Out & About #952 | North York Update Feat. Gol's Lanzhou Noodle + Don't Yell At Me

A dental appointment brought me back to familiar stomping grounds of Summer 2018. Over the years, the Keele and Wilson area hasn't evolved drastically, though has also been seen sporadic surges of development in the realms of residential mid-/high-rises buildings and transit line extensions.

When the gum-scraping ordeal was done (and my dentist had walked in on my hallway practice of MANIAC), we made our way over to North York for lunch.

The partial intersection closure at Yonge and Bishop had terminated, permitting vehicular movements in all directions. A part of the commuter lot had been fenced off to allow for Black & McDonald equipment and trailer to remain, prompting me to park closer to the east limit of the Hendon Park Trail for safer pedestrian access through the parking lot.

Braving the ruthless winds and single-digit temperatures, we arrived at Gol's Lanzhou Noodle in about ten minutes. The visit had stemmed from a curiosity towards the specialized noodle cuisine and limited locations within the GTA - just three outposts existed in Markham, North York, and Waterloo (of all places).

Greeted by the cashier upon entry, our party of two was seated almost immediately. We resided in the waiting area for no more than thirty seconds, barely enough time to observe the process of noodle preparation or assess high-level functionality of the food delivery pickup area.
A single hardcover menu had already been placed on the table before we were gestured over. Drink orders were also taken in advance, allowing cups of warm water to be delivered within minutes of settling in.

The seating floor was rather compact, occupying a little less than half of their total floor space. Most diners had arrived in small groups of three or four, with even a few dining solo. Seated along the perimeter of the restaurant, we found our table cramped and chair unsuitable for hanging jackets. Any bags in tow would be placed on the windowsill, scarcely avoiding the sauce splatters on the wall, while jackets donned for the entirety of the meal, for the almost back-less chairs would cause sleeves to sweep the ground.

All the waitresses appeared to be in a hurry. At least four were spotted dashing left and right about the facility, seating customers or cleaning tables. Two of these four neared our table on three occasions to confirm our orders. Despite being first-time patrons, we weren't spared the leniency for numerous inquiries. Both of them spoke in pressing tones, with one expressing absolute exasperation towards being asked questions at all. Needless to say, the experience felt very rushed.

When we finally agreed upon sharing a Regular-sized bowl of Traditional Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Beef Noodle with a Tea Egg and side of Sweet & Sour Fries, the waitress pointed out the existence of a combo option. The signature bowl could be paired with choice of Spicy Cucumber Salad, Edamame with Preserved Vegetables, or Sweet & Sour Mini Fries plus a Tea Egg, with Regular and Large bowls priced $19.49 and $21.49 respectively. It was an excellent deal, given that the side dishes rang in at $5.99 individually.

Arriving in less than five minutes was the Sweet & Sour Mini Fries. The portion was notably smaller than we had expected, constituting a small plate of thin potato strands, red onion slivers, cilantro, and peanuts. The accompanying aromatics weren't memorable; furthermore, the peanuts should have been toasted and roughly chopped for better textural contrast instead of folded in whole. Its dressing was a light drizzle of sweet vinegar, which gave the dish its "Sweet & Sour" name. The uniform thickness and length of the stands led me to believe that the segments were obtained frozen and merely deep fried to order. They also reminded me of Hickory Sticks, except thicker, less wispy, and coated with tanginess.

Our bowl of Traditional Lanzhou Hand-Pulled Beef Noodle with Sanxi (三細) noodles was to be shared. Two small plastic bowls and a pair of scissors were provided to assist the consumption process.
Adorning the surface were a few thin slices of Chinese Daikon, followed by a heavy handful of chopped cilantro, scallions, and about seven pieces of beef. The addition of fresh herbs had been a well-informed decision, for they accentuated the broth in ways black pepper and copious amounts of monosodium glutamate could never. They were unmistakably fragrant, encouraging us to fold our frigid fingers along the circumference of the bowl and attempt our first bite.

​The radish slices retained a faint crunch, while the beef slices were tender, adequately fatty, and delectable. Cooked beyond my liking, the Tea Egg was acceptable but otherwise bland and starchy. Being renowned for Lanzhou-style noodles, Gol's Sanxi was found to be dense and satiating, dissimilar to the springy texture of bouncy wonton mien.

​Washrooms were located the bottom of flight of rickety stairs, its ceiling barely scraping the top of the head. The women's stall skillfully maximized the tiny corridor to fit not both one spacious stall and one handwash-station, with grey Cintas dispensers positioned throughout. For a Chinese-operated business, the facilities were surprisingly clean and modern - an obvious departure from the filthy, dilapidated stairwell.

