I have always been fat. Okay, hear me out—what’s considered fat is entirely subjective, right? But to put it simply, I have always felt fat, even at my lowest weight. At 5'4" with broad shoulders and wide hips, I’ve always looked bigger than my siblings, and that’s been one of my deepest insecurities. I've constantly battled between eating enough to satisfy my soul and not eating so much that I feel guilty about it.  

That insecurity took a backseat when I met my husband—one of the sweetest people in my life, who loves me for who I am. We both adore experimenting with food and during our first year of marriage, I threw all caution to the wind, indulging in his delicious cooking without a second thought. But add that to little to no exercise and my thyroid issues, and—boom—I gained 10 kilos in a year. Suddenly, nothing fit anymore. I spiraled through every fad diet imaginable, starving myself one day, feeling weak and miserable the next, and then repeating the cycle. Even hours at the gym didn’t help. I was constantly exhausted, lacking vitamins, calcium, and, most importantly, joy.  

Then I read Butter, and something inside me shifted.  

This book helped me understand my relationship with food and my body in a way I had never considered before. I saw parts of myself in the protagonist, Rika, and how society’s gaze dictates how women should look, eat, and exist.  

Now, let me be clear—Butter is packaged as a murder mystery, but it’s not the kind of thriller that keeps you on the edge of your seat. Instead, it’s a slow, thoughtful, and deliciously rich exploration of women’s relationships with food, power, and self-image.  

The story follows Manako Kaji, a woman convicted of seducing and murdering wealthy men. She refuses to speak to any journalist—except for Rika, our protagonist, a hardworking journalist struggling to make a name for herself in a male-dominated industry. Rika’s life is a whirlwind of deadlines and convenience-store meals, leaving little time for self-care, let alone cooking. When Kaji unexpectedly agrees to an interview, Rika is both thrilled and terrified.  

But instead of discussing the alleged murders, Kaji talks only about food—describing meals in such intricate, mouthwatering detail that Rika finds herself drawn into Kaji’s world. Desperate to understand this enigmatic woman, Rika begins experimenting with cooking, mirroring Kaji’s approach to food. Through their interactions, we see how food can be so much more than just sustenance—it’s memory, comfort, rebellion, and sometimes even power.  

As Rika dives deeper, she starts to question everything—her relationship with food, her body, and even the people around her. The more she indulges in rich, buttery meals, the more the people in her life begin to take notice. Even her boyfriend—who was supposedly supportive—comments on her weight gain, equating it to a lack of self-care. And honestly? That hit too close to home(But not my husband. He has been the most supportive one. Credit where deserved).  

But here’s what I loved—Rika doesn’t completely fall for Kaji’s eccentric ideology, nor does she let society dictate her choices. Instead, she finds balance—learning to enjoy food, value her friendships, and redefine what happiness looks like for her.  

This book resonated with me on a personal level. It made me reflect on my own struggles with food and body image. I didn’t finish it with a grand epiphany or a brand-new outlook on life, but I did find myself walking to my local grocery store, grabbing tofu, butter, and fish sauce, and stir-frying them with newfound appreciation. And let me tell you—that simple meal tasted like freedom. Since then, tofu has become a staple in my kitchen, not as a diet food, but as something I genuinely love.  

I no longer see food as something to fear. I nourish my body, make healthier choices when I can, and yes, I still indulge without guilt. Paired with regular exercise, I’ve seen a huge improvement in my energy levels and mental well-being. And a shoutout to my lovely husband for helping me see food as something to enjoy rather than an enemy to conquer and being my constant support (although I get angry when he doesn't let me eat junk food which is an irony)

Am I all the way there yet? No. After a recent gallbladder stone surgery, I’m still figuring out what my body needs. But the difference is that I’m no longer at war with food. I’m learning to listen to my body, to find what fuels me best, and to let go of guilt.  

If you love literary fiction that makes you think, Butter is for you. If you’ve ever had a complicated relationship with food, your body, or society’s expectations, this book will speak to you. It’s not just about a murder mystery—it’s about the quiet battles women fight every day.  

But fair warning: This book will make you hungry. So have some good buttered toast or a creamy bowl of pasta ready while reading. You’ll thank me later.