A Cuban Girl’s Guide to Tea and Tomorrow
Laura Taylor Namey
Have you been looking for a gentle book that feels like your favorite mug, warm in your hands and a hug for your heart all wrapped in one? If you haven’t been looking, I hope you’ll take the time for this enchanting, grounded contemporary teen romance set in Hampshire, England following a grieving Miami exile, and her butter and crumb filled connection to the “do I dare disturb the universe” tea shop boy across town.
It’s making me wax poetic, and has earned every single of the 5 stars I’ve awarded it over on goodreads. I’ve also absolutely been screaming over text all of my live reactions to my one friend who had already read it (thank you, Sandy). Just like Lila’s recipes, A Cuban Girl’s Guide to Tea and Tomorrow isn’t overly sweet, and includes a nuance or flavors, characters, and fills you up without being too heavy. Past me knew what she was doing when she added it to the #cottagecore book display late last year.
For Lila Reyes, a summer in England was never part of the plan. The plan was 1) take over her abuela’s role as head baker at their panadería, 2) move in with her best friend after graduation, and 3) live happily ever after with her boyfriend. But then the Trifecta happened, and everything—including Lila herself—fell apart.
Goodreads blurb
Worried about Lila’s mental health, her parents make a new plan for her: Spend three months with family friends in Winchester, England, to relax and reset. But with the lack of sun, a grumpy inn cook, and a small town lacking Miami flavor (both in food and otherwise), what would be a dream trip for some feels more like a nightmare to Lila…until she meets Orion Maxwell.
A teashop clerk with troubles of his own, Orion is determined to help Lila out of her funk, and appoints himself as her personal tour guide. From Winchester’s drama-filled music scene to the sweeping English countryside, it isn’t long before Lila is not only charmed by Orion, but England itself. Soon a new future is beginning to form in Lila’s mind—one that would mean leaving everything she ever planned behind.
I was introduced to Lila and Orion a few years ago at a book preview I got to attend, already enchanted with the concept I got to squeal about it with the staff person from Atheneum. It fills an ache the pandemic has carved out, and has been a balm to read.
Lila and all the other characters have been lovingly fleshed out, with enough room for growth and flaws alike. At times, she reads more mature than a 17-almost-18 protagonist, but given her backstory of running kitchens and leading a team since a young age, it doesn’t feel inauthentic. There are plenty of teens who feel at home in their element, and even more so now those who feel comfortable in their skin. Lila is one of those, to be sure, which is why we meet her at her worst.
The phrase “it gets better” is often bandied around, especially when it comes to grief, grieving, and most unpleasant things. I hope I haven’t done a disservice to this book by downplaying Lila’s grief in this review, because while it may not be raw anymore, this book shows the refining process. There is not false hope or empty platitudes when it comes to the hurt of missing someone, and in fact there are different kinds of grief represented in this book, with characters at different stages in their cycles with it. It is this hurt and the way the characters interact with their own and others’ sadness that makes them simultaneously so tender and real.
Lila and Orion’s romance is 100% organic without coming as a surprise to either. They’re both aware of the shift overtime to something more than friends, even if communication about it isn’t clear until the right moment. There’s a carefully laid payoff for the reader, and anyone who has keenly felt the phrase “fuck the ocean” will feel extra heart pangs for them as they face a reality of odds stacked against them. Their romance is also refreshingly wholesome without losing passion or flirtatious sass, a tricky thing to balance in teen romance novels. It also makes this book so much more accessible for readers I ordinarily wouldn’t consider for handing this to as an option; though the pink cover will likely be a deciding factor for future readers. A bold choice, and a beautiful illustration that captures things perfectly from the book, but a very strong stylistic decision that truly lends itself to the book finding the right reader.
All this talk of grief and depression might make the book sound so much more dire or melodramatic than it actually is though; and this is where Namey absolutely shines. While her characters’ intricate orbits are filled with gravity, she still gives them the universe to dream in and brings a levity that so often accompanies loss. If you know, you know. If you don’t, A Cuban Girl’s Guide to Tea and Tomorrow is an affirming look into what that process looks like. It’s not all sobbing and inconsolable, deep, dark depression (especially given the stereotypes we see in storytelling to shortcut through to closure). There is an amazing breadth of nuance captured here that is comforting as it is real, and not just limited to Lila either. Every character has their baggage and hardships, and there is the not-so-subtle reminder that our traumas are not in competition with each other. They all suck.
In Namey’s author’s note, she mentions that in writing this novel she was inspired by members of her own family, and while drafting some of those members passed away. The honor given to memory here is palpable, and deserving of mention as well.
This is a book I want to buy copies for all my friends and mail them for Valentine’s Day. Cooking is my love language, and since this pandemic is still going strong and dinner with friends isn’t a safe option right now, this book is chock full of love in every bit Lila prepares. I truly hope I see this book’s spine on every library’s shelves I sneak in to for a visit, because it has just a little bit of everything for everyone except, maybe, sword fights. But perhaps some vandalism and band rivalries will have to suffice.
The Little Book Witch 