Vancouver Ventures | DAY 4: Mango Cream Cake, Parker Place + BGM K-Pop Class

Constructing celebration-worthy cakes while in vacationing has emerged as a priority over the recent years. Striving to craft a better product than my Layered Birthday Cake of instant coffee-infused sponge and Swiss meringue-stabilized whipped cream two years ago, I brought along a spatula and scraper.

Approximately thirty minutes would pass before I had assembled all the tools in the kitchen. From the mini rechargeable scale to Pyrex mixing bowls to cooling rack, not a single item had evaded being wrapped in a plastic bag or plastic wrap - or both! 
Already accessible was the hand mixer I had procured during the last trip. The rest of the starting procedures merely involved readying my workstation - a step entirely omitted back home due to regular instances of baking.​

The aim was to outdo La Patisserie's airy mango cream cake using the tried-and-true formulas and techniques established since its sampling.

The base would be none other than the "Perfect Chiffon Cake" from Sheldo's Kitchen. Tested throughout the years for layering and snacking purposes, it established its position in a recent execution of Mango Cream Cake that earned extravagant praise far and wide.

​A straightforward Chantilly cream, stabilized with just enough roux (read: an unmeasured amount likely averaging a tablespoon), would serve to frost the insides as well as the exterior.

​Surprisingly enough, preparing the mangoes constituted the most challenging segment. Three ripe mangoes were peeled, diced, and shaved in advance of assembly. While this would often require no more than five minutes in my own kitchen, the roster of tools available to me were not suited towards heavy handling of produce. I would find myself switching between two dull peelers, a spreading knife and pointed paring knife duo, and a mini cutting board while fumbling with loose working gloves acquired from OOMOMO.

​The mangoes were discovered on the tart side of the spectrum, thus were soaked in a sugar syrup while other components were underway. Due to the length of the mangoes, two layers of shavings would be summoned to cover the entire cake. Exposed areas at the bottom were left as is, though later investigation informed me of the bakery tactics used to camouflage the gaps, namely piping cream along the circumference in the form of star-tipped trails.

​Cake scraps and leftover mango pieces were formed into scoop-able "sidekick" cakes. The sponge layers would be dressed with the simple syrup used for soaking, which had become mango-infused in the process. These containers would chill for significantly less time than the main cake, and were ready for consumption within the hour.

​Most of the day had been spent baking, with only an intermission of frozen pizza for lunch.

​Operations would settle around the 2 PM mark, at which we'd depart for a quick trip around Parker Place, me debuting my new dark blue treads with grey highlights.

With its numerous entries, longtime occupants, and absolute mayhem of a parking situation, the one-storey plaza is comparable to New Kennedy Square back home, albeit harnessing much fonder memories and boasting a rooftop lot supplements with views and spaces that Markham's chaotic surface lot never could.

We strode through the food court, which has evolved minimally, if at all, over the years. Corridors housing an alteration shop, cosmetic boutique, household item retailer, and overpriced imported apparel for middle-aged ladies were also relatively unchanged.

Lucky Catch, one of possibly thousands of claw machine outposts in the GVA, piqued my curiosity for offering $1 plays. Of course, my loonie-priced attempt was in vain.

The short-lived saunter confirmed presence of a shockingly clean bathroom, the overall price of groceries, and the longevity of the laughter-inducing storefront of Soy Talk.

​Instead of moving the car to the Aberdeen Centre garage, I proposed undertaking a brisk walk over.

​A cake topper and candles would be procured from OOMOMO before retracing footsteps back.

​Then, I'd set out for BGM Dance Studio on foot.

​Since the previous evening's venture, I resolved to not only downloading the studio's dedicated app, but immediately enrolling in the following day's K-Pop class. Besides its convenient location, one of BGM's most appealing aspects was class organization. Without fail, each week's upcoming classes would be posted on the Sunday prior, allowing interested attendees to peruse the assortment and incorporate sessions of interest into their own respective schedules. Previews for these dances would also be uploaded to the studio's social media page, speaking to the specific section to be taught. The difficulty level (Intro, Beginner, Intermediate, etc.) and designated instructor would also noted with clarity.

Given my repeated dismal experiences with drop-in studios back home, I entered the facility keeping expectations low. The song of the day was NewJeans' Bubble Gum, a track wholly spurring neutrality for yours truly. All K-Pop classes were cover classes - as opposed to original choreo - unless otherwise stated. With this in mind, I was most interested the instructor's method of teaching. It is not uncommon for skilled dancers to excel at dancing, but not teaching dance.

Nancy appeared to be the go-to member for K-Pop dance covers, and even enacted a performance group of her own for various appearances around the city. Embracing idol-like visuals of a thin physique and pin-straight long hair, the instructor confidently strode into the studio with a smile in the minutes leading up to her class. The session would start punctually, and the door firmly shut as the warm-up sequence commenced.

Her teaching process was, admittedly, seamless. The movements were taught in two segments with slowed, trimmed audio clips at a relatively swift pace; the remainder of the sixty-minute session would then be used to become acquainted with the moves themselves, refining and ensuring on-beat timing. It was an approach that resonated with my own journey of learning, for seeing most, if not all, the movements first enables one to envision the final sequence.

Observed in my visits to VyBE and The Underground, the choreography was typically broken up into multiple parts, then rushed at the end due to lack of time. In contrast, Nancy was very good at explaining the moves in a short period of time, while also noting the vibe and tension/speed. There was minimal lag time, which encompasses everything from the instructor rewinding songs to "Just one moment - I forgot the choreography." and few water breaks. She was also receptive to class inquiries and utilized effective imagery as prompts - "a cutesy vibe, like popping a balloon".

Frankly, Bubble Gum hadn't been a choreography on my radar, but the opportunity to quickly learn and express the movements ultimately made for a fun and enjoyable session.

The studio was also equipped with A/C, in addition to two floor fans for improved circulation. In other words, the coolest position in the studio was in front row, diagonally behind the instructor.

Making my way back to the Oval, the afternoon breeze had vanished, and in its stead unapologetic, blinding beams of sunlight.

​The doors to Yi Fang were shuttered and blocked by a bench, nixing my opportunity to obtain an ice-cold cup of invigorating fruit tea.

​Continuing on my way, I arrived at T&T for sheet masks, Envy apples, and discount dinner. The compact location did not feature a self-checkout. With most cashiers closed, all traffic had been deferred to one checkout lane. Service was slow, but pleasant. The lady would confirm the need for parking validation tickets before proceeding to scan items.

​I returned from my quest with a Ham & Cheese Croissant Sandwich (intended for the following day), a shrink-wrapped Beef Brisket with Daikon, and a Lychee Yogurt beverage. 

The reduced-to-clear platter consisted of horrible overdone beef brisket, but palatable chunks of carrot and braised daikon. The Lychee Yogurt drink resided on the sweet side, but was not at all bad at $4.50.

​Later that evening, I would find BGM's class videos already uploaded to their Google Drive. Again, this degree of organization was foreign to me, and uncharacteristic of GTA studios. These clips were filmed by the receptionist, delineating the role of the instructor, and uploaded with the aim of documenting progress. These clips would not be used as promotional content nor posted to the studio's social media page, but rather provided reference for class participants to review their progress and continue to grow and learn with each class taken. With just one drop-in experience, I was already enjoying BGM more than any other studio.