Out & About #995 | Dal Pilates Session #7, Good Luck HK Cafe + T&T Fairview

Waking to excruciating cramps that caused me to bend over the kitchen counter was not part of my Sunday morning plan. Breakfast could barely be consumed, for the sporadic pulses of pain would come between every few bites of Raisin Roll and sips of coffee.

I spent most of the morning seated, then eventually resolved to reach out to the studio owner to inform her of the situation. Dal Pilates' cancellation policy was relatively forgiving: Penalties would not be incurred for correspondence made before studio closing time of the previous day. That said, I was requesting a same-day exception due to extenuating circumstances. My message was delivered around the 10 AM mark, yet neither seen nor responded to until at least 3 PM. The owner was kind enough to offer a 1:1 option to fill the slot. If desired, my browsing partner could take the slot in my absence for a private session at no additional charge.

​By this point, I had already deemed the situation a total loss with no chance of postponement. But when faced with the two options of losing a pricey pilates class or braving the stomach pains, I naturally took to the latter and geared up accordingly. After discussions with the owner, however, it was agreed that both members of the 2:1 package would attend the session, with me "taking it easy".

The crippling pangs would thankfully lessen over the course of the day, allowing me to regain functionality bit by bit from the mid-afternoon hours into the early evening.

A round of errands were performed, constituting a "primer activity" before our commute towards North York. Four McDonald's were investigated for the availability of Yu-Gi-Oh x Hello Kitty and Friends Happy Meal toys. Exodia Pompompurin and Dark Magician Hello Kitty were spotted, but Cinnamoroll was still nowhere in sight. Meanwhile, I also made an unexpected appearance at the household of my browsing partner, enlisting assistance for the transport of rice from T&T into my kitchen.

Resulting from correspondence between the studio owner, the instructor, and myself, Min had adapted our class to use the Chair instead of the Reformer. She would also check in at the start of the session, as well as periodically throughout, to ensure that my stomach pains wouldn't increase in severity. I was also ensured that I could stop the session at any point in time if I did not feel well enough to continue. In order to prevent pressure on the abdomen, the class focus would be shifted towards the lower body. Though, as with all of Min's sessions, a full-body workout would be guaranteed.

The warm-up involved standing behind the Chair, placing both hands of the pedals, and rolling down to press the pedals towards the ground. With only one red spring affixed to the apparatus, the starting tension was most definitely lighter than Jin, which made the exercise easier. I often anticipate the exercises to grow more challenging while progressing through the reps, thus sometimes err on the side of caution. The difference of Min vs. Jin is often next-day soreness vs. on-site burn respectively.
Stepping both feet onto the pedals, we then transitioned into calves raises and drops. Next, the feet would be staggered and placed perpendicular along the width of the pedals. With one hand on the support bar and the other arm extended outwards, lateral bends would be executed as to engage the obliques and side body. This would then transition to side leg lifts while maintaining one hand on the support bar and one foot on the pedal.
Turning to face the platform, we were instructed to grip both support bars and extend the arms. Keeping the arms straight and arches of the feet firmly planted on the pedals, the body would hinge backwards into a squat. As opposed to keeping the back entirely straight, we were advised to sink into the squat with a "poster tilt" of the pelvis. This equated to a moderately rounded C-curve, an uncommon alignment for conducting squats. The exercise wasn't incredibly difficult, but likely served to activate the hamstrings. With fingers wrapped about the support handles, it was far easier to reach a 90-degree seated position in mid-air than with traditional squats.

Switching to sit on the platform, the legs would be drawn close to the body. Placing the heels onto the pedals, we were to bend and extend the knees to further engage the hamstrings. The tension could hardly be perceived with one red spring, so Min gradually added more spring tension, and eventually I graduated from 1 red to 1 red and 1 blue to a combination of 2 red and 1 blue. The same exercise would be performed once more with the toes planted on the pedals and heels raised to imaginary stiletto height.
Addition of a green resistance band would elevate the exercise fantastically and contribute manageable levels of upper body work. The band would be sandwiched between the bottom of feet and the pedals of the Chair; both ends would be kept stable by keeping the resistance band taut and shoulders down.

1. The first round involved keeping the arms raised to shoulder height and maintaining said height while pressing the feet down and out, and finally retracing its path back.
2. The second round involved performing same set of exercises, but with the arms extending up and over the head as the feet pressed down against the pedals.

Despite the seemingly simple movement, it was no easy feat to keep spine tall, shoulders down, and core engaged ("scoop the belly!") throughout. All in all, I found immense joy in this low-impact exercise - and had unknowingly prepared for it in my earlier workout of the week.

The final set of exercises required rotating the body to pace perpendicular to the Chair. Standing on one side, with one foot placed onto the pedal, the knee was bent to draw the leg close, then extended to press the leg down, but not all the way to the floor as to maintain tension.

