of awkwardness and uneasiness in the guests before her. Perhaps the second observation had confirmed the likeliness, for it was the exact feeling I had experienced before.
Unfortunately, I was informed that these delicacies were not for retail and could only be sampled if dining in.
To appease my disappointment, the waitress headed towards the back, communicating that she "would see what can be done". She returned to deliver splendid news: a faux flight could be assembled for my sampling. A customized selection of four could be obtained for the customary price of one full glass. She warned that the glasses wouldn't be presented on a wooden plate, but in individual, full-sized drinking devices instead. Nodding my head excitedly, the option was accepted with glee.
- Cave Spring - Dolomite Brut (Sparkling)
- Cave Spring - Rosé
- Cave Spring - Pinot Gris (White)
- Cave Spring - Cabernet Franc (Red)
As with chef's choice nigiri platters, it was recommend to commence tasting from the mildest option. The Dolomite Brut wasn't as sparkling as I had anticipated, neither the Rosé as potent as desired. The Pinot Gris was also relatively bland. Despite being relatively red wine-averse, I declared the Cabernet Franc my prime choice of the day, for it was but the only variation bearing a nuanced profile.
The dish would emerge on a speckled ceramic plate in a manner suggesting minimalism. Six slices of duck prosciutto were arranged at the centre, with a swipe of creamy mascarpone, sliced radishes, and heaping mound of baby arugula arranged on its sides. Salad dressing, as per my request, had been placed on the side in a small beaker.
Although nicely cured, the maroon-tinted slices did not taste remotely duck-ish. Orange zest-infused mascarpone contributed a contrasting zesty touch to the savoury slivers, proving itself superior to crème fraîche due to its more solid nature, but milder than cream cheese with a boost in silkiness. Plenty of arugula ensured proper intake of greens. Oil-based was the dressing, consequently making it too greasy for my liking.
The fries were great when fresh and dipped in ketchup, its skin-on edges supplying a toothsome texture. (Sadly, they could not be revived when retoasting for later consumption.) Onion rings topping the patty were too thick. Its batter than did not seem to cling. The puffy specimens led me to recall preference for Harvey's budget edition, though the fast food chain's were greasier with less volume.
Fitted with communal tables and many flight trays, we'd now know where the magic happens for any prospective future trips.
Before departing the area, I trekked over to Inn on the Twenty, the destination that had assumed my first choice for accommodations. A gravel porch and tranquil spa area welcomed us inward. The facilities appeared to be the ideal overnight retreat for wellness and recovery, however paled in comparison to NOTL and Price of Wales for entertainment and walkability elements. My once-second choice was viewed in a distinctly different light.
Along the way back, we discussed lessons learned and goals for future trips. First and foremost was the importance of maintaining one's health, for the instability translates to lowered energy levels and inconveniences posed towards others. We also concluded Prince of Wales to be a truly exceptional experience, whether in terms of staying, dining, or exploring. Service and sustenance had been spectacular - flawless even!
That said, its clean, refined taste grew addictive with successive sips. The formula was neither excessively dry nor juicy, and paired well with food that wasn't overly flavourful. Stepping foot into the wondrous realm of wine enabled me to see why white wine paired best with delicate profiles and seafood: the elements would be complementary, rather than becoming overwhelmed.