Take to back to the Gastronome! Now we’re talkin’ high-end grub, berk. Tucked away in the Market Ward amongst shops hawkin’ the ordinary and the bizarre, this surreal joint’s anything but mundane. It looks like a giant metal olive, copper tarnished to an elegant verdigris by Sigil’s incessant acidic rain. The establishment itself inside is a work of art. Seriously, step inside and the waiters will adjust every dish to your taste—literally! That’s all thanks to Celci Nugglebelly, the gnome illusionist chef who’s got more creativity in his little finger than a Sensate’s got senses.

This cutter’s not just a chef; he’s a culinary archmage. No, I ain’t just tossin’ words around. The berk’s got a talent for combin’ the arcane arts with gastronomy. Picture this: a sizzlin’ steak seasoned with illusory spices so potent, they trick yer taste buds into thinking you’re on another plane. One bite, and you’re tastin’ the winds of Pandemonium; the next, your tongue is sizzling like the Elemental Plane of Fire. And the mad part? They say the blood never cooks the same dish twice. Claims it’s against his “artistic principles,” or some such barmy chatter.

The cocktail selection also boggled my brain-box

Not just any berk can walk in, mind you. There’s usually a waitin’ list longer than the Harmonium code of conduct, and the prices? Let’s just say you might have to sell a soul gem to settle yer tab. But if you’ve got the readies, it’s worth every chunk of jink. Nugglebelly’s got a penchant for combin’ ingredients that ain’t even from the same reality, let alone the same kitchen. Rumour has it he once whipped up a dessert usin’ Elysian honey, Baatorian brimstone, and rainbow sprinkles from the Feywild. Tasted like yer first love and yer last heartbreak all rolled into one, so they say.

So, Gastronome? It ain’t just a restaurant; it’s a ruddy experience—a foray into tastes you didn’t even know yer tongue could comprehend. But remember, like anythin’ in the Cage, it comes with its own price. You ain’t just riskin’ yer jink; yer riskin’ gettin’ addicted to a dish you’ll never have again. Ah, the sweet, agonizin’ irony!

Brix recommends ate (and that means you won’t be able to):

  • First course was called “Eclipsing Embers“. It’s was a slab of phoenix tenderloin—aye, ye heard me right—from the Elemental Plane of Fire. This beauty’s served on a frozen plate hewn from ice of Stygia. The phoenix meat actually flares up and dies down in a loop, simulating its own lifecycle, while the plate keeps it all from gettin’ too toasty. One bite and you’ve experienced the essence of both rebirth and cold, unyielding death. Was it actual phoenix or some kind of illusion? I don’t care, cutter, it was amazing.
  • Then there was “Time in a Bottle,” which is less of a dish and more of a… well, an experience. It was a clear potion which served up memories of past meals. I gulped it down, and for a few precious moments, I was reliving the best meal you’ve ever had. And not just the taste—ye feel the atmosphere, hear the sounds, and even relive the emotions. Imagine sippin’ on nostalgia, eh? Leaves me wonderin’ whether I’d had a meal or a meditation session.
  • And the final course was called “Harmony and Discord,” a risotto of sorts, where every single grain of rice was from a different plane. One from Mechanus, another from Elysium, a third from Pandemonium, and so on. It’s as orderly and chaotic as a Blood War skirmish but on yer plate. Eatin’ it is like experiencin’ the Multiverse in every bite. I wasn’t sure whether I’d reached a state of enlightenment or started having an existential crisis halfway through the dish.

Just know that dinin’ at Gastrognome is like puttin’ yer senses through several elemental vortices at once—thrillin’, terrifyin’, and so flamin’ worth it. But do me a favour, will ya? If you ever snag a table, bring me back a doggy bag?

Canonical Source: Sigil and the Outlands [5e] p53.

Tabletop Map: Created by the talented TessaPresentsMaps, available here

Source: Jon Winter-Holt,

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