We then kneeled on the Chair with one knee bent and one leg extended and foot placed on the pedal, adhering to the following:

1. Hinge the hips back, pushing the pedal down in the process. 
2. Push out the pedal and retract
3. Hinge and push concurrently

Most of the work would come from the hip, with only the leg in a high-kneeling position serving to stabilize. I took to placing both hands on the hips to check pelvis alignment, all while verifying in the mirror that my stabilizing leg was kept vertical throughout the bending and extending. Without holding onto the handlebars for support, the routine emerged as a solid inner thigh workout with tremendous quad focus. Both legs were shaking afterwards, but minimal burn was experienced.

A tingling sensation traversed from my thigh to calve as both legs shifted back into their natural positions. Clearly fatigued, I could barely do a pigeon stretch on the Chair, with the hands pushing against the pedals. The final stretch involved a hamstring stretch with legs forming a V and heel of back leg pressed down.

Min had been very considerate throughout and asked several times if I was doing alright. I nodded, for the weaning stomach pains ensured survival was possible. The class was much better than expected: low-impact, easy on the stomach, yet still challenging and capable of generating tenderness that would last for the days that followed.

With trembling legs, I braved the uphill trek towards Finch. "Can you walk slower?" caused my browsing partner to whip around in shock.
"That's something I never thought I'd hear." came the jesting remark, followed by exaggerated slow steps forward.

My quest for wontons would have been quenched with ease at Wonton Express back home or in the Scarborough/Markham/Richmond Hill area. However, having already relinquished $7.20 in parking dues, I was reluctant to depart for an eatery without guaranteeing arrival before these restaurants' closing hours. Availability of seating was another factor worth contemplation.

​A number of takeout spots offering homey Chinese cuisine were spotted along the east side of Yonge just south of Kempford, though their lack of seating (or proximity of seating to the kitchen area) was far from ideal. Eventually, we arrived at Good Luck HK Café, a destination I had initially marked as a no-go due to the Thai ahgase's harsh negative review.
Unveiling the colourful interior without much hope for a vacant table, I braced myself to be informed of a lengthy wait. To my surprise, the staff pointed to one last two-seater after greeting us at the entrance.

Along the north wall was a vibrant mural of (supposedly) Hong Kong classics, ranging from a Lion Dance graphic to various signage intended to mimic the night life of the city. Situated above the counter were three TV screens, each airing a different segment. Two aired soap operas, one with Tagalog (?) subtitles, and the third a TVB entertainment show; all appeared to date back either the late 90s or early 2000s.
Directly underneath were vertical banners of menu item names in Traditional Chinese, arranged to alternate blue and red text. A few of these items seemed to be exclusive, for they were not spotted in any other corner of the eatery.

​Each table was already equipped with napkins, individually packaged chopsticks, and salt/sugar packets. This was shortly supplemented with room temperature water in handle-less plastic cups. Physical menus were provided for our perusal, though orders were to be placed electronically via a browser-supported platform, similar to Petit Potato. That said, where orders were exclusively placed and processed through the QR code portal with minimal staff interaction at Petit Potato, Good Luck saw exceptionally attentive service and greater degrees of involvement to ensure customer satisfaction.

​After much deliberation, we each settled on our entrées of choice: a C14 Baked Cheese w/ Tomato Sauce & Beef on Rice with Cold HK Milk Tea for my browsing partner and a B05 Signature Mushroom Prawn Wonton Egg Noodle Soup for myself. The $15.99 meal set included a complimentary beverage, though upgrading to an iced HK Milk Tea was associated with a $1.50 surcharge. Meanwhile, my $12.99 pick did not include any drinks whatsoever.

Presented in a takeout container with a sealed plastic (!) straw, the milk tea was far tastier than one could have pictured for the establishment. Silky without excess creamer, flavourful and complex without a powdery aftertaste, and chilled despite an absence of ice, it was well deserving of its title as being the restaurant's signature beverage. Moreover, it was only mildly sweet - a profile note deserving praise in the modern day milk tea scene. Turning my head towards the bar, a pitcher of brewed milk tea resided on the counter, uncovered. Popularity of the drink had likely prompted constant preparation as to facilitate order speed, whether dine-in or food delivery. (Mind you, about 85% of operations shifted to food delivery pickups after 8:30 PM mark.)

​The Baked Cheese w/ Tomato Sauce & Beef on Rice was strictly mediocre in my eyes. Despite boasting a spotty char, there was but minimal cheese adorning the ceramic dish. The rice was plain, instead of being pan-fried with egg, thus lacked dimension and grew repetitive with subsequent bites. The meat was over-tenderized to the point of loss of structure, though nevertheless a decent portion. A few sections of softened tomato, crunchy onion slivers, sweet corn kernels, and a standard starch slurry-thickened ketchup glaze completed the dish. While my browsing partner had deemed the choice acceptable, I was of the opposing opinion, especially in consideration of its price point.

