Vale, Vancouver | DAY 4

On my fifth day, I was determined to break the trend of greasy Chinese food loaded with sodium. When provided the privilege of cuisine choice, I hesitated not in proposing Japanese, or some form of it, at least.

In the past year, the Richmond-Brighouse area had welcomed an abundance of new mixed-use residential complexes, complete with at-grade retail establishments. At the base of one of the new buildings was Sushi Lovers, a colourful eatery with budget finds and basic offerings.

Striding in, we were welcomed by a strong whiff of cooking fumes. The waitress gestured to a table immediately next to the door. While I wouldn't have minded the location normally, its proximity to the open concept kitchen and corresponding cooking odours had me silently wrinkling my nose in disgust. We requested for one of the booths along the windows, only to receive the grumpy response of "There are only two of us working today. I can sit you there." The waitressed shoved us back towards the original table assignment in utter disregard. Her complaint towards waitstaff scheduling also took me by surprise: Why should I care that there are only two people?

"We can wait." I told her, pointing towards a table with stacked dirty dishes.
"Alright" she replied, grudgingly.

​I cast quick glances around the room. For a Monday afternoon, the dining floor was quite busy, but not unmanageable. Each booth included a minimum of one soiled furry friend, likely to fulfill the role of companionship. We were gestured towards a window seat some few minutes later. Yet another onigiri occupied the seat - this one slightly less tarnished.

​Scanning the laminated menus, Sushi Lovers was discovered to be extremely affordable. I raised an eyebrow at the Wagyu, O-Toro, and Chirashi mentions, doubting their authenticity given the establishment's overall aura. Between three people, we opted to share a Salmon Goma-ae ($11.00), Oyako-don ($13.95), and Chirashi Don ($22.95). In being informed that the spinach-based appetizer was unavailable, the waitress redirected our attention towards the pricier $12.95 Sashimi Salad.

​Having entered the premises with high hopes, I must admit that the presentation of the requested items incited disappointment. Components of the Chirashi Don were practically identical to that of the Sashimi Salad: sliced instead of finely chopped, muted instead of vibrant and visually attractive, and utterly devoid of decorative garnishes besides a single shrivelled shiso leaf.

The sashimi was quite basic: satisfactory yet far from impressive. Few deviations were noted between the Sashimi Salad and Chirashi Don; neither were particularly memorable.

​Oyakodon had assumed a spot on the cravings list since prior to arrival, lending keenness towards the menu listing. Unfortunately, the entrée was nothing more than under-seasoned runny egg over short-grain rice. The coveted combination of sautéed sweet onions and dashi-infused egg was absolutely absent. Suffice to say, I was relieved to have steered clear of the customarily costly items of wagyu and toro. The price was accurately reflected in Sushi Lovers' portions.

​During our short-lived stay, cooking fumes continuously permeated the dining area. Upon departure, we realized the intensity of the odours - each and every thread had picked up the atrocious smells, lingering for hours - and even days! - onward.
The bathroom was not visited, thus no comments can be provided. 

​Reluctantly relinquishing fifty cents for a takeaway container for the remaining Oyako-don, we exited the premises with fume-related gripes and semi-satisfied stomachs. A downpour began to descend, however I quickly proposed a stopover at a newly-opened homeware boutique named prunus before heading back.
The trek barely spanned five minutes, yet my jacket and pants quickly grew damp. Ironically, prunus was discovered to be closed upon arrival. Quickly pivotting to the nearest café, I briskly darted towards cafe & life co.

A gorgeous, spacious space resided behind the glass doors. The beauty of the interior far surpassed the handful of mediocre images on Google Maps. The barista beamed as she approached me, "Hi! What can I get for you?" The attitude offered a stark contrast to that of Sushi Lovers.

I admitted that I'd need some time to review the options occupying the display case. Other members of my lunch party joined me shortly afterwards. We collectively took to the following:

• Basque Cheesecake
• Black Forest Roll Cake
• Hojicha Mocha
• Americano (with Oat Milk in the absence of cream)

​The café was strangely serene for a Monday afternoon, however the sole member of staff worked swiftly to serve both dine-in and delivery orders until a second barista joined.

