Full disclosure: I freely admit that I've lost most of my objectivity where this book is concerned, and that might be the best thing about it.
In so many ways, The Family Recipe feels like a watershed book for me. It wasn't until I was about halfway in that it hit me—I've never seen Vietnamese-Americans allowed to just be human beings in a piece of fiction before. I know it's been done before, and there are books out there by Vietnamese-Americans that I need to catch up on. But this was a first for me, and I'm a bit lost for words to describe how much that means.
When Carolyn Huynh says she writes messy people, she means messy. It's hard to like any of the characters right off the bat, though the crackling character voice of the first chapter (as well as the beautifully, stingingly on-brand descriptions of a Vietnamese-American mansion) made it impossible for me to look away. But Huynh digs right down into the core of each POV character, into what they want and what they wish were different, and who they wanted to be at one time. They're not the icky stereotypes of Vietnamese people that I grew up seeing in American media; they're not the model minority image that we're supposed to be to "earn" our place in the US. They're wacky and crazy, AND they struggle and dream and hope just like anyone else. And it's impossible not to root for them to find their healing. I related to Jane the most—oldest daughter, go figure—but I found I understood and wanted better for all of them by the end.
Also, Huynh is a fabulous storyteller. She juggles a million subplots and viewpoints, and brings them all together with constant twists and turns. I did find the pacing in some places felt a bit rushed, and I would have enjoyed a bit more development of the ending (particularly for Jude, who I did not expect to be so fond of—I was hoping so much that he'd be closer to finding joy and peace when things wrapped up). Given the nature of the plot setup, I'd really have loved to have seen parts of this book be allowed more room; to blazes with genre-based wordcount limits. And I'd be SO happy to see this as a TV series.
(And can we please have more cultural conversation about that KKK fiasco? The amount of history America conveniently kicks under the rug is wild.)
I'd heard so many Vietnamese-American reviewers rave about this book, and wasn't 100% sure whether I was going to connect in the same way since I didn't grow up in a Vietnamese-American community and still don't really have one outside my extended family. Honestly, one of my favorite things about The Family Recipe was that it reminded me that yes, being Vietnamese-American is actually a formative part of my life, even beyond the obvious things like food. I could cackle over the inside references and feel the disconnects and so much more. Again, this is where the subjectivity started to take over. And I'm realizing that's not a bad thing. The book reached me, which means it did its job.
If I had to sum my thoughts up, I'd say The Family Recipe is one of the most deeply humanizing books I've ever read. Not perfect, and that's kind of the point.
Content advisory: Family dysfunction, violence, racism, PTSD, a couple scenes where sex is implied, swearing (including f-words)