Cooking the Books

I’ll admit, I picked up *Cooking the Books* expecting a light, frothy diversion—maybe some croissants, a dash of intrigue, and a neat little bow at the end. Instead, I got a story that’s as layered as a proper mille-feuille: deceptively simple on the surface, but with a satisfying depth beneath. Corinna Chapman is the kind of protagonist I’d follow anywhere—not because she’s flawless, but because she’s *real*. She’s brilliant at reading people (and recipes), but her impatience and stubbornness often land her in hot water. The plot kicks off when her bookkeeper’s dodgy accounts drag her into a financial scandal, and Greenwood does a masterful job of making spreadsheets and ledgers feel as tense as a knife fight. Louise Siversen’s performance is a standout. She nails Corinna’s dry humor and the weary exasperation of a woman who just wants to bake her sourdough in peace, thank you very much. The supporting cast—from Corinna’s gothic assistant to the suspiciously charming accountant—each get distinct voices, though a few minor characters blur together in crowded scenes. My only real critique? The middle act drags slightly when the financial jargon threatens to overwhelm the momentum. But just as I started to zone out, Greenwood would drop in a sharp one-liner or a mouthwatering description of lamington cake, pulling me right back in. The production quality is crisp, with no distracting edits, though I did wish for a touch more atmospheric sound design (the clatter of a bakery at dawn, maybe?). Still, this is a mystery that satisfies like a perfect loaf of bread: crusty on the outside, soft and rich within.