Out & About #997 | Dal Pilates Session #8 (Final) + Kinka Sushi Bar Izakaya

Weekend errands always seem to creep up when least expected. From unexpected loads of laundry, ebay deliveries, and last-minute grocery needs, adulting appears to go hand in hand with the never-ending duties associated with mere survival.

​My browsing partner and I had agreed upon a mid-afternoon departure time, allowing me to utilize the morning hours for my own tasks. Having woken up later than expected, the schedule was delayed and tasks rushed. Following a quick errand (and McD's stopover) in Oakville, I immediately hurried back without detouring for coffee or snacks, only to wait another two hours with minimal correspondence from my browsing partner, until a series of unanticipated tasks terminated. By this point, an earlier departure would prove pointless, for the buffer was insufficient in accommodating any stopovers before pilates class.

At last, it was the eighth and final session at Dal Pilates. We entered into the facility with swiftness, for traffic levels had delayed our arrival until at least the 55-minute mark.

Both the new receptionist and our instructor greeted with smiles. In light of my tragic stomach pains of the previous Sunday, Min was cautious to inquire of my condition this time, to which I assured her was fine and "much better than last week".

The warmup would commence with about three counts of dynamic hamstring stretches: placing one foot on the footbar and the other against the headrest, then extending and bending the knee of the raised leg. Next, we would sit on the Carriage with our legs hung over either edge of the frame, place our hands on the footbar, and push against the footbar for an upper back/low back/hip stretch. Flipping onto our backs, the feet would be replaced onto the footbar for a few lying squats, followed by calve raises and alternating legs pedals. Form reminders for the latter included keeping the ribs down against the mat and making sure our heels were lowered beneath the footbar before returning to the raised position for the full range of motion.

Afterwards, we'd immediately transition into core work. The exercise that followed appeared somewhat unconventional at first, but was, in fact, incredibly innovative. Intended to target total core, the move combined isolations with rotation, revealing itself extremely challenging even at low spring tensions. Both hands would form a steady grip about one of two tension straps; we'd start with the left strap. Holding the strap just above the shoulders, the legs would be raised to tabletop. This assumed the starting position. Exhaling, the leg opposite of the tension strap would be extended while the upper body curled towards the extended leg. Breathing cues were: Inhale to prepare, exhale to crunch and extend leg, inhale to maintain the position, and exhale to return. Despite only being performed a few times, the exercise engaged the obliques and upper-/mid-back thoroughly. The weighted oblique twist/bicycle crunch variation was also deemed fitting for inclusion into at-home workouts, perhaps using a resistance band, light weight, or even both. Of course, we performed at least eight more counts of the exercise after alternating to the right tension strap and extending the left leg. By this point, the upper abdominals had fatigued quite significantly.

After a brief break, we sat on the Carriage to face away from the footbar. Both feet were slid between the head rest and hands threaded through the tension straps. Articulating through the spine, the instructor called out for us to roll back towards our tipping point with the tailbone tucked and shoulder blades relaxed. Arms were raised just slightly below shoulder height, then pulled backwards while maintaining a straight spine and tucked tailbone. By resisting the force of gravity, one would summon deep core and back muscles. Meanwhile, the elbows drawn close to the ribs would isolate the lat and tricep muscles accordingly.

The exercise would be executed with two more variations:
1) Bending one knee into a low tabletop (slightly sent away from the hip) and raising the leg, then preserving the position as best as possible while continuing to pull back the elbows.

The intent was to engage the thighs and quads, in addition to the core and postural muscles, by lifting the leg. The exercise constituted a fun challenge, to say in the least, and was manageable until introducing the next tier of difficulty.

2) Both legs would adopt tabletop position, and the elbows continued being drawn close to the ribs. The rest of the body was to be kept still, with the exception of arms pulling back the tension traps.

The sequence finisher was the epitome of a total core exercise, for it demanded balance, strength, and poise to resist gravity and external forces. Only 4-5 reps were executed, much to our relief.

At last, we arrived the lower body segment: glutes, hamstring, and thigh were the focus. The Short Box was placed over the springs, wedged between the Carriage and frame. Initially, we were told to place our feet againsts the shoulder rests and bend over the torso over the Short Box for upper back extensions. This was not entirely dissimilar to positioning a pilates ball behind the back on the mat and conducting the same stretch.

