For those who (like me) didn't know what salad olivier is when they started reading this book, it's a Russian potato salad. It's mayonnaise-based and has carrots and pickles/cucumbers in addition to diced potatoes, and some versions also have eggs, other vegetables or fruits, and/or meats like chicken or ham. The Iranian version typically uses Persian pickled cucumbers and includes eggs and chicken.

These chapters completely solidified why I’m already so invested in this story. I continue to be amazed by how much this novel accomplishes with such understated prose. The writing continues to be beautifully understated, but every interaction is layered with emotion, culture, and meaning.

Homa’s home has become such a safe haven for Ellie. I loved watching her learn to cook and, in the process, discover what it feels like to be trusted with responsibility instead of simply being told what to do. There’s such a difference between being expected to help and being invited to participate. Homa’s family has so little materially, yet they live with such gratitude and generosity. Even Homa’s excitement over her father bringing home leftover ingredients from the restaurant says so much about how abundance can be measured in more than wealth. Food in this novel has become one of my favorite aspects of the story because it feels like an expression of love, culture, community, and belonging.

I also loved the conversation about becoming lionesses. It feels like the heart of the novel beginning to reveal itself. I appreciated that the girls weren’t just dreaming about careers, but about becoming women who could live for themselves while making life better for others. Women who contribute, advocate, and speak up.

One thing I continue to appreciate is how the book complicates its characters. My feelings toward Ellie’s mother are constantly shifting. I still struggle with the emotional burden Ellie carries because of their relationship, but the novel also keeps reminding me of the impossible choices women were often forced to make. It refuses to let any character exist as simply good or bad, and I think the story is stronger because of that. I’m unhappy with the choices she’s made, but understanding what she values for her daughter, I can also understand why she made them.

More than anything, these chapters made me think about what truly makes a home. Is it comfort? Security? Status? Love? And at what age, or through what experiences, do our ideas of what matters begin to change? Or perhaps more importantly, what has the power to change them?

”Making peace with your body is your mighty act of revolution. It is your contribution to a changed planet where we might all live unapologetically in the bodies we have.”

What I love the most about this is that you don’t have to be “finished” making peace with your body in order to contribute to the revolution. The fact that you are on a journey towards a more peaceful and loving relationship with your own body is what really matters. Wherever you are on your journey, you are helping to turn the tide towards a world that is more accepting and compassionate.