Book Review: Hangry Hearts by Jennifer Lee
When I first stumbled across Hangry Hearts, Jennifer Lee’s latest offering, it was the tagline—“Romeo and Juliet meets food, but no death”—that captured my imagination. As someone who is perpetually enchanted by stories that intertwine romance and the culinary arts, I knew I had to dive into this book. However, my anticipation was tinged with curiosity, especially after the author highlighted the importance of a sensitivity reader for the LGBTQ+ themes in the narrative, which brought me to wonder how effectively those nuances would translate on the page.
Set against the vibrant backdrop of Pasadena’s farmers market, the story revolves around Julie, a Korean American girl, and Randall, a Taiwanese American boy, whose grandmothers were once friends but are now bitter rivals. Suffice it to say, the tension is ripe as food stalls sparkle with competitive energy and familial expectations. This premise, while brimming with potential for humor and heart, unfortunately settled into a rhythm that felt a little dull and predictable for me.
As the tale unfolds, we witness Julie and Randall first navigating their families’ rivalry and then stumbling into a sweet romance. But here’s where my interests began to wane: the stakes felt low, and the so-called "drama" seemed rather distant from the more authentic and relatable teen experiences I’ve cherished in other YA literature. The dynamic where 626 kids cross over into the 310 for love felt more absurd than adventurous, particularly for someone like me who rarely strays outside of my beloved Westside.
One of the book’s strengths lies in its rich cultural elements. From mouthwatering descriptions of the food stalls to the exploration of familial bonds and expectations, there were moments that flickered brightly. Still, I found myself yearning for more depth. I appreciate the representation of diverse identities—Korean American, Taiwanese American, and a trans character—but I couldn’t shake the feeling that there was uncharted territory left unexplored. Julie and Randall’s food-focused connection lacked the emotional punch I was hoping for; despite their culinary adventures, I longed for a deeper dive into their characters’ inner worlds.
The writing style itself carries a light, breezy tone, which may appeal to readers looking for an easy escape. Jennifer Lee crafts dialogue that feels authentic, even if it occasionally leans into the cliché. However, my investment in the characters ultimately wavered, and I found myself craving a storyline that would elevate their journey beyond teenage angst and whispered secrets.
In conclusion, while Hangry Hearts offers a charming premise and represents diverse voices within the YA genre, it may resonate more with readers who enjoy light romantic reads without intense conflict. It’s perfect for those who want a taste of young love wrapped in the familiarity of family drama. For me, it was like a gourmet dish that, while appealing on the surface, left a bit of a peculiarly bland aftertaste. However, I remain hopeful for Jennifer Lee’s next culinary romance—maybe with a bit more spice next time!
If you’re up for a quick read with cultural elements and light-hearted moments, Hangry Hearts might just be your next literary snack!