The next step involved transitioning to a glute bridge with articulation, then staying lifted in the bridge while extending and bending both knees (long bridge). While not normally one to have difficulty with articulation, the extended upper body and extreme arching of the lower back made sequencing through each segment of the spine much more difficult than on the mat, without any springs attached. In fact, I had commenced with two red springs at first, but gradually decrease the tension to 1 red + 1 blue, then eventually just 1 red.​

Next, we shifted onto the Short Box and placed the arches of the feet against the edge of the Carriage. Lengthening the legs to push the Carriage away was surprisingly easier than bending the knees to return, which required intense hamstring control to prevent the Carriage from slamming into the Short Box. My leggings began slipping on the surface of the box a few reps in, prompting a sticky mat to be slid underneath the derrière. A variation of this exercise involved straightening one leg and hovering it over the Carriage. Meanwhile, the other leg would continue to bend and extend, constituting comprehensive isolation.

After flipping into a prone position, planks would be executed: a handful of knee hovers transitioning into full planks then returning, and just two side planks on each side. I had attempted to use 1 red spring at first, but the tension was too high to push out the Carriage. I changed to 1 blue, yet my exercise partner impressively stuck with red.

A Pigeon stretch and child's pose on the Reformer would conclude the class.

​For the most part, form reminders again revolved about "keeping the shoulders relaxed" and "scooping the belly". During the long bridge exercise, the instructor kept a watchful eye on my pelvis and quickly fixed any rotational tendencies, though reliable methods of mindful self-correction remain a mystery to me.

The conclusion of eight 50-minute classes at Dal Pilates brought about a sigh of relief. Frankly, fitting the event into my perpetually hectic schedule was never easy. Beyond scheduling concerns were congestion levels on the 401, availability of unique and desirable food options in the area, and integration with other errands and/or weekly happenings. I also wasn't the biggest fan of their single stall bathroom, which required a key for access, nor the Door Inquiry requests that would often delay class start times.

In spite of cleaning efforts undertaken by the staff between sessions, the studio was often found filthy with hair underneath the Reformer or on the springs, broken lights, duct-taped tiles, or dust in the corner of the change room. Compared to similar establishments, it wasn't nearly as clean as one would anticipate.

We collectively agreed that Min's full-body workouts would be missed, but that pilates classes were a pricey investment for the average citizen. For the time being, the package would not be renewed. Bills aside, I hadn't experienced the grand takeaways of private sessions (guidance, form correction, insight) nor group classes (innovative, challenging routines that were sure to render a burn) I had been expecting. 

​With neither milk tea nor bingsoo in the plans, I proposed trekking to Paris Baguette for market research to browse their offerings. Their atrocious cake prices were now notorious amongst food enthusiasts, yet a constant stream of patrons filed into the bakery even at the late hour of 7 PM.

Lining the shelves were a decent variety of buns, pastries, shokupan, and stuffed buns. My eyes darted between the labels with disbelief and wonder, both in awe at the flawless decorations and in horror at the prices being charged,

​I'd consumed more than enough Salted Bread Rolls for the time being. My browsing partner and I found ourselves gravitating towards the same item, an individually packaged portion of soft cheesecake. The parcel was procured for splitting and sampling later.

​The Cheese Soft Cake boasted very fine air pockets but was more cake-like than cheesy. Sugar was identified as the main constituent, followed by eggs, and probably flour. The specimen was more delicate than dense, and airier than it was creamy/cheesy. Ringing in at $4.39 plus tax, I must admit that its steep price point had not been warranted.

Between cravings of skewers, sashimi, and sake, I determined that an izakaya would be the most fitting choice for dinner. From the doors of Paris Baguette, Nomé was observed as being impossibly busy, with a sizable crowd in the vestibule awaiting seating. Utterly uninterested in waiting for a table, I led the way to Kinka, the closest establishment in the vicinity.

My last visit had been made almost ten years ago (!), in 2015, prior to the rapid expansion of the Kinka Family Group. Frankly speaking, there hadn't been a reason to revisit that specific location, for parking was treacherous and its geographic coordinates weren't in close proximity to other POIs along Yonge Street.

​Upon entering through the double doors, I was surprised to be handed a black, hardcover menu as opposed to the laminated booklet with calligraphy-like Kanji I had been expecting. In addition to the tri-fold booklet, the hostess also gestured towards an omakase set menu priced at $88 per person and a Today's Special list. There was little to no context provided, prompting confusion and initial aversion towards the steeper price points.
I attempted to discreetly exit the facility and ring Nomé for seating inquiries. My call was answered, then immediately placed on hold. A few minutes would pass as I idly lingered in horrifically gusty conditions, while my browsing partner remained within the eatery, awaiting my decision. The call was ended shortly afterwards, for I simply couldn't be bothered to stay on the line braving blustery, single-digit temperatures.

