An IndieNext Pick for March 2024
Shortlisted for the Barnes & Noble Discover Prize
Named a Best Book of February 2024 by People Magazine
Named one of Elle's “Best (and Most Anticipated) Fiction Books of 2024”
Named a Must-Read Book of February 2024 by Nylon
“If I owned a bookstore, I’d hand-sell Piglet to everyone. . . . Hazell’s prose is as tart and icy as lemon sorbet; her sentences are whipcord taut, drum tight. . . . The “will she or won’t she” isn’t just about the man and the wedding. It’s about whether Piglet ends up embracing a big life, full of richness and variety and good things to eat, or if she lets herself be crammed into that too-small dress.”
—Jennifer Weiner, The New York Times Book Review
“A fresh take on hunger, class, and the weight of expectations.”
—People Magazine
“Sensuous. . . Each burger and croquembouche is freighted with meaning.”
—The New Yorker
“That sumptuous cheeseburger on the cover is feast enough, but Piglet has so much more to offer within its short, compulsively readable pages. . . . Delicious, in every sense of the word.”
—Lauren Puckett-Pope, Elle
“Delicious food writing and subtle British class politics meet a pre-marital crisis? Sign us up!”
—Sophia June, Nylon
“Razor-sharp prose, spot-on character development, and propulsive plot. . . . Food isn’t an afterthought in this scrumptious novel, it’s one of (if not the) main characters. . . . A suspenseful, binge-worthy read that dives deep into women’s appetites, in all its many forms.”
—Hannah Towey, Condé Nast Traveler
“A compelling debut. Hazell’s writing moves quickly, and she excels in setting scenes and describing food and cooking.”
—Amy McCarthy and Bettina Makalintal, Eater
“Remarkably clever and deeply compelling. . . . This is a sharp and stylish work that will linger longer after you’re done.”
—Isabelle McConville, B&N Reads
“Some seriously brilliant cringe. When Piglet wanders into an Indian restaurant by herself and orders every dish on the menu days before her wedding-dress fitting, it’s hard not to squirm, and harder still to avoid interrogating the reasons for one’s intense discomfort . . . Like the food that Piglet cooks, Hazell’s sentences are delicious. . . A novel that you will devour first and savor later.”
—Kirkus Reviews
“Piglet excels in its crisp dialogue and Hazell's glorious descriptions of Piglet's cooking and the foods she hungers for.”
–Booklist
“Hazell debuts with the delicious narrative of a disastrous wedding.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Ambitious prose Nora Ephron would be proud of. Hazell captures the subtle class divide in contemporary British life with precision—all while serving the reader a bacchanal of delicious food writing that will have you craving more.”
—Marlowe Granados, author of Happy Hour
“Piglet is luscious and disturbing and propulsive, and I completely devoured it. It’s a book about hunger and secrecy and women made small by convention. And it’s a book that tears at the surface of things to reveal the vast, messy truth of a body with a beating heart.”
—Catherine Newman, New York Times bestselling author of Sandwich
“It takes audacity and all kinds of courage to produce a novel as ferocious and weird as Piglet. The narrative accelerates like nothing else I’ve read, opening onto dead-end domestic conformity and then driving us all the way out into the wildernesses, where the possibility for liberation and the fulfillment of desires might be discovered. It made me so hungry.”
—Lamorna Ash, author of Dark, Salt, Clear
“This book! Visceral, brilliantly dark, and so smart. An object lesson in how our relentless pursuit of a tickbox life will never make us happy. Characters that pop, writing you could eat.”
—Fran Littlewood, New York Times bestselling author of Amazing Grace Adams
2023-12-16
An addictive novel about a London cookbook editor whose life veers off course weeks before her wedding.
Piglet, the narrator of Hazell’s debut novel, seems to have it all: a good job, a new house, fancy cookware and boundless energy for whipping up perfect meals, and a fiance whose upper-crust family promises to whisk her away from her middle-class upbringing. However, Piglet’s false modesty and her fiance Kit’s lavish toast to her, “the cause of every good thing I have in my life,” set off alarm bells by the end of the first chapter. An italicized note before the start of the next chapter amplifies that unease by letting us know Kit is going to tell Piglet something damaging—we don’t know what—13 days before their wedding. Kit’s betrayal drives the novel forward in an unexpected way. Hazell’s choice to withhold a crucial bit of information won’t bother some readers, while others will feel like the book is a recipe with a vital ingredient missing. The novel teases out the ways Piglet betrays herself long before Kit’s confession and how she rages against the conventions of femininity and bourgeois restraint afterwards. The result is some seriously brilliant cringe. When Piglet wanders into an Indian restaurant by herself and orders every dish on the menu days before her wedding-dress fitting, it’s hard not to squirm, and harder still to avoid interrogating the reasons for one’s intense discomfort. The effect is similar when Piglet goes around telling everyone, including Kit’s family and hers, his big secret. Hazell balances these quasi-comedic moments with quieter ones to keep Piglet real. Her shame about her parents is poignant, especially because they really love her. “We’re proud of you, Piglet,” her father says. “I know that doesn’t mean much from your old dad back in Derby….” Like the food that Piglet cooks, Hazell’s sentences are delicious. The lowly lentil, for example, has never looked so exciting, blooming in broth before Piglet hears “the angry, thumping hiss of something catching on cast iron.”
A novel that you will devour first and savor later.