​Bathrooms were conveniently located near the entrance in the form of individual stalls. Edged with artificial shrubbery and fitted with an oceanic air freshener, the facilities were a blissful upgrade from the debatably toilet paper- and soap-devoid equivalent in Taiwan. Not to mention, the stalls were clean!

​The Hojicha Mocha was priced at a startling $8, plus $1.25 for oat milk, making for a total of $9.71 after PST. Although I had my reservations at first, the beverage was later justified by its generous portion size and spectacular profile.
​Delectable in all regards, the innovative concoction was compelling and unfathomably fragrant without excessive sweetness or hints commercial sweetness. The toasty beverage had successfully combined the robustness of hojicha with the silkiness of an indulgent mocha - or, in this case, hot chocolate, since espresso was eliminated in favour of aerated hojicha. It is recommended to enjoy this pricey pick on the day of crafting, for it becomes oddly bitter if left overnight.

​Piping hot were the Americanos. Although I did not sample, I was informed that the coffee was delightful and of a satisfactory temperature.

​The cakes were revealed upon returning.

​Visually attractive was the Black Forest Roll Cake. The two-toned cream was particularly impressive, for it not only maintained it shape throughout transport, but embraced the distinctive profiles of chocolate and vanilla. Contrary to its appearance, the chocolate sponge base was exceptionally dry, while the raspberry cream was light but nonetheless rich. The filling was beautifully rosy in hue, but otherwise did not appear tragically difficult to create.

​I had already been captivated by the Basque Cheesecake at first glance. When I passed a forkful across the tip later on, it was indeed confirmed to be spectacular. The surface was blackened to perfection without incorporating any bitterness whatsoever. Meanwhile, the interior was uniformly supple and extraordinarily creamy - a truly formidable achievement! Needless to say, I was impressed, especially seeing as my own basque cheesecake attempts have resulted in more subpar creations than comprehensive successes.

​Similarly decorated with freeze-dried raspberries, the Mini Flat Croissant was scrumptious. Flaky, crunchy, and moderately sweet, the creation harnessed the buttery indulgence and gratifying texture of traditional croissants with the messy shatter of crumbs.

​Feeling a tad sluggish in the afternoon, I began to search for nearby fitness opportunities. J Pilates surfaced from my search; the proximity of their studio and $79 Intro Pack for group classes caught my attention immediately. I signed up for a 4 PM J Classic, then gradually made my made over around the 3:30 PM mark.

​At first, I had confused the studio location with Halo Pilates, which operated at grade level within Atomic Fitness. A member of staff redirected me to the lobby of the mixed-use building, explaining that J Pilates was located on the third floor as opposed to having a street entrance.

As I searched for the elevator, it dawned on me that I had missed out on Halo's $19.99 group class special for the first Monday of the month. Future visits to the Richmond Oval area were already uncertain, and chances of aligning with the first day of the month even slimmer.

​J Pilates occupied two office units on the third floor: one for private and semi-private classes, and the other for group classes and Gyrotonic. Washrooms were shared amongst all units on the floor, similar to medical offices and STAR Dance, and relied on physical keys for access (not number code). They were passable in terms of cleanliness, but would not be considered comfortable for changing clothes. The flooring seemed relatively incomplete for the adjacent retail establishments, with building permits still taped to the door(s). J Pilates also featured an exposed concrete ceiling with all construction markings intact. A draped piece of fabric and warm-toned lanterns attempted camouflage of these exposed areas.

​The J Classic session comprised of three participants, including myself. As the class progressed, it became increasingly obvious that they did not practice pilates regularly. My neighbour struggled with the white spring for basic upper body exercises, even falling forward under the lightest tension spring. Neither exercised with proper form, wholly ignoring the instructor's reminders. Admittedly, I was surprised to see that the instructor had not rectified the plank positioning for my neighbour, but was quick to identify my scrunched shoulders and potential for greater core engagement.
Her routine combined beginner level pilates at low spring tensions (white for upper body and blue for lower body) with flow (stretch) elements. For the second half of the class, I switched to blue springs for shoulder, upper back, and rotator cuff exercises to better align with my fitness needs.

​At the conclusion of the session, the instructor praised my diligence, and we even bonded briefly over enrolling in trial classes while on vacation to continue practicing pilates. She was a capable instructor, though the level of the class participants had prevented the session from becoming too strenuous.