BY ANNE CROWLEY
WHAT THE EXPERTS SAID:
“In this Japanese bestseller based on a real-life case, food unites a journalist and a cook turned murderer in a frequently thrilling novel anchored in misogyny.
“Kajii is a femme fatale who is the target of relentless body shaming during her trial and while in prison. Hungry for an exclusive interview, Rika writes to Kajii asking for the recipe for her beef stew – the last meal eaten by one of her victims.
“The relationship that ensues is as intimate as it is unconventional, with Rika finding herself increasingly fascinated by Kajii’s gourmet tastes … and the insolence and indulgence of her worldview.” Source: The Guardian.
MY THOUGHTS:
Butter is nothing short of a feast – rich in flavour, stuffed with tantalising recipes, and layered with meaning. It’s not just a crime story with culinary trimmings; it’s an incisive meditation on how appetites – literal and figurative – shape our relationships and our sense of self.
One memorable recipe is the simple dish of rice with butter and soy sauce. This humble meal recurs throughout the story, becoming a symbol of comfort, nostalgia, and quiet rebellion – a way to reclaim pleasure in a world that often polices women’s appetites. The dish’s unpretentiousness highlights the beauty found in everyday rituals, and Yuzuki’s sensual descriptions make you crave its warmth and simplicity, reinforcing food’s central role as both sustenance and metaphor.
But the book doesn’t shy away from its darker aspects. Indeed, its willingness to explore obsession, shame, longing, guilt, rejection, and the blurry boundaries between reality and illusion is what makes it so satisfying, albeit unsettling.
The novel questions traditional expectations placed on women: to be modest, restrained, and self-sacrificing. For Rika, “Japanese women are required to be self-denying, hard-working and ascetic, and in the same breath to be feminine, soft and caring towards men”. Rika’s boyfriend’s misogynistic statements ring in her ears, “Men putting on weight is different from women putting on weight”.
Through Kajii’s character – unapologetically large, passionate, and defiant – Yuzuki challenges the reader to reconsider what it means to live authentically in a world that demands conformity.
The two main characters are well developed, as are their evolving and complex relationship, and the deepening relationships of Rika with her friends.
Some readers may find the pace a bit slow at times, with action suspended for periods of introspection, especially in scenes where Rika muses on her own insecurities and frustrations as she journeys towards self-acceptance. As such, if you’re expecting a traditional crime thriller, while the book does involve the journalist’s investigation of the murders, you might be frustrated by the novel’s reflective passages.
The ending is ambiguous, leaving several threads unresolved, but for me, it adds to the book’s authenticity and emotional impact. Life rarely offers perfect closure, and neither do the best stories.
I missed my book club’s review of this book, but I’m told the host provided rice with butter and soy sauce for lunch.