​My re-entry was met with a lack of available tables, for they were either reserved, occupied and entailing a 20-minute wait, or retained for larger groups of four to six. Instead, the hostess brazenly pointed towards the bar seating. I wasn't fond of her unapologetic nonchalance, yet had limited options on the table, literally. A preference for a quieter section of bar seating was expressed, and we were ushered towards a corner spot for two. Given that servers would only venture towards the section for bill printouts and retrieving booster seats, the arrangement ultimately proved quite cozy. Though, the most critical element was the ability to hold a conversation without screaming in the other party's ear.
Noteworthy were the hooks installed underneath the counter, which were strangely close to the wall of the preparation area. I had braced myself for a grotesque view of gum and sauce on the underside, but thankfully found the area spotless.

View the full album HERE !

​The bar stools were constructed of a black metal frame, complete with a wired compartment for bag storage (or resting feet, as patrons often do) and a wooden seating platform with a low back, akin to Midori but narrower in width.

As the hostess departed, she noted a two-hour seating limit for the bar. Meanwhile, the tables would be subject to a 90-minute limit, depending on upcoming reservations.

Our waitress, whom I believe to be named Jada, was just about the opposite of the hostess: friendly, helpful, informative, and prompt. She responded to my countless questions with precision, and also accommodated indecisiveness/uncommon requests with impressive professionalism.
We would learn from her the details regarding the comprehensive rebranding, which nixed the izakaya concept in favour of a more refined eatery. The process had apparently come into effect about three months ago, with a gradual rollout to all locations except Kinka Original on Church Street. The decision had supposedly stemmed from a surge in similar businesses in the vicinity (presumably the Korean-operated, soju-centric bars) along with a desire to introduce "higher quality" ingredients to the menu. Accompanying the change was a new logo and more refined font: sans-Serif fine lines versus bold strokes with rough edges. The intention had been to adopt JaBistro's comparatively refined image, while JaBistro would take on an even more sophisticated image to compete against the likes of Miku. In other words, loudly announcing the arrival and departure of customers or chanting for sake bombs had been phased out. The menu had also been streamlined to include only the most popular and "classic" Kinka items, such as Kakimayo and JFC aka Karaage.

​Sunday evening saw low traffic volumes, enabling uninterrupted chats and debriefs.
Further interesting trivia tidbits included NEO Coffee Bar also being part of the Kinka Family group, but operated by the son instead of the father. Having personally witnessed the opening of two new downtown locations of the coffee shop, the group's swift takeover of Toronto was undeniable.

​Drink orders were taken to start. My browsing partner opted for the Momo Spritz, one of three recently launched mocktails on the menu. The two-toned mixture of honeycrisp apple, peach, apple cider vinegar, and soda was topped with a dainty sprig of baby's breath and just enough ice for temperature control.
Mocktails are often regarded with decidedly low expectations, however the Momo Spritz took me by sheer surprise. The formula was unique in that the body was refreshing while its ending note was a tad savoury. Apple cider vinegar hadn't contributed the stark, pungent acidity I had expected, but rather a mellowness that readily enhanced other constituents of the beverage.

​Meanwhile, I was faced with dilemma of a twenty-dollar portion of Miyakanbai or a seventeen-dollar Joyo 60 plus Kuronama Lager, though eventually settled for the latter on the bases of diversity. Within minutes of ordering, our server returned to announce that less than 150 ml of the bottle was available. Eagerly negotiating a pro-rated price for the quantity in the glass, I had been promised a price of $13 in proportion to the glass' contents. (This was later forgotten, of course, and the bill was settled before I had an opportunity to review and inquire.)

The Joyo 60 paired exquisitely with our Salmon Carpaccio starter. The selection struck me as being delightfully fragrant. It embodied impressive aroma combined with a compelling, lighter profile (compared to Hakutsuru). Needless to say, I enjoyed it thoroughly.
​I had been informed that the sake could be served hot or cold. The waitress expressed a personal preference for the fluid warmed, but noted that the chilled rendition could be served first, then heated afterwards should I desire a different temperature for consumption. In fear of further loss of the sake from transferral between glasses though, I adhered to the cold option.

​​Godspeed's Kuronama was as delectable as the first and second instances of sampling. There was minimal head and carbonation, but was nonetheless fizzy and flavourful, boasting compatibility with refreshing and rich flavours alike.

​Salmon Carpaccio arrived in a seemingly small portion, arranged at the centre of a steel blue ceramic dish. Camouflaged was an abundance salmon sashimi slices, which were coated thoroughly in a creamy sauce then neatly tucked into the mound. Unpredictable was the mountain of pickled onions and generous quantity of salmon roe. Equally unexpected were the mild properties of the ikura, being neither too salty nor too rigid/fatty. The shredded shiso was essentially flavourless, unlike those accompanying ssam wraps at Korean diners, and strictly served as colour variance within the dish.
It was worth remarking that, while raw onions often induce sore throats, those utilized in the appetizer has been soaked adequately, thus removing their unpleasant "rawness" and instead injecting a dose of acidity while preserving crunch.

