So there's this episode of Steven Universe where Steven and Connie get into an argument because Connie hated how their favorite book series ended with a big wedding that spent ten pages describing the cake, but was weak from a plot standpoint and didn't tie up the loose ends. Steven is kind of ashamed and embarrassed until Connie points out, "Of course you loved the wedding and the cake, you big softie."

This is a book for people who love reading ten pages about the cake.

The town of Snow Falls is clearly some kind of magical space where everything works out just right, where everyone will feel happy and accepted. Every plot beat feels so worn and familiar, every romantic moment so full of exactly the expected dialogue, that it feels a lot like rereading or rewatching something familiar. That's clearly the intent, for it to be cozy and comforting. So Anna's current boyfriend is a jerk and Maryam's family is driving her crazy? Wow, if only they were forced to slow down and enjoy endless domestic scenes of multicultural bakeries, sitting in front of the fire in cozy inns, and rediscovering artistic passions just in time for a big production number at the end of the book? And what if the men in their lives really saw them for who they are and one was a movie star and the other was a childhood crush?

The plot? Unbelievable. The dialogue? On the nose. The vibes? Too many halal marshmallows in my hot cocoa. The protagonists? Disappointingly straight. But as comedian Rekha Shankar once said, sometimes you just want to see a brown girl get kissed.

Actually my biggest gripe was the way that all of the Indian and Muslim cultural words were always explained. What, you mean to say your intended audience doesn't also need to be told, Christmas, that beautiful day when Christians celebrate the birth of their savior. While customs vary by region, this is typically celebrated first on Christmas Eve, with a religious service at the local church, and then with the exchange of gifts on Christmas morning... or pancakes, a favorite all across Canada, usually made by quickly frying a mixture of eggs, flour, milk and butter atop of a flat top... Like I'm neither Indian nor Muslim, but I've grown up quite adjacent to those communities and feeling like moments were stopped to have my hand held and explained still felt surprisingly othering. Yet I can acknowledge a lot of folks don't have my level of knowledge, so I think a funny way to fix this would be to just go into painstaking detail about the ingredients and customs of everything.

I wouldn't go out of my way to read this again, but I'm not sorry I spent my time. The relationship between Maryam and her sister reminded me so much of my mom and her sister it was a bit scary tbh. It's a silly holiday book, it doesn't pretend it's anything else, and for that, it's just fine.