Roselle Lim is cooking up something good and you're going to want to take a big bite of it. The author, who is also making her YA fantasy debut with Celestial Banquet, is partnering up with Ayesha Curry's Sweet July Books for her next big release. And this new power duo is bringing their love for food and books to a whole other level with this very special treat.
Cosmopolitan has an exclusive first look at Roselle Lim’s Celestial Banquet, which is set to be released on June 3, 2025. The book follows young chef Cai who hopes to win a special cooking competition so she can open her own restaurant. But the stakes couldn't be higher especially since the judges are the Major Gods. Here’s some more info from our friends at Sweet July Books:
Iron Chef meets The Hunger Games in Roselle Lim’s dazzling YA fantasy debut, following a young noodle chef who competes in a cutthroat cooking competition for the gods.
“Celestial Banquet is a magical and delectable adventure through a culinary landscape rich in East Asian tradition. It is also a very real look at family, home, and how food ties into both, with an empowered and resilient teen girl at the center. Equal parts action-packed and heartfelt, I cannot wait for readers to devour it.” ―Ayesha Curry, Sweet July Books
Once every generation, the Major Gods hold a Celestial Banquet, inviting chefs from all over the Continent to prepare mouthwatering fantastical feasts. The winner is awarded the fabled Peaches of Immortality, along with a lifetime of fame and fortune. The losers perish per the whims of the fickle gods.
Hot-headed noodle chef Cai enters the competition with dreams of owning her own restaurant and supporting her impoverished Peninsula town. Along with the drunken Minor God Kama, her childhood crush-turned-friend Bo, and dreamy noble Seon, Cai must now compete against the Continent’s finest culinary masters in trials that range from hunting and serving up mystical sea serpents to preparing a magical omurice from the eggs of the legendary Jian bird.
Battling impossible odds and inconvenient feelings for both Bo and Seon, Cai is determined to prepare a feast fit for the gods―even if she loses her life. Set in a spectacular world inspired by Chinese and Southeast Asian folklore, Celestial Banquet is an ode to food, home, and family, wrapped in an epic and thrilling adventure.
And we know that you're absolutely hungry to find out more which is why we can also exclusively reveal the book's cover which is certainly a meal fit for the gods!
You can definitely also get your cake and eat it too thanks to a special excerpt that you can check out below. Just make sure to pre-order Celestial Banquet and also check out some of Roselle's previous reads as well!
An Excerpt From Celestial Banquet
By Roselle Lim
ONE
Inside the auction house, the air vibrated like a locust swarm. Kama, our local minor god, held court at the edge of the crowd, pushing off the followers trying to shower him with pricey culinary tributes. His magnetic, pupil-less eyes sparked with their own energy. It was the draw of legendary ingredients that brought him here—otherwise it was rare to see him up at this time.
The murmuring mass moved toward the podium for the day’s prize. My boss, Tondo the Tall, watched on the balcony reserved for restauranteurs along with his rival, Lao Sung.
I elbowed my way to the front of the crowd. A giant golden singing carp glistened in the dim dawn light, transforming the balcony gallery where the heavy purses of our city of Lupong’s restauranteurs waited—fingers itching to spend and snap up the best haul from the incoming Mutyan ships, into a prismatic rainbow. Truth be told, it was mostly held by their assistants—the rich couldn’t be bothered to rise before the scorching sun hung high in the sky.
For the rest of us in the Peninsula, coin wasn’t going to earn itself if you didn’t get up early. Someone would always be hungrier, ready to snatch opportunity from your hands. And the only way you could taste the faraway ocean was through the jewels Mutyan fishermen harvested from its depths. Every shell cracked and fish gutted yielded the briny perfume of endless water.
I raised my eyes to catch the signal my boss made. He tugged on his left earlobe to confirm the plan to acquire the carp. A female carp yielded a small number of eggs, and this particular rare species created a buttery, nutty roe that was prized by the nobility.
The buzz swept under my skin. I might get to taste this miraculous fish for myself. If I won the auction today, it’d be served up over a steaming bowl of seven treasure congee at Tondo the Tall’s flagship restaurant, the Majestic Isle—a glorious two-story building serving as a tribute to his maternal Mutyan Island heritage. Tondo the Tall thumbed his nose at the elite, poked prejudice in the eye, and won by succeeding as one of the three Mutyan businesses on the mainland. He will demand an exorbitant price from the nobles for this dish. Of everyone I worked for, he was the only one who earned my respect. It also helped that he was once best friends with my baba.
Workers moved to clear a tank of spiky purple eels to make way for the fabled carp, which was placed on a box of ice at the center of the room.
All of the prized goods in the auction house came with the adage “Buyers beware.” Everything was presented “as is.” The onus was on runners like me to inspect the goods before purchase. With quick jabs of my pointy elbows, I jostled to dislodge two interlopers flanking me. Everyone wanted a closer look, but nothing was going to stop me from my examination.
