If you’re looking for a fun read to finish off Hispanic Heritage Month or just to get you through the hurricane, consider Racquel V. Reyes’ cozy, Barbacoa, Bomba, and Betrayal: a Caribbean Kitchen Mystery #3. Some readers had a few criticisms, which I’ll address below, but it’s definitely a fun escape from daily life, just as a good cozy should be.

The first in the series, Mango, Mambo, and Murder, won the 2022 Lefty Award for Best Humorous Mystery Novel, and it’s easy to see why. But don’t worry, you don’t have to start with book one to enjoy book three. Reyes fills in those information gaps so deftly newcomers never feel lost and familiar readers never feel the need to skim.

Like the first two in the series, Barbacoa, Bomba, and Betrayal whisks you away with a brisk plot. In fact, Reyes gets you galloping from the very first line, “Should we take down the tree today?” 

The question sparks a conflict between our amateur sleuth, Miriam Quiñones and her husband Robert, whose birth “family’s Christmas traditions were very different compared to mine.” Miriam explains her Cuban family’s much lengthier and livelier winter holiday tradition, which launches on Christmas Eve, Nochebuena, and culminates twelve days later when the Three Kings give the children even more gifts. I myself had a wave of nostalgia for the holiday, and I’ve never experienced it.

Thank goodness a few short pages later Robert pulls a hidden present out of the tree with the help of their preschool-aged son Manny. The gift turns out to be tickets for Miriam and Manny to spend the rest of the holiday with her family in Punta Cana, Dominican Republic. The only catch is, she’s leaving the very next day. And off we go for the rest of the novel and just such a joyous whiplash clip.

Miriam, a former food anthropologist, is five months pregnant. If she doesn’t go visit her parents now now, when will she? Robert must stay behind for work, but he’s taken care of everything. It turns out her popular cooking show, Abuela Approved, featuring recipes and foods of the African diaspora in the Caribbean, and her segment on the UnMundo morning show La Tacita are taking advantage of her trip. They’ve arranged for her to puddle-jump her to San Juan, Puerto Rico. They plan to film the Día de los Reyes festival and conduct interviews with local chefs and shopkeepers. 

Before we know it, we’re propelled into the arms of her loving parents. They have struggles of their own involving the vacation property they manage. Then we’re tossed into the infectious excitement of San Juan readying for the holiday. Miriam is a likable narrator who seamlessly weaves in lessons in history, culture, politics, arts, and cuisine without ever slowing the momentum. Her professional knowledge and the filming for her show create the reader experience of being on vacation. We’re touring shops, historical sites, and restaurants, and getting a smattering of history and culture. Because UnMundo is doing Día de los Reyes holiday piece, we join Miriam on all the touristy things a foodie would do. Happily, the cultural asides also often tie into the plot, which, as it happens, is a who-done-it murder mystery.

You guessed it, soon after we land with Miriam in San Juan, we stumble upon a body. The victim is part of a tangled web involving BitCoin and the property tycoons who not only threaten the way of life in Puerto Rico, but the livelihood of Miriam’s parents in the Dominican Republic.

Spanglish and the What’s-a-Cozy Conundrum

A criticism some level at Reyes’ Caribbean Kitchen Mysteries is the use of Spanglish, or English heavily peppered with Spanish words and phrases. Reyes contains the Spanglish to the dialogue, where it arises naturally for the bilingual characters, as do entire exchanges in pure Spanish. At first when characters speak solely in Spanish, as Miriam does, for example, to her son Manny, Reyes offers the translation immediately following. After awhile, she dispenses with the translation, trusting you to have gotten the hang of things the way a good traveler would. However, some cozy readers find it too much work. 

I have a minor degree in Spanish and lived for six months in Spain, so I enjoyed the refresher. I’d wager if you studied Spanish in high school or college, as many of us did, you’d enjoy reading the brief phrases peppered into dialogue. You may even relish the few longer sentences Reyes either repeats in English or shores up with context cues.

Readers who aren’t familiar with Spanish, however, or who come to cozies because they want an easy-breezy escape, may feel more annoyed than energized by the Spanglish. If that’s the case for you, maybe this isn’t your cup of cozy. I have faith, however, that if you want an escape, the hiccups of language will smooth out as you get accustomed to them, just as they would if you’d traveled to Puerto Rico yourself. 

It’s an accommodation worth making, because, as they say, when in Puerto Rico, do as the Puerto Ricans do. The Spanglish helps immerse you in the exciting tour of the Punta Cana and San Juan.

Not Cozy Enough for Comfort

Some say they feel Barbacoa, Bomba, and Betrayal has tied the plot too closely to real-world economic threats to the Puerto Rican way of life. Such a plot makes it a political thriller, not a cozy, they complain. A real cozy, they say, assures you you’ll enjoy your escapism without having to stumble over something upsetting (other than a dead body). I say that may be a matter of taste rather than a category. I like my cozies a bit spicy, and I’m not alone.

The last few years there’ve been discussions in cozy corners about whether there’s a subcategory called “dark cozies.” Purists argue if it’s dark, it’s not a cozy. In your classic no-trigger-warnings-needed cozy, the murder is almost cartoonishly silly, say, having suffocated on a cupcake or been stabbed with poodle-grooming shears. The victim is either someone unlikable we only met briefly or someone we never met at all.

Even a well-cushioned and sanitized cozy, however, will address real social and emotional issues, such as divorce, domestic violence, and all the myriad motives for murder spawned by the seven deadly sins. I mean, somebody killed somebody. And the sleuth almost always has her life threatened in the climax and it will quicken your pulse at least a few beats for a few seconds.

How cozy is Barbacoa, Bomba, and Betrayal?

What makes a mystery a cozy one is usually a question of how long the author dwells on the darkness and how graphic the details. On this score, Barbacoa, Bomba, and Betrayal is definitely a cozy. While I agree the injustices against the Caribbean people are upsetting, Reyes did not indulge in long screeds, or any screeds for that matter, or excruciating detail. She incorporated the issues deftly into plot and character. The masterfully quick pace never dwells on distress. The central conflicts directly arise from the politics of the time, but lightly, breezily. We never stew in anything except stew. More strident views are placed in the mouths of dynamic characters who happen to be activists. Reyes makes a point to show how activism is an integral part of the cultural history, alive and well and fiery, inviting the reader to fold it into the tour of the region. If you were touring Puerto Rico, you would learn this too. 

Clearly, the Caribbean culture is a passion for Reyes. As a former creative writing professor, I can tell you, we urge our students to write what they know, but also to write what they want to know. We steer them into the tailwinds of their passions. I would ask them, “What makes you angry?” There’s your forward propulsion. Anger is a response to conflict, to a breach of justice. If we’re along for this ride with Miriam, we’re falling in love with Puerto Rico. Therefore, I don’t see how Reyes could pass the opportunity to alert us to threats to this landscape, architecture, culture, and people. She had a social responsibility born of love.

My recommendation

Barbacoa, Bomba, and Betrayal: a Caribbean Kitchen Mystery #3 is everything a great cozy should be. It’s a compelling murder mystery populated with feisty, likable characters. It’s ideal escapism. It takes you out of your daily life to visit (or revisit) a world that may be exotic to some readers, but which is nonetheless an enjoyable, enriching, and integral part of our English-speaking world.