Vancouver Voyage | DAY 23: (Pt 2) Soft Peaks, Gastown, and Pearl Castle

Click HERE to read about exemplary Japanese-style spaghetti at Spaghetei!

Downtown, Gastown, and Chinatown are merely separated by a few major streets, but it's honestly quite amusing to find such distinct characteristics in each neighbourhood. Where the core is lively and colourful, Gastown is serene and quiet, making it the ideal tourist location.

One bus ride and a seven-minute walk through homeless-ville later, we arrived at Vancouver's version of the Gooderham building. To its right was Alexander Street, and to its left was Powell. Even further west was Water Street, which denoted the boundary between terrain and shore.

​With the aid of Google Maps, navigating the area in search of Soft Peaks was made incredibly easy. Before long, we spotted its gate-like entrance and bright yellow patio umbrella.

The interior was a work of art in itself. The two-floor dessert parlour featured a wall covered in black outlines of milk bottles and ice cream cones, a pillar supporting an LED screen displaying social media posts, and a mirrored menu board assuming the shape of honeycomb. The milky white cashier counter was equal parts order-taking area, popsicle display case, and self-serve water counter.

​Soft Peaks prided themselves in crafting soft serve creations, ice cream bars, and milkshakes with organic milk; the description was found in almost every corner of the shop. We had hunted down the shop for the sake of obtaining soft serve ice cream, so we proceeded as such.
They were offered in two sizes (Small and Regular) and could be customized with various toppings and syrups. The base of vanilla organic milk ice cream remained consistent though. Signature combinations were listed on the honeycomb; seeing that Green Forest and Honeycomb Peak seemed to have raked in the highest order count, we asked for two regulars without another thought. I wasn't too keen on red bean though, so I substituted Himalayan Pink Salt after confirming that there would be no extra charge.

​The staff, none of which appeared particularly friendly, prepared our orders at incredible speed. We swiftly carried the two pricey creations off to the side as the shop suddenly filled with eager ice cream-goers. "Luckily, we managed to escape the lineup!" both of us nodded in agreement.

Reality is vastly different from the image captured behind a lens. Mercury levels probably hadn't even grazed 24 degrees, yet both cups began melting almost immediately after they were presented to us. We struggled to capture the best shots of our elaborately decorated swirls before they transformed into a sad, toppling mess.

View the full album HERE !

​I had expected my first scoop of Green Forest to exhibit a mix of matcha and subtly sweet creaminess. This was not the case: a teaspoon's worth of the dessert had catapulted me into a world of unpleasant, stomach-lurching richness. There wasn't a hint of powdered green tea flavour either. The addition of Himalayan Pink Salt was successful in cutting the excessive creaminess of the organic milk base, but was still incapable of reversing the appetite-stalling effects.

Honeycomb Peak was actually an even poorer choice. Not only was the honeycomb extremely difficult to pry apart for consumption, the sugary drizzle made the concoction even sweeter and richer than it already was. I was back to Green Forest after one scoop, but even then, I couldn't make a dent past the halfway mark.
I suppose I understand why a few other customers chose the ice cream bars instead.

​The location and interior decor are flawless: sophisticated appearances score high amongst tourists. Unfortunately, the product itself utterly fails to impress. Service was lacklustre as well, making it impossible to justify its price point.
(My suggestion would be to save space for artisan liquid nitrogen ice cream at Mister instead.)

​Suffering from sheer satiation, we took to engrossing ourselves in the various souvenir shops and searching for the famous Steam Whistle before heading back.

Bear claw slippers, anyone?

Returning to Richmond, we settled for a quick dinner at Pearl Castle before parting ways.

As a restaurant operated by Chinese management, I hadn't expected the most hygienic environment, nor the best service or quality of food. Surprisingly, Pearl Castle satisfied most of these requirements with welcoming, efficient service and dilapidated but clean tables.

< Pictured above and below: Chicken Nuggets, Boiled Veggies w/ Meat Sauce, Kimchi Fried Rice, Rose Green Tea, and QQ Wintermelon Juice >

The term "QQ" differs for almost every bubble tea joint. At Chatime, it refers to a mix of tapioca and coconut jelly, whereas it might be used depict mochi elsewhere. My hankering for Wintermelon Tea led me to choose the QQ Wintermelon Juice, which, in actuality, was a horribly sweet drink with starchy noodles for toppings. Put simply, it was disgusting.
Yet to amazement, the Rose Green Tea was fantastic. Refreshing with a subtle hint of floral sweetness, it was much more enjoyable than the former monstrosity.

Food-wise, all three dishes were generously portioned and quite tasty. The platter of Kimchi Fried Rice could have easily fed a party of five. It was my second favourite of the evening: the addition of kimchi is normally nerve-wracking since it is impossible to estimate the amount of spiciness it brings. Thankfully, the dish was very mild, making it easy to incorporate into our low-spice Cantonese diets.

The blanched vegetable dish was fresh and a nice, healthy distraction from the insanely rich soft serve we had just ingested a few hours prior. Pearl Castle's Chicken Nuggets - aka Salt and Pepper Chicken - were even better than Green Grotto! The ping pong ball-sized pieces were juicy and well-seasoned; the thin layer of crispy coating made the dish even more enjoyable.

With the exception of my ghastly QQ Wintermelon Juice, I thoroughly enjoyed the experience. Pearl Castle has now officially been recognized as a economic dining option in the Richmond area with decent efficiency.

All was well until my dining partner and I bid farewell. As a result of my own stupidity, I had misread my bus schedule and missed the last ride of the evening for that particular route. I was aware of the option to trek to Richmond-Brighouse and take a transfer bus, though Translink only operated every thirty to forty minutes on weekday evenings.

Taking into consideration that their schedules were far from accurate, I summoned my willpower to walk home, three days' worth of takeout in hand. Partway, I began experiencing leg cramps and was forced to limp to the nearest bus stop and patiently interpret the route schedule. Both the mobile app and Google Maps provided live data that stated arrival times within 16 minutes, but the timer restarted from 22 minutes as the countdown neared the 2-minute mark. This continued to happen until, finally, the bus came into view and rounded the corner. But even then, a ten-minute trek was still involved to reach civilization.

Thanks Translink - your bus schedules surely deserve a round of condemnation.

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