Fans of my work know that I always write about food.
It’s partly because I’m a foodie in real life and partly because food is such an intrinsic bonding experience for many. However, finding a medium and world where it made sense was difficult, with a number of false starts over the years.
Then, I decided to stop worrying so much, revisit an old universe and just write.
The Nameless Restaurant is the result of that. A little love letter to cozy works where the plot – what there is of it – meanders, the focus is on the food and descriptions and the characters.
If you walk away from the book feeling hungry, my job here is done.
About the Book
There is a restaurant in Toronto. Its entrance is announced only by a simple, unadorned wooden door, varnished to a beautiful shine but without paint, hidden beside dumpsters and a fire escape. There is no sign, no indication of what lies behind the door.
If you do manage to find the restaurant, the décor is dated and worn. Homey, if one were to be generous.
The service is atrocious, the proprietor a grouch. The regulars are worse: silent, brooding, and unfriendly to newcomers. There is no set menu, alternating with the whim and whimsy of the owner. The selection of wine and beer is sparse or non-existent at times, and the prices for everything outrageous.
There is a restaurant in Toronto that is magically hidden, whose service is horrible, but whose food is divine.
This is the story of the Nameless Restaurant.
The Nameless Restaurant is a standalone novella set in Tao Wong’s Hidden Universe.