What Kind of Restaurant Are You, Anyway?

This is one of those questions that seems simple—until you actually try to answer it.

We're a vegan restaurant. But despite what critics and meatheads may assume, that doesn’t mean our entire clientele is vegan. Given the actual statistics around veganism in the U.S.—let alone Cleveland—that would be... improbable, to put it kindly. Sure, many of our customers are vegan. But most are just folks who dig good food, whether or not it once had a face. So yes, we’re a vegan restaurant. But clearly, we’re more than that.

We’re also an Asian-fusion restaurant. That means we specialize in dishes that lean on traditionally Asian ingredients, techniques, and flavors—but we let them mingle, travel, and evolve. Take, for instance, our Bangkok tacos (papaya salad and massaman curry walk into a tortilla) or the Chick’n Katsu Sando (a Japanese cutlet meets the American chicken sandwich, both with immigrant roots).

Originally, we leaned into Asian fusion by accident. Back in our pop-up days, we wanted to feature the flavors we loved. But when you’re cooking for a Cleveland bar crowd, sometimes that means tucking daikon cakes beside nachos and hoping for the best. Still, we kept at it—bringing new dishes to town, from Sha Cha Noodles to Onigirazu specials. In time, “Asian fusion” came to mean more than just flavor mashups. It meant honoring all the places we’ve been and the communities we’ve lived beside along the way—through Korean Reubens, Wasabi Pierogi with Katsu sauce, and everything in between.

And then there’s the scratch kitchen part. We don’t serve Beyond Burgers, Follow Your Heart cheese, or Just Egg. We make almost everything ourselves—though we do lean on local gems like Cleveland Tofu. In truth, plant-based cooking is Asian fusion at its core. Tofu, tempeh, and seitan? All have Asian origins. Good food has always been a cultural exchange: immigrants carrying their flavors to new places and planting delicious roots. We’re continuing that story—honest and fresh, using what we learned from those in the communities that fed us along the way.

So let’s recap. We’re a vegan restaurant that caters to everyone. An Asian fusion spot, however you define it. A scratch kitchen. And yes, we’re a small, family-run business too.

By “family-run,” I mean this: my wife Frances is our pastry chef, our front-of-house lead, and the keeper of the books (plus she works a full-time job that, frankly, keeps the lights on). I handle the rest: prep, ordering, pickups, social media, and all the glorious chaos that keeps the wheels turning. We don’t have kids—who has time or health insurance for that?—but this shop has been wreaking havoc like a mischievous toddler or cranky grandpa for years. Our team of 3–4 hardworking souls feel like family too, though that’s a restaurant cliché if ever there was one.

We also walk that strange tightrope between casual takeout and fancier plates—between comfort food and date-night dishes—all while operating out of the only space we could afford: a glorified hole-in-the-wall. It’s not glamorous. It’s too small, too hot in the summer, and the fridges sigh louder than the staff. But somehow, it’s home. And it’s the kind of place where Tofu Wings and Mushroom Scallops on a bed of yuzu edamame spread coexist in peace.

So yeah, we’re a small, family, scratch-based, vegan Asian fusion restaurant.

But we’re also a part of something bigger. A community of regulars who show up rain or shine, fellow business owners trying to do good work, and the quiet undercurrent of activism that’s always shaped our choices.

So if you’re asking what kind of restaurant we are, I suppose we’re a community-rooted, scratch-cooked, vegan-but-not-just-for-vegans, Asian-fusion, hole-in-the-wall, family-run, activist-led operation with a soft spot for comfort food and a few fancy plates.

Or maybe we say we’re a vegan restaurant… and call it a night.