Opinions of a Wolf

A sweet, closed-door sapphic romance set in Sài Gòn, where two foodie 18-year-olds fall for each other while uncovering family secrets and rekindling a love of food writing.

Summary:
In Sài Gòn, Lan is always trying to be the perfect daughter, dependable and willing to care for her widowed mother and their bánh mì stall. Her secret passion, however, is A Bánh Mì for Two, the food blog she started with her father but has stopped updating since his passing.

Meanwhile, Vietnamese American Vivi Huynh, has never been to Việt Nam. Her parents rarely talk about the homeland that clearly haunts them. So Vivi secretly goes to Vietnam for a study abroad program her freshman year of college. She’s determined to figure out why her parents left, and to try everything she’s seen on her favorite food blog, A Bánh Mì for Two.

When Vivi and Lan meet in Sài Gòn, they strike a deal. Lan will show Vivi around the city, helping her piece together her mother’s story through crumbling photographs and old memories. Vivi will help Lan start writing again so she can enter a food blogging contest. And slowly, as they explore the city and their pasts, Vivi and Lan fall in love.

Review:
I love a sweet, closed-door sapphic romance (see my review of Hani and Ishu’s Guide to Fake Dating), so when I heard about A Bánh Mì for Two, it was an easy add to my wishlist. The focus on food blogging and Vietnamese street food—both eating it and running a street food cart—was just the icing on the cake. This story strikes a delicate yet exquisite balance between lighthearted sweetness and the very real multigenerational trauma caused by the Vietnam War (referred to in Vietnam as The War Against the Americans to Save the Nation).

Told in alternating first-person perspectives between Lan and Vivi, the book avoids the common pitfall of muddled voices. While both characters are kind and thoughtful, they each have distinct ways of seeing the world, which keeps their narration clear and engaging. The romance is a sweet, slow burn, beginning with Vivi’s admiration of Lan’s food blog and blossoming into real-world chemistry after a chance encounter in Sài Gòn.

I especially appreciated the queer representation. There’s no on-page angst about being queer. Vivi does talk briefly with her friend Cindy (a Mexican American character) about how coming out can be complicated with conservative parents, but by the time the story begins, both girls’ families are accepting. It was also refreshing to see Vivi clearly identify as bisexual—representation that could’ve been easily overlooked since her only relationship in the book is with Lan. It’s affirming and intentional, which I loved.

The food descriptions are vivid but never overdone. They strike just the right balance between informing the reader (especially for dishes that might be unfamiliar) and keeping the flow natural. (I’ve eaten many a bánh mì in my life, and still found the food writing delightful!) I also really appreciated that this is a story about two 18-year-olds, and college isn’t presented as the only post–high school option. Lan’s mom encourages her to pursue school if she wants to, but also supports her jumping right into a career—a rare and welcome take in YA-adjacent fiction.

Vivi’s experience as a Vietnamese American studying abroad in Vietnam adds a beautiful emotional layer. She’s not a tourist—she’s searching for a kind of homecoming. She’s exploring why her mother kept so many details about Vietnam and their family a secret. This process is a powerful lens for the reader to learn about the war’s impact on Vietnamese families without the book ever feeling preachy. The historical context emerges naturally—through conversations, shared meals, and street encounters. It’s excellent writing.

The romantic progression between Lan and Vivi is tender and believable. One of my favorite parts was the motorbike rides around Sài Gòn—evocative, cinematic, and intimate. Even the third-act conflict felt justified. It wasn’t a contrived misunderstanding but a believable clash of cultural differences and personal pain. No one is villainized, and the resolution feels earned.

That said, a few elements pulled me out of the story. For example, Vivi’s study abroad program is mentioned as her reason for being in Vietnam, but we never actually see her attend class or study. This absence feels like a missed opportunity—readers might expect the study abroad setting to include some academic context. Similarly, while the book opens with several references to Vivi lying to her mom about her location—including photoshopping photos—the tension fades away later in the book. I found it a bit hard to believe that her mom wouldn’t catch on sooner.

The book is richly diverse, featuring Vietnamese and Vietnamese American characters, a Mexican American side character, and a sapphic romance at the center. Lan’s mother has a chronic illness, and her father passed away young from a stroke. The book also explores difficult family dynamics, grief, and healing across generations.

Overall, this is a fun, sweet sapphic romance featuring the beloved tropes of slow burn and study abroad, while offering thoughtful reflections on Vietnamese culture, family history, and the legacy of war. It’s beautifully steeped in food, healing, and love. Recommended for anyone looking for a sweet, queer romance with emotional depth, cross-cultural exploration, and heartwarming food moments.

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4 out of 5 stars

Length: 224 pages – average but on the shorter side

Source: Library

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