​My own pick of the Signature Mushroom Prawn Wonton Egg Noodle Soup was average, but adequate in satisfying the craving for wontons in warm broth. Six mini wontons and a mass of rigid egg noodles would be served in a bowl of impurity-containing chicken broth, accompanied by two stalks of choy sum, which, in reality, was one halved stalk, uneven pieces of scallion, and unconventional toppings of fried onions, nori, and dried shrimp (蝦米). The latter contributed depth to the otherwise msg-laden broth.
Although smaller than anticipated, the wontons succeeded in soothing my queasy stomach without causing overheating when re-entering the relatively warm external conditions. The inclusion of monosodium glutamate could not be denied, however, for parchedness would follow in the hours after.

Being unable to agree between Mango Pomelo Sago and Black Sesame Glutinous Rice Balls with Ginger Syrup, dessert would adopt the form of Ramen Pudding is not Ramen, the priciest item in the category at $13.99. Similar to Snackshot, the components would be constructed of traditional Chinese dessert ingredients, but presented in alternate shapes to spark visual interest.

Delivered on a small plastic tray likely originating from Amazon or OOMOMO, the order spanned the following elements:

1. "Ramen Cup" Egg pudding noodles topped with a fried egg gummy + caramel sauce in a squeeze bottle
2. "Bathtub" assorted jellies topped with yet another fried egg gummy + coconut milk

​The former was bearable when drizzled with the caramel sauce but otherwise peculiar tasting and more starchy than eggy. Though, the consistency was probably rendered stiffer in an attempt to maintain the noodle shape during container transfer and consumption.

​On the other hand, the jellies were better than expected. Lychee jelly paired surprisingly well with coconut milk, while the red bean was, undoubtedly, the best part - just blistered, brimming with texture, and sweet but nowhere near cloying. The sago had also been cooked thoroughly and did not feel tacky whatsoever. Due to its somewhat brown-grey hue, the agar jelly was nearly mistaken for coffee jelly at first; neither overly herbal nor stiff, the asymmetric cubes provided nice textural contrast against the other jellies. Besides the impossibly stale, rubbery fried egg gummy, the taro balls were the most disappointing constituent. Likely a consequence of sitting out for too long after cooking, the exterior grew mushy, the centre grew stiff, and the entire morsel insipid.

Generally speaking, Good Luck wasn't as dire as the Thai ahgase had made the diner out to be. Service had been friendly, prompt, and attentive. Oddly enough though, there were only Mandarin-speaking staff members. Not a lick of Cantonese could be heard on site.

Alas, cleanliness was another matter altogether. Observed from the battered menus, greasy bowl exteriors with remaining specks of food, and messily presented dessert spread, it was obvious that being pristine wasn't the establishment's top priority. This became increasingly obvious when spotty remnants were discovered in the sharing bowls and the distinct eerieness of the stairwell to the basement-level washrooms. Between the colourful decor were patches of moulding wallpaper, a premonition for the filthy quarters of the women's stall. The space could be characterized by repulsive, splattered toilet seat and tiling, near-nonexistent flushing capabilities, an utter absence of paper towels, and a garbage bin blocking the sink. Thankfully, there was still soap and toilet paper - essentially the bare minimums.

​Having been simultaneously denied black sesame glutinous rice balls and shocked at their corresponding price tag, I proposed a trip to the closest T&T. The outpost within Fairview Mall was slated to close at 11 PM, leaving us with plenty of time to explore.

I routed to the cover parking I had visited two summers prior. Since then, the wing has been transformed to a "food hall" of sorts. Lining the perimeter were up-and-coming vendors such as Bingz, Cotti Coffee, Good Catch Café, Hazukido, and the North York exclusive of Omni Palace.

These businesses had long closed by our arrival, prompting just a quick trek to the north end of the wing (and a glimpse at Chow Dai Fook) before diving into T&T.

​The Fairview location, as I would later learn, was fairly new, having been open for only a year. Its interior was neater and cleaner than most of the franchise's other stores, with wide aisles and clear division of the produce, meat, beauty, and packaged food sections. Most astounding was its vast assortment of Japanese snacks, which rivalled the selection of Osaka T&T and conjured many childhood memories. Needless to say, I witnessed steeper prices than my recollection, though the costs remained quite reasonable in review of their location and demographic.

​Not many customers were encountered at the late hour, thus enabling us to navigate through the store with utmost ease. Majority of the mortals existing within the space were merely uniform-donning staff members restocking the shelves.

​Individual bathroom stalls could be found near the fish and meat sections: One genderless (with a toilet and urinal) and one accessible, both remarkably clean. I heaved a tremendous sigh of relief at having escaped the gruesome scene that was Good Luck.

​The Fairview store featured impressive promotions. Unthinkably low prices on mini taiyaki, glutinous rice balls, Melona, and produce incited impromptu spending. Ultimately, I'd depart the grocery store with a whopping bill of $88.88. (It was a lucky number, but nonetheless a hefty expenditure).