Horacio Marcello Fado always had a love for cooking. He learned everything he knew about it from his Mother. If you gave him a frying pan, and a box of mystery ingredients he would be good to go! That is one of the things that he liked to do in his restaurant. He enjoyed creating food that smelled so good that it made your mouth water – so delicious that you feel like you can't stop eating it or else you will never get to taste something so good – so succulent that it makes you not even want to take a drink of your water because you don't want to wash the flavor off of your tongue. This is what inspired him to open a restaurant as soon as he graduated out of Hogwarts. It took him a few years to find the right spot, gain the right amount of money, and create a menu that he knew people couldn't resist coming back for. But before he was 23, he had his dream of a restaurant and he was doing what he loved for a living.
Today marked the two-year anniversary of his restaurant being opened. Ni'Nin had a large banner hanging outside that read:
Two-Years Of Putting Food On The Table
Come in for a drink on us!
The chef in the kitchen was busy making a seven-course meal. soup, salad, appetizer, a beef plate, a chicken plate, a seafood plate, and finally the desert. He wanted this night to be special partially because he himself never thought he could keep a restaurant open for more than a year, and partially because of the people who didn't think he could keep a restaurant open for more than a month. He was at the two-year mark, and he was inviting everyone in Diagon Alley to join him.
He had a full bar, and he knew it would draw people in. During these times, very few people would say no to a free drink. Hell, Horacio liked to take a shot of tequila before opening every night! Tonight was going to be one of those two shot nights however. He didn't expect things to go perfect; things never went perfect. But, he did hope that he could have an event that people would remember.
Just as all of his prep work was complete, he made his way to the door. He tucked in his shirt, rolled up his sleeve, and opened the door ready to let the crowd rush in. He pushed the door open, and much to his disappointment there wasn't anyone in line. Instead, he was greeted with grey skies and rain pitter pattering on the cobblestone streets of Diagon Alley.
"Oh well, it is early," he told himself. After all, it was 5 o'clock, and many people would still be stuck at work. He moved back inside, flipped his sign from closed to open, and went back into his restaurant. A bottle of tequila was calling his name, so he moved his way behind the bar, grabbed a shot glass, grabbed some top-shelf tequila, and poured it into the shot. Just before he took the shot, he smelled the air. The aroma of his soup was already permeating the room. He knew people were coming, and he knew that they would leave satisfied. He brought the shot glass up, murmured "Saúde," toasted an invisible presence, and let the fiery liquid roll down his throat.