Between Miso Black Cod and Fish Kama, I had voted in favour of the latter, sheerly on the basis of economics as the evening was devoid of a reason to splurge. On offer were choices of yellowtail or sea bream. Our server noted yellowtail as the fattier choice, which basically affirmed our decision.

Alas, the grilled hamachi collar I had yearned for revealed itself vastly different from JaBistro's version. Kinka has taken to serving the piece in a shallow dish, submerged in an exceptionally sweet pond of soy and mirin. The surface had been grilled, but regrettably burnt along the sections of reduced surface area. This translated to a bitter taste that could not be remedied by the cloying condiment. Most importantly, the skin was not crispy, albeit boasting an promising sheen and crinkly skin. Its flesh was tender, but overwhelmed by the soy-mirin solution. Going the traditional route with a glaze and grated daikon would have proven more preferable.

​We took to the Assorted Aburi Sushi and Wagyu Roll sets for entrées, each tile platter bearing eight pieces in total.

Decently acquainted with the Aburi approach since their introduction into the North American dining scene, I was quick to observe the shocking similarities between Kinka's newly devised sharing platter and JaBistro's identically-named array. The sole difference in naming was the conversion of "JaBistroll" into "Kinka Roll".

​My palate was met with was minimal newness, yet I tried to keep an open mind while sampling the assortment. Despite bearing different garnishes, the Saba (Mackerel) was as tasty as I recalled: nicely charred along all edges with a pickled ginger condiment. Adorning the adjacent servings were buttery salmon, chewy ebi (think shrimp salad with a dash of herbs), and tobiko-covered maki.

​The Wagyu Roll was an octet awaited with great enthusiasm. After all, eight pieces had set us back a whopping thirty-four dollars!
Thin, tender strips of beef were torched lightly to accentuate marbling, then draped over bite-sized maki. A dollop of orange (spicy?) sauce and paper-thin round of jalapeno were then arranged on top. The rolls were structurally sound (read: easy to pick up) and delicious, though, contradicting the menu description, one could taste neither uni nor crab - nor salmon for that matter. 

​Plucked from the Today's Special listing was a Vanilla Ice Cream & Yuzu Cream for dessert. There wasn't a particular specimen that piqued my interest, so I merely took to the complimentary Matcha Panna Cotta that would provided upon provision of a Google review.

The stripe of silky yuzu cream was likely the highlight of the first dessert. Zesty yet somehow creamy as well, it contrasted against the somewhat damp (graham?) cookie crumble and rather basic scoops of vanilla ice cream. While I had raised an eyebrow towards the inclusion of "dried meringue", the accompaniment was crisper than that of typical meringue kisses, exuding better texture and reduced sweetness levels.

​The Matcha Panna Cotta was served in a clear glass, similar to those used for sake but with a wider opening. Authentic panna cotta does not require a vessel for serving, as it should be structured enough to be inverted onto a plate, yet creamy enough to not pose resistance against a spoon. Kinka's variation had already failed the visual evaluation.

Truthfully, the concoction leaned more towards a haphazardly assembled pudding cup. Mushy strawberries and untoasted desiccated coconut were arranged on top of a loose matcha cream, which was supported by a firm, over-stabilized milky jelly. Where one layer utilized an excessive amount of gelatin, the other lacked depth. There was barely any bittersweet grassiness, in spite of its name.

​Skewered frozen grapes in a ceramic vase sealed off the meal, arriving at the time of payment.

​Individual washroom stalls were found at the back (east end) of the establishment. There were four stalls in total: Men, Women, Genderless, and Accessible. The accessible facility was, reasonably, the most spacious of them all and, shockingly, very clean. The sink was spotless; mouthwash with mini clear cups were neatly positioned in a wooden tray adjacent to the space, along with toothpicks.

The latest visit to Kinka Sushi Bar Izakaya was one brimming with unforeseen occurrences. In place of izakaya fare was a glimpse into JaBistro's former menu. Sake flights and sake bombs had also been eliminated entirely in favour of single glass/bottle offerings. Although the upscale conversion warranted the proposed price points, I'd deduce a loss of identity amidst the transition.
From the cumulative experiences of a former city explorer, Kinka's revised concept lacked individuality. Service has been stellar and the environment welcoming, but, as a diner, I had tremendous difficulty dissociating from the image and expectations set forth by JaBistro. Without incorporating distinctive elements of uniqueness, Kinka was, at the moment, just a copycat of its fancy, anglerfish logo-wielding cousin.

It pains me to describe the eatery in such a manner, therefore I can only hope that any upcoming changes are made in the direction of growth and development.