Swoony Sunday Book Review: "A Bánh Mì for Two"
Trinity Nguyen's debut sapphic romance is a tasty treat, with its romance nicely blended with a story of family, grief, and belonging.
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Warning: Full spoilers for the book follow.
Trinity Nguyen’s A Bánh Mì For Two was this month’s book for my queer romance book club, and I am so glad that it was! This was a fun and light sapphic rom-com set in Vietnam that, despite its frothiness and sweetness, manages to grapple with some pretty weighty issues surrounding immigrant identity, grief, and family. It might not hit every single note, but I’m glad that I read it. What’s more, I’m glad that the publishing world, particularly the queer romance part of it, is opening itself up to new types of stories and new experiences.
The central relationship in the book is between Vivi, a young Vietnamese-American student who, unbeknownst to her parents, goes to Sài Gòn in an attempt to learn more about her mother’s family. Lan, meanwhile, runs a bánh mì stall with her mother and cousin. While Lan loves writing–and is indeed the author of a hugely successful food blog–she hasn’t really been able to write since the death of her father. Once the two meet, however, their lives are changed forever, and they each have to deal not just with their feelings with one another but also all of the family drama lurking in the background of both of their lives.
As you might guess from the title, food plays a huge role in this book. This is particularly true for Lan, obviously, but it’s also true for Vivi, who finds herself connecting to her mother’s culture largely through its cuisine. Nguyen spends a great deal of time describing the food in luscious detail, and I don’t think you’ll be able to emerge from this book without your mouth watering. Even if, like me, you’re not hugely familiar with Vietnamese food, such is Nyguyen’s powers of description that you feel like you’re right there with the characters, encountering Vietnamese street food in all of its dizzying and delicious variety.
Just as important, the novel is about two extraordinary young women finding a romantic connection in the most unlikely of places, and one can immediately feel the amorous connection between Vivi and Lan. From the moment that they have their meet-cute it’s clear that there’s something potent between them, and it only grows as the novel goes on. It’s worth noting that this is sort of an insta-love story, in that they don’t spend too much time angsting about whether or not they will be able to make this romance work in the long term, particularly since they will still be living on other sides of the world once Vivi’s time as a study abroad student has ended.
Indeed, while I loved both of these characters and their relationship, I did feel that the romance was a bit rushed, and I would have liked the chance to spend more time with Vivi and Lan as they figure out just what their love is going to mean going forward. The scene in which they spend time at a festival–as well as their many meals together–do a lot of the heavy lifting in terms of showing us just how much these two characters feel drawn together and how their burgeoning love helps them come to terms with their various other struggles. For Vivi, this means finally meeting her mother’s estranged family while for Lan it means rediscovering her love of writing and finally accepting the death of her father. As so often in romance, love does a lot to help characters find happiness and make peace with their pasts and their futures.
Likewise, A Bánh Mì For Two also grapples with some weighty thematic issues. Both Vivi and Lan have some deep family stuff to overcome. In addition to grieving her father’s passing, Lan also feels obligated to stay with her mother, both because of the latter’s health issues and because of the fact that they both run the food stand together. Vivi, meanwhile, struggles with the fact that her mother stubbornly refuses to tell her anything about her own past in Vietnam, which has engendered in her a sort of split consciousness as she tries to figure out just where it is that she belongs and whether she can ever reconcile the American and Vietnamese parts of her identity.
Even though I read romance for escapism, I still love it when romance novels–particularly queer ones–grapple with these sorts of weightier issues. I’m also glad that we didn’t have to deal with homophobia, and it’s really quite refreshing to see the extent to which both character’s families just seem to accept them for who they are. That said, I’d be curious to see just how their relationship works out in the future, once they make it clear to both sets of parents that they’re in a relationship.
I do think that another 20-30 pages would have helped A Bánh Mì For Two, both in terms of a few of the pacing glitches that you can see here and there and for helping give some real closure to both their relationship and the broader family issues with which they’ve both had to contend. Indeed, the book ends with Vivi’s mother finally coming to Vietnam and reconciling with her own family, but the abruptness of it all comes as something of a surprise. I don’t know whether Nguyen has any intention of revisiting these characters and fleshing out their happy for now ending–and I am generally not in favor of this approach, at least not as it usually appears in queer fiction–but I wouldn’t mind spending some more time with Vivi and Lan as they plan out their future together.
That quibble aside, I found myself quite loving this little gem of a book. I think it’s safe to say that there’s a pretty notable dearth of South Asian voices in romance in general and queer romance in particular. Romance, like so many other genres, is at its best when it invites others to sit at the table and share their stories. I can’t wait to see what Nguyen comes up with next!