The Nameless Restaurant

This originally appeared at The Irresponsible Reader.

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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, and whose food is divine.

What’s The Nameless Restaurant About?

If that description in the first paragraph wasn’t enough to make you disinclined to visit this restaurant—that “magically hidden” part should take care of it. Between its location and the wards inside, only a select few come in. Which is just the way the proprietor, Mo Meng, wants it.

The majority of his clientele are magical beings—or magic users—and his staff know just enough about that to understand the nature of their customers, and little else (sure, how else does their boss get some of those fresh and rare ingredients if not for teleportation).

On this one particular night in addition to some regulars—and a couple of mundane/muggle/non-magical people who stumble in—there are some new diners. A jinn, her companion/student, and three mages from the Council who are hunting for the jinn.

The novella isn’t about the diners, per se, it’s about Mo Meng and his establishment. They’re just who happened to be there that night.

Step Aside Cousin Carmy

For there were more important matters before her. Much more than the fate of the world. After all, dinner was here.

There are all types of magic that could be thrown around the restaurant—and a little that comes into play. But the real wonder-working is what Mo Meng gets up to in the kitchen, and the results that his waitress brings to the table.

Wong gets into detail when talking about the preparation of the food, the recipes, and so on. You know how you can watch a show or two on the Food Network and think you can prepare something like Alex Guarnaschelli? Well, when I finished this book, I could imagine that all I needed was to re-read a couple of paragraphs in this book (after buying a wok).

At the same time, when you read about the customers eating, smelling, or looking at his food? You’re going to want to grab a snack—if not a few entrées. I easily could’ve put on 5-10 pounds just from reading this if there’d been food within reach (I’m so glad this is a novella and not a full-novel, especially of the doorstop variety—I don’t think I could handle that kind of temptation).

So, what did I think about The Nameless Restaurant?

Sure, she had a healthy appetite—which, when you considered the fact that she was a purely magical being was both fascinating and annoying—but she had never been gluttonous.

Not till now, at least.

This is a spin-off of Wong’s Hidden Wishes trilogy—but you don’t need to be familiar with it at all to appreciate this (I haven’t read it yet and I did). Might it help? Sure, but not enough to prioritize it.

We do’t get a lot of time with any of the characters who aren’t Mo Meng (there’s just not enough space in the novella)—but we get enough enjoy them all individually, and be at least a little curious about them all (and hope they show up in future novellas if only to see their reaction to future dishes).

The magic circumstances surrounding and repercussions of real-world events that are explained over conversations between the diners are a fun choice by Wong.

There’s not much to say beyond this because of the length of the book—I really enjoyed it, I got hungry, and want to read more of this series and more of this world. Thankfully, I can fulfill the latter easily—I encourage you to do the same.