It’s raining today in the Bay – the skies are grey and the wind is blowing the water drops nearly sideways. It’s the perfect day to cuddle up under a warm blanket with a piping hot mug of Earl Grey, accompanied by a great story. And since I’ve been lucky enough to get my hands on a copy of The Golden Spoon by Jessa Maxwell, I decided it was the perfect day to dive into the world of baking competitions. (Many thanks to Simon & Schuster / Atria Books for the review copy!)

I’ve enjoyed cooking competitions basically since I first had access to the Food Network. My brother and I spent weekends watching Food Network Challenge – hours of experts showing off their craft to the fullest. It’s always been about the drama inherent in creating something truly marvelous – no strange sabotages or cutthroat competition required. You can imagine my excitement when I learned of The Great British Bake-off, which optimizes for this precise flavor of drama. I immediately fell in love with the formula – amateur bakers, guided by baking masters and hosted by friendly comedians. I’ve been a fan for years.

So The Golden Spoon, which relates mysterious events at week-long amateur baking competition called Bake Week was always going to pique my interest. The novel combines a manor house mystery (the chefs are hosted at a remote Vermont manor) with the drama inherent in reality TV. It’s a tricky balance between cozy vibes and scandal, and it’s interesting to see how Maxwell tackles it. (Mild spoilers ahead!)

A carefully crafted cast

As with any reality show, much of the success of this novel rests in the cast. The story focuses on six bakers, each carefully selected for both baking skills and backstory. To win, the bakers must impress Betsy Martin, the long-time host often called “America’s Grandmother”. This year, they’ve introduced a new host and judge, Archie Morris, who’s known for a more cutthroat style of competition. And the drama begins almost from the start: contestants sneak around the manor, ingredients are sabotaged, bakes rendered inedible.

As with any baking competition, caring about any of this means that you must care about the cast. Maxwell’s done a good job of making sure this is the case. Each competitor has a backstory that makes them interesting and (for the most part) sympathetic. There’s Peter, the flannel-wearing home improvement specialist; Gerald, the baking nerd who just wants to measure his way to perfection; Hannah, the small-town girl with big dreams of celebrity; Stella, the former journalist who picked up baking obsessively for a year (who didn’t over the pandemic?); Pradyumna, the laid-back tech millionaire looking to find a bigger purpose; and Lottie, the sweet grandmother with a secret agenda. Even without the mystery, this would be a fun cast to watch interact.

But Maxwell, like the reality-show producers she’s writing about, has selected each backstory with care. As the story winds on, the contestants’ experiences become more relevant to unwinding the mystery at hand. Each character has a specific role to play, a specific secret to uncover, a specific path to fulfill. Not only that, but each cast member finds the perfect partner to help them grow and heal. There aren’t really red herrings – only big mysteries and smaller ones – which may throw some mystery fans off. Maxwell toes the line between believable and coincidental, and your enjoyment of the novel may rely on your willingness to suspend a bit of disbelief to enjoy some catharsis. (Today, I was looking for a cozy ending, so this was right up my alley.)

Closed-circle mystery crossed with reality-TV scandal

At its heart, The Golden Spoon is a classic closed-circle mystery. A large cast gathers together in an isolated country house, and then (eventually) a murder happens. Putting together the pieces involves uncovering long-lost secrets and deep-held grudges, until the cast discovers the truth. It’s a tale as old as the Golden Age.

Here, there’s the added layer of interpersonal complication from the setting in reality TV. This goes beyond the typical elimination drama, with Maxwell expanding to the more sordid elements of the genre. Who, if anyone, is sabotaging the bakes? Who’s sleeping with whom? If you, like me, came for the promise of a wholesome Great British Bake-Off-like setting, this may be a bit off-putting. Certainly there’s a bit of tension here – after all, if everything were fully friendly, there wouldn’t be any mystery to solve.

Maxwell tries to solve this by going deeper with her cast. The drama goes beyond the surface, and solving it means confronting the fears and challenges that have limited thus far. By the time the story is over, the last has grown, not only as bakers but as people. It parallels the growth that the best wholesome competition shows enable. (Amaury Guichon’s School of Chocolate is a particularly great example of this trope.) And so, despite the gritty revelations inherent in a good mystery, we end up at a pretty wholesome spot.

Reader’s notes and rating (⭐⭐⭐⭐)

The Golden Spoon is a warm hug of a book, a great read for a rainy day with a mug of cocoa. The plot races along, and while some of the major beats are guessable about halfway through the story, it’s worth sticking around for the ending. For those who like cozy mysteries and baking competitions, this is a no-brainer. But for my more skeptical friends – or those who don’t want to think about reality-TV scandals in their favorite wholesome baking show – this one may be a pass. Personally, I’ll definitely read this again when it releases in March next year – like a great bake, it’s warm and comforting.