I just wrote a review where I said that I usually love food-centered horror or thriller novels and then I promptly read one that I didn't like at all. Just my luck. The book started out promising, though. Of course I am intrigued when the main character finds a severed head in aspic in the very first chapter. The 1972 New York setting sounded interesting too and I was ready for a historical, culinary murder mystery starring a food critic turned investigator. But well, I liked nothing about it in the end. Not the characters, not the humor, not the writing. Especially not the writing. It was kinda messy and vulgar, constantly referencing things that I didn't understand and often switching topics from one sentence to the next. Maybe that's the authentic New York way of speaking, but I wouldn't know and it was not enjoyable to read. It also made me despise the main character, Bernice Black. I guess she was supposed to be a strong, independent woman doing whatever she wants in 1972, but she was honestly just annoying. It's also impossible to forget the year, because it's mentioned multiple times throughout the book and it's always people thinking to themselves that this is the year 1972 or talking to someone else about how the year is 1972. I honestly don't know either. It was also rather unnatural how long passages about Bernice's parents or friends were thrown in at random times. After I was so turned off by the writing and the main character, I wasn't able to care at all for the murder mystery that started out promisingly. Bernice finds the body of a famous chef and good friend of hers and I'm told that she is sad and grieving, but the writing doesn't transport these emotions at all. It's supposed to be a humorous book, fair, but don't tell me that she is upset when she decides right away to make some money off his death. Bernice starts to investigate the murder and wants to write about it, and by investigate I mean that she speaks to a bunch of characters that feel like caricatures. I really didn't care which one would turn out to be not only over-the-top and silly, but also a murderer. The book was overall way too unserious for me. Every time the author tried to handle more serious topics, like sexuality or grief, the whole discussion totally fell flat. I'm sure that it can be an enjoyable book for other readers, but I kinda got off on the wrong foot with it and never really recovered during the entire time I was reading it.
Huge thanks to NetGalley and Putnam for providing a digital arc in exchange for an honest review.