​Payments were made at the front counter as opposed to one's table. The entire process felt rushed, just as order placement had been, and I had overlooked the signage to my left stating 5% cash discounts. Although rare, I had cash in tow for the outing. While exempted from the money-saving opportunity, the bill was still exceptionally economic, totalling $24.22 after tax and tip. The encounter also confirmed that Gol's accepted both cash and credit as forms of payment.

​Re-entering the external world at around 1:30 PM, we both marvelled at the efficiency of the eatery. The meal had spanned no more thirty minutes, allowing us to recover time lost from waiting for a delayed dental appointment.

En route to the closest signalized intersection, we passed by MeNami, which now supposedly offers a variety of late evening drink specials.

Crossing over to the west side of Yonge Street, I caught sight of another new café addition to the Yonge and Finch scene: Space Coffee was learned to have opened approximately one month ago in a lilac-hued upper level unit.

​After quenching skincare needs at M Brand, we trekked over to Mr. Sun, where a BOGO 50% off promotion was in place until the 20th.

The outpost offered a seemingly more extensive menu than its P-Mall counterpart, in addition to a cozy seating area with unconventional light fixtures and décor.

​We resided by the order counter for some significant period of time, debating between milk or fruit tea. When informed that all fruit teas were crafted using green tea, a beeline was made towards their Royal Earl Grey Milk Tea and Roasted Milk Tea. Toppings of Grass Jelly and Coffee Jelly were added to each drink respectively, though it was only discovered later than the 50% off promotion did not apply to toppings.

​The drinks were taken to go and consumed on the following day, when we learned of the abhorrent usage of milk powder. The Coffee Jelly was also found to mimic the texture of grass jelly, adopting a looser format than the characteristically rectangular prisms to which we were accustomed.

​Navigating further south along Yonge, I led the way into Upper East Food Club. Meandering about the photobooth's many patrons, I learned of Machi Machi's return to the food hall and Bloom Cafe's disappearance. Now occupying the space is K-Jimi, a Korean stall fitted with layered cakes, fruit and cream sandwiches, Swiss Rolls, mochi bites, loaded sandwiches, and Tanghulu, a dessert of Chinese origins gaining abrupt popularity in Korea. Kimbap and Pineapple Buns were also available beyond the refrigerated display case.

The vast majority of these products were severely overpriced, with kimbap priced at $3.99 and layer cakes starting at $9.99 a slice! Thank goodness I can bake my own!

Across the street was Don't Yell At Me, where hankerings for caffeine were satisfied.

Dismissing the shop's new Kombucha addition in favour of their tried-and-true Osmanthus Coffee Latte was the best decision of the day. The drink was obtained in both hot (12 oz.) and cold (16 oz.) formats. My pick sided with the latter, with 50% sugar and no ice. In hindsight, the sugar level ought have been reduced to 0% to compensate the sweetness of Brown Sugar Pearls. Nonetheless, the beverage was decidedly delicious, with floral qualities of osmanthus shining through.

But the hot Osmanthus Coffee Latte was even better! Oat milk and almond milk were offered as possible dairy-free substitutes, for lactose-free milk wasn't an option on the menu. For those unacquainted with the taste of oat milk, the girl behind the cashier was more than willing to retrieve a small sample of oat milk from the kitchen for decision-making. Incorporating the milk alternative into the latte yielded an unmistakable smoothness: Aromatic, robust, and delectable, oat milk had effortlessly contributed an inexplicable complexity to the beverage.
Another interesting observation was how the hot Osmanthus Coffee Latte was comparatively less cloying at 100% sugar than the iced version at 50% sugar. I'd allude the cause to the addition of Brown Sugar Pearls.

We relaxed within the shop for some period of time, observing constant usage of the establishment's single bathroom stall. Our departure was met with a cheery farewell and galaxy nail art-studded wave from the cashier.

Routing back to Finch on the west side of the street, an uptown location of Mr. Pen was uncovered.

​I dove into the shop without a moment's hesitation, only to emerge empty-handed some few minutes later. (The mystery sea creature plush magnets did not justify their ten-dollar price tag.)

Shoppers incited an inventory restock of floss - amongst other things such as holiday-themed Lindt truffles.

​Finally, we returned to the west end of the GTA, relishing in the peace of the burbs and Braised Daikon and Pork over Short-Grain Rice for dinner.