Author: Daria Lavelle
Genre: Magical Realism / Literary Fiction / Culinary Ghost Story
Ideal For: Lovers of evocative food writing, tender explorations of grief, and genre-bending tales that linger like a flavor on the tongue.
Why I Picked It Up
When critics began comparing Aftertaste to a mash-up of Under the Whispering Door with Sweetbitter, and described it as a haunting culinary adventure set in New York, I had to know more. Add in ghostly food memories, emotional resonance, and a debut voice described as both imaginative and heartfelt? I was hooked before the first chapter. And yes—this debut fully delivers.
Plot in a Nutshell (No Spoilers)
Kostya Duhovny, a Ukrainian-American dishwasher and budding chef, discovers at eleven that he can taste ghostly meals—flavours tied to the memories of the recently deceased. Utterly unprepared, he keeps this ability hidden through childhood. As an adult, Kostya embraces his gift, opening a supper club serving dishes that summon loved ones of the living. These meals grant fleeting reunions—and unexpected closure. But meddling with the boundary between life and death has consequences. As the veil between the world grows thinner, Kostya must confront grief, responsibility, and the fragility of memory.
What Makes It So Memorable
1. Sensory Writing That Feels Real
Lavelle isn’t just describing food—she’s painting emotional landscapes with flavour. Her scenes are sumptuous: pechonka mouthfuls that bloom “like a bruise,” fish so buttery you taste it, cocktails that carry spectral echoes. The effect is vivid and visceral. Even when food doesn’t literally appear, memory does, in rich taste.
2. Magical Realism That Holds Emotional Weight
This isn’t spooking for effect—it’s ghostly empathy incarnate. Kostya’s clairgustance becomes a metaphor for grief, longing, and connection. He isn’t just summoning spirits—he’s bridging worlds lost and present. Each spectral meal carries weight, whether comforting or unsettling.
3. A New York Story That Breathes—And Snickers
Lavelle’s NYC is flavoured by early-2000s nostalgia, hipster culinary hubs, pop-culture nods to Ghostbusters, and Anthony Bourdain–style kitchen hustle. The novel thrives on contrasts: earnest mourning meets culinary competition, ghostly yearning meets merchandise-ready cocktail culture. It’s thoughtful and playful all at once.
4. Characters Forged in Loss
Kostya and Maura (a psychic with her own trauma) stand at the heart of personal and supernatural tension. Secondary characters—mourning customers, restless spirits—enrich the story, each embodying grief in culinary metaphor. Their identities are food seasons and grief notes, shaped with empathy.
5. Fresh and Ambitious (Even With Glitches)
Critics note the occasional cliché or cheesy romance line, but the bold concept and emotional core outshine minor duds. Lavelle’s storytelling is ambitious, blending genres with bluster, charm, and startling depth. It’s a debut that feels fully formed—a testament to wonder-infused narrative.
Where It Loves Yet Slightly Stumbles
- Romance Waffles Occasionally: Some dialogue leans into trope (“I love you like salt…”), and the romantic chemistry between Kostya and Maura isn’t always airtight. But it’s forgivable amid bigger plotlines and emotional stakes.
- Pacing Can Simmer—Then Spike: Early chapters draw you in gently with flavour and grief. Later, supernatural chaos escalates fast—doors slam, ghosts flail, stakes peak. It works, but feels uneven at points.
You’ll Love Aftertaste If You Enjoy…
- Food + fiction: Sweetbitter, Kitchen, Big Night
- Ghost stories that aren’t creepy: The Ghost Bride, Under the Whispering Door
- Magical realism with heart: Like Water for Chocolate, The Particular Sadness of Lemon Cake
Personal Highlights That Stick
- The First Taste: The initial flash of pechonka connects Kostya to his father in a haunting moment that lingers.
- Spectral Sour Cocktail Scene: A drink mixed by intuition summons a spirit—revealing both magic and pain in shared sips.
- Hungry Ghosts in the Food Hall: Lavelle’s hilarious yet heartbreaking twist on purgatory—hungry ghosts stuck for unfulfilled love—made me both laugh and shiver at the same time.
- Restaurant Chaos & Culinary Commentary: The time‑crunched kitchen scenes, aroma- and adrenaline-rich, hark to Bourdain’s world—and feel tangible under Lavelle’s pen.
- Ghostly Reckoning in NYC: Each ghost story becomes a snapshot of identity, loss, and memory—never grim, always tender.
Final Thoughts: A Book to Taste, Remember, Savour
Aftertaste is a rare blend: delectable prose, emotional depth, kitchen mayhem, and ghostly communion. Daria Lavelle serves a novel that feeds both heart and imagination.
It earns five stars because it nourishes. Yes, grief is heavy—but this book sweetens it with wit, brine, spirit, and spice. Each page infuses memory into meal, sorrow into flavour, longing into comfort.
If you’ve ever wondered what memory tastes like—or what it would mean to cook your way back to someone you lost—this book invites you to sit at the table.
