Poong, a man whose entire identity was built on “future planning,” is terrible at this. And watching him fail, night after night, is strangely beautiful. No wok is an island. Wok of Love complicates its broth with two other lost souls.
“Who made this?” he whispers.
These four—the bankrupt chef, the flavorless heiress, the gangster baker, and the failed prodigy—form the most dysfunctional kitchen crew ever assembled. They fight. They steal each other’s mise en place. They throw ladles. wok of love
A title card appears: “The wok does not care if you are a king or a criminal. It only asks: are you ready to toss?” Poong, a man whose entire identity was built