The carp’s scales shimmered, and its vacant eyes were glossy—indicating it was at the peak of health during capture. All eyes were on its distended belly and its promises of a cache. The last golden singing carp had sold three months ago, and it was male. It had commanded a steep price of seven hundred gold pieces. A female could fetch even more.
I leaned closer but was yanked back by my collar.
“Don’t even think about it, Cai.”
I recognized that jerk’s voice.
Junfeng was Lao Sung’s runner on the floor. He was seven years older than me and had the temerity only a firstborn noble could possess. While many considered him handsome, I would beg to differ. I’d rather clean the public outhouses for a year than give him the time of day.
“Keep your hands to yourself!” I smacked his arm away. “Don’t you have a doorway to darken or older noblewoman to woo?”
“Are you jealous?” He made a hasty confirmation signal to his employer above. “I’m winning the carp for Lao Sung. Don’t get any ideas.”
I snorted, craned over his shoulder to get a better view of the carp’s tail, and caught sight of the vent. There was something about it . . . Before I could examine it any further, Junfeng subtly tugged his ear, signaling that he had confirmed the carp’s sex as female.
Given Junfeng’s determination, the resulting price would be far too astronomical to risk, especially since it wasn’t my coin to spend. My boss had taught me that value was universal, while price was driven by emotion. I caught Tondo’s eye and scratched my left eyebrow. We’d bow out. His subsequent nod was almost imperceptible.
Bidding began at a cautious eighty pieces.
“One hundred gold pieces,” Junfeng cried. Then hissed in my ear. “A dirty Mutyan like Tondo will never win against Lao Sung.”
That did it. No one was allowed to talk garbage about my employer and get away with it. Junfeng and his elitist employer would pay.
I raised my hand with three fingers to increase the bidding to three hundred. I kept my eyes firmly on the auctioneer and prayed Tondo the Tall trusted me. This would only work if it seemed real. If not, I was gambling with someone else’s coffers—and my job.
Junfeng shadowed my movements. I kept raising the price until it climbed to one thousand pieces. It was between him and me—disproving his insult earlier about Tondo the Tall’s financial capacity.
“Fifteen hundred gold pieces,” Junfeng declared to a silent room. His face was flushed with triumph.
I shook my head and made an exaggerated gesture of defeat by stomping my feet.
The auctioneer pointed to Junfeng and declared him the win- ner. The rat pumped his fist and danced around with glee. Above him, Lao Sung scoffed at Tondo the Tall and readied to head down to the floor to examine his trophy. I ignored the corners of my lips that itched to smile.
“Cai!”
I turned my head and found Bo, my best friend, waiting nearby. He stood a head taller than everyone else and was still half a head shorter than my employer. He used his broad shoulders and size to weave his way through the crowd to my side. Bo came from a family of farmers living outside of Lupong. The scent of sunshine, sweet grass, and pine trees clung to his skin. His ink-dark hair was tied in a topknot, and his rugged features drew looks from the girls nearby.
“Wow. Is that a female carp? No wonder . . .” His words trailed off when he noticed my smirk.
I cupped my hand over his ear. “Somebody overpaid.”
Bo let out a low whistle and stared at the fish being handled by Lao Sung. “Did you do what I think you did?”
I winked.
After many bags of coin had exchanged hands, Lao Sung hoisted the big fish above his head to the roar of the crowd. Patience was a virtue that I never had much of, but today, I stretched out what little I possessed. They all waited to see the cache of precious roe. Too bad they’d be disappointed.
Tondo the Tall came down to the floor to join us where we watched the scene from a few feet away. His steps were light despite his size. He wore traditional Mutyan robes in woven gold and bronze batik, which contrasted against the silk robes of his peers. Fluid tattoos of water and waves covered his muscular brown forearms. He wore Mutya well and with pride.
“It’s a male, isn’t it?” Tondo the Tall turned to me with his lips tipped upwards. “And that cocky bastard paid twice as much. This is a delicious development.”
Lao Sung pulled up his silk sleeves. His long moustache twitched as he withdrew an ornate knife from his belt. He made a careful incision in the fish, hoping to showcase his prize for all to see . . . then cursed when he saw the belly, impressively thick and marbled with fat but empty of roe, not worth anywhere near the price he paid.
Tondo the Tall’s baritone laughter echoed in the large space and was soon followed by a chorus of jeers.
Bo clapped me on the shoulder. “How did you know?”
“The vent looked too clean and wide.” I gave him a smug grin. “I suspect it was cut by a paring knife. When something looks too good to be true, it usually is.”
The crowd dispersed when Lao Sung yanked Junfeng away, threatening to boil his bits in a soup.
