Take a hot young chef, a slightly potty professorial father living in Stanley Park and researching its inhabitants, a coffee baron a-la-Starbucks, a sous-chef, and a social climber, and you get Timothy Taylor’s Stanley Park.

He’s thrown in an unsolved murder of two young children for good measure, and made only the slightest attempt to tie it all together.

There are good scenes, it’s about food (though the foodie stuff didn’t ring very true to me, it did to a chef friend of mine, so there you have it), it’s about bucking the establishment, it’s about compassion.

But it’s also about nothing, and so… it took me a long time to read it because I never really got into it, and didn’t really enjoy it. So yes.