I loved this, even more than I expected to. Set in a fictional beachside town on the North Island of NZ, this book delivers humour, warmth, a little tension, a side of romance and so much food it had me salivating.
Lia and her best friend Anna have been running their cafe for a couple of years. The summers are hectic, but the hard work is paying off and bringing great success. This summer has been a particularly busy one as they prepare for Anna's wedding to Lia's twin, Rob, in March. The arrival in town of a handsome stranger takes Lia's mind off her annoying ex, Isaac, who can't seem to accept that their short relationship is over. Throw in a hippy mum, a taciturn dad and various nosy and/or eccentric townsfolk, and Lia's life is full, but not without occasional complications.
In what I thought was a break with tradition, the story got a bit darker than I expected towards the end, but then finished with a satisfying, upbeat conclusion.
There were 3 main things I liked about this book. Firstly, Danielle Hawkins does characters/relationships very well. These characters were very real to me - I know people just like them! Lia's dad, for example (significantly older than her mum, and divorced since the twins were little) - Talking to my father on the phone is a bit like playing tennis with someone who catches the ball and stuffs it into his pocket rather than hitting it back to your end of the court. This made me laugh, as my own dad can be just like that at times!
Secondly, the sense of place. I read this while on a mini-break in NZ, and although the town of Ratai is fictional, it enjoys a real location that I could totally recognise in my imagination. The language was authentic, and the cafe scene was spot-on.
Finally, I have to mention the food! If I lived near Ratai I would spend my days hanging around Lia's cafe... They excel in their homemade baked goods, but there's more than that. Even the coffee read enticing. Here's an excerpt from one of Lia's busy mornings:
‘Okay!’ I spread my slices of bread with garlic butter, put them on a tray and slung them under the grill. Took the ice-cream cake out of the freezer, cut two slices and topped each one with a handful of raspberries and a chocolate curl. Carried them to the counter, smiled at a waiting customer, returned to take another pizza out of the oven. Turned the garlic bread, burning my knuckle on an oven rack, and dressed a green salad to go with the pizza. Dusted a plum tart with icing sugar, sliced it and put it in the display cabinet to fill a gap where the last piece of ginger crunch had just been taken. Refilled the coffee beans, fetched another bottle of trim milk, rescued the garlic bread from under the grill before it burst into flame, made a chocolate milkshake, plated up another wedge of ice-cream cake, arranged the garlic bread in a basket – ‘That’s for Chelsea Stewart,’ I told Mum, shoving it towards her as she reappeared around the end of the counter.
And then, at the end, Hawkins gifts us a few select recipes so we can recreate the Pretty Delicious Cafe at home. Choice.