“Be sure to boil the ones he’ll miss most,” Bo called out with a cackle.
I giggled.
A nobleman tapped Tondo the Tall on the shoulder, one I didn’t recognize. The embroidery on his sleeves and the quality of his scarlet and onyx robes implied he was from Xianling, the capital of the Continent. He whispered something unintelligible to my employer.
“Looks like I’ll see you tomorrow morning, Cai. There’s busi- ness afoot.” Tondo the Tall handed me a tiny wrapped packet. “Well done today. You deserve this.”
The two walked away and joined a cluster of restauranteurs waiting nearby.
“What do you think that’s about?” I asked Bo as I checked to see what I was given.
As if on cue, two young men in uniform hoisted a gold and scarlet banner across the highest beams of the room, prompting a collective roar that sounded like a monsoon, and my voice was amongst them, hoarse from emptying my lungs. In gilded script, it announced the opening of the Celestial Banquet. Oh my gods, it was finally here. Every day of this decennial year, I had been anticipating this moment, yet I still felt completely awestruck. Bo and I grabbed each other in a hug.
Today, of all days, I would be chosen to cook for the gods.
I had to be.
Folks could claim they served their dishes to dignitaries, kings, and empresses, but few had the impact of cooking for immortals. And it wasn’t only the honor that drew people to the banquet, it was its life-changing prize. The winners of the Celestial Banquet would each receive a priceless gift: a peach of immortality.
Three vertical banners in shades of jeweled green bearing the names of the major gods unfurled next—Luck, Temperance, and Indulgence. Everyone on the Continent worshipped the gods. They presided over our world but only came down every ten years for the competition—a legendary celebration of the vanquishing of Death. They were the arbiters of taste. Not only did they shape the culinary landscape, but their choice of whom to award the peaches had a far-reaching impact—the valuable prize provided the winning team the bargaining power to dominate or to defend. For me, it would mean making my dreams a reality and honoring my father’s dying wish.
All year, the upcoming cooking competition had been the chatter of the city. Gossip leapt from magistrate to merchant, from fishmonger to farmhand. Greed and the pure naked hope for fame and fortune—rose from rich and poor alike. If the team from the Peninsula won, it would change everything.
But our minor god, Kama, had already declared he wouldn’t be hosting a team. For some reason, even with the promise of a peach that would fuel his immortal power for the next decade and beyond, Kama refused to participate. He called the competition a “waste” and “childish.” I was determined to change his mind.
I wanted to compete, to win. I neededto win. And without him, my long-cherished dream was impossible. Each team needed an immortal sponsor—the minor god of their region—to formally represent the team in the competition. He didn’t realize how much was at stake, how much I wanted this. His behavior was akin to snatching a meal from a starving person.
Bo and I had it all planned out. If we were to win, we’d sell our peaches to the highest bidder—likely a minor god from one of the wealthier regions—and buy our own restaurant and farm in Lupong. I’d run the restaurant and Bo would work the farm, providing only the freshest spices and ingredients to our community. I wanted to honor my baba’s memory. After all, he was the best chef I’d ever known. To eat his food was a transcendent experience. I wanted to give that to everyone.
“Continent folk keep winning that damned competition,” Bo said, rubbing the short stubble on his square jaw. Ever since he’d started growing facial hair, he’d preened because it made him feel older.
“Agreed. But we can change that.” I distractedly picked at the sachet from Tondo the Tall to reveal a batch of tiny two-toned red-and-blue peppers shaped like daggers the size of my fingernails. I let out a quiet gasp.
Bo leaned in and admired the peppers. “What did Tondo give you? I haven’t seen those before.”
“They’re icy spicy peppers from the north,” I replied, trying to contain my excitement. If we were impressed by these, I could only imagine what we’d have access to at the Celestial Banquet. “They’re super rare.” I rewrapped the package and tucked it into one of the many hidden pockets of my robes.
“They’re supposed to be extremely spicy but have an immediate cooling effect. Can you imagine putting this into something unexpected like a savory mochi?”
Bo snorted. “Would it be as unexpected as the time you put dirt in my congee because you thought it smelled ‘mushroomy’?”
“That was one time when we were five.” I jabbed him in the ribs even as my cheeks flushed. The crowd around us had started to disperse. It was time to begin the day. Plus, I had better get cooking if I didn’t want to miss my chance to woo Kama. I tore my eyes from the banner.
“Shut up and just walk me to my stall.”
Excerpted from Celestial Banquet by Roselle Lim. Reprinted with permission of the publisher, Sweet July Books, an imprint of Zando. Copyright © 2025 by Roselle Lim. All rights reserved.
Celestial Banquet, by Roselle Lim will be released on June 3, 2025. To preorder the book, click on the retailer of your choice:
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