food

Dragons to Light Your Fire

Dragons have generally been tarnished with the evil/badass brush for most of their mythological lives. Western mythology certainly paints dragons as evil beings designed to be fought by brave knights. But in the East, dragons are favourable creatures. They can bring good luck – and can even be helpful. Three excellent dragon books flew into MinervaReads recently…and although they did not battle, they certainly set MinervaReads on fire.

Dragon with a Chocolate Heart by Stephanie Burgis
This silky smooth, deliciously alluring middle grade novel, about a young dragon who gets turned into a human with a penchant for chocolate (making, crafting, and eating), was devoured like a smooth cup of hot chocolate in the middle of a harsh winter.

I’m generally not that keen on fantasy stories, but this brilliantly-told adventure tale navigates the fantasy realm and yet also manages to stay rooted firmly in the friendship/adventure book stable, completely twisting up that ‘new girl moves into school/village’ premise.

Aventurine the dragon decides to prove to her family (including her ridiculously talented older siblings) how fierce and tough a dragon she is, by leaving the safe mountain cave, and venturing out to capture prey all by herself. However, the first human she meets tricks her into eating enchanted chocolate (who could resist the aroma?), and she is turned into a human.

The bulk of the novel follows Aventurine as she moves into a human town and tries to make something of herself – most particularly as a chocolate maker’s apprentice, for she cannot resist the allure of chocolate.

There are some stand-out qualities to this novel that take it from the realm of the fairly mundane fairy tale about transformations and dragons, into a really excellent novel.

The characters are all wonderfully drawn, with just a hint of mystery behind them. Silke, Aventurine’s ally and friend, is as feisty as a dragon herself, yet also wily, loyal, and brimming with emotional intelligence. As is the owner and chef at the chocolate shop who employs Aventurine (notice how they’re all female). Each character comes across as startlingly real and three-dimensional – they lose their tempers and metaphorically breathe out fire occasionally, but they are also graceful in their presentation, and fierce in their passions.

There is, of course, much love for chocolate. It’s hard to read the book and not want to eat some, which shows how well the descriptions work, but also there’s some interesting detail on cocoa nibs etc.

But I think my favourite quality is the excellent use of observation. Aventurine comes into the human world without having a clue about it, and it’s her witty ignorance that fills the book with humour – from the hair on people’s faces, to the clothes they wear, the things they value, and the similarities in family structures between her dragon family and human families. Much is made of class, greed and hierarchy in the book, and it works well, and can easily lead to further discussion. Patronage, corruption, bureaucracy and blame are addressed too.

Of course the overall message is not to judge by appearance. Aventurine has the same personality whether she wears a dragon skin, or inhabits a human skin. There’s also a great message about fear of failure – how failure can destroy confidence, and yet above all what’s needed is grit and determination. Hard work pays off. Loyalty is rewarded.

For a contemporary audience, I loved how the images of chocolate fit with today’s taste for spicing up chocolate with flavours, such as chilli chocolate etc. It’s a sweet and flavoursome book, which you’ll devour like a dragon. For ages 9+ years. You can taste the book here.

Build the Dragon by Dugald Steer, illustrated by Jonathan Woodward and Douglas Carrel
Part activity, part book, this is great for all dragon enthusiasts.

A comprehensive guide to dragons frames this Build the Dragon kit, which includes 46 pieces that are easily slotted together to make your own 3-D model. The dragon comes with moving parts – a jaw that opens and shuts with a lever, and a windup motor that makes the dragon’s wings flap. Once the model was built (taking an eleven year old child just over an hour on their own, with only a slight struggle with the motorised wings), we set to exploring the accompanying text.

my dragon (which went down a treat in the school library)

This is a 32 page large full-colour exploration of everything dragon, from a definition, to legends, habitats, anatomy, diet and reproduction. The author has split the world of dragons into Western and Eastern, highlighting the extreme differences between the two, and then used tales of dragons from mythology to highlight their various characteristics as if they were real.

Each paragraph of information is accompanied by an illustration or diagram, some captioned, and the text is neatly written – easy to understand and containing a dense amount of information in bite-size chunks.

There is much to learn here – from the Guardians of Flaming Pearls to the Venom Spitter, a dragon that didn’t breathe fire, but was referenced in a London pamphlet in 1614, which explained that the dragon had used its violent poison to kill both men and cattle. Other highlights include the map of the world showing global myths, and the dragon scales chart.

The book ends with a sumptuous colourful dragon guide, highlighting earliest representations of dragons, which vary from written references in AD 680, to depictions on Egyptian bowls in BC 4000.

It is excellent and thoughtful of the publishers to provide duplicates of the delicate wings in case they tear, because the motorised wings were fiddly to build and we didn’t think would hold up to much play once built, but the rest of the model is constructed from robust cardboard. I also would have loved to know the authors’ key sources for their information.

Invest in your dragon model here.

The Dragon Keeper’s Handbook by Katie Haworth, illustrated by Monica Armino
Another comprehensive tome that takes the premise that dragons are real. This is fiction masquerading as non-fiction, a guide to looking after dragons – almost like a ‘bringing up baby manual’ – with fabulous full-colour illustrations that both give information and lend a comedic element to the book.

The opening letter of the text talks to the reader as if they have succeeded in applying to look after the dragon, and this book is the starter guide – at this point I began to have palpitations in much the same way as I do opening Ikea furniture instructions.

However, the instructions here are much better written, more informative, and massively more fun. There is a wonderful sense of humour pulsating throughout the book from the suggested equipment at the beginning – such as oven gloves for handling anything the dragon has set fire to – to the advice on where learn to fly the dragon – several hundred miles from human habitation.

As well as the fun in the text, the book is hugely interactive. Spinning wheels, flaps to lift, pop up flying dragons, books within the book, and the ultimately hilarious happy/fierce face flip dragon towards the end.

There is a huge amount of information taken from dragon-lore, such as famous paintings that portray dragons, popular stories, and the different types of dragon from around the world. Brilliantly, it would perfectly complement the Build the Dragon book reviewed above, if your child (or you) have a particular penchant for dragons.

This is a book to make you smile and give much pleasure. By the end I felt competent to look after and even attempt to fly my own dragon. Get yourself a similar skillset here.

The Lumberjack’s Beard by Duncan Beedie

I’m often asked – what makes a good picture book? There are so many elements it’s hard to be so prescriptive, but this book certainly ticks lots of the boxes. With a stunning main character, lashings of food, fun with language, a slightly distorted silly reality and a green message, this book won me over (and my little testers).

Lumberjacks are great fodder for stories – they appear in fairy tales – from the woodcutter who saves Red Riding Hood, to, in some versions, Hansel and Gretel’s father. The idea of the lumberjack links to a shared cultural past – the history of when men cut down trees by hand rather than by machine, and also a bygone era in which they embodied ideals of masculinity – strength, solitude, and a conflicted solidity in common with the trees they were about to fell. Of course, many of you, me included, will launch into Monty Python’s Lumberjack song at about this point in my blog. “I’m a lumberjack and I’m okay….”

In The Lumberjack’s Beard, the protagonist is Jim Hickory, a lumberjack who lives in a stunning mountainous landscape populated with a plethora of triangular trees, eats a stack of pancakes each day (I’m sure Duncan Beedie knows that Lumberjack Day is synonymous with Pancake Day in the States) before venturing outside his log cabin and starting work for the day, chopping down trees.

But when the woodland creatures lose their homes, they demand a new place, and although Jim offers his beard as a new home, there comes a time when it all gets too much for him. A better solution is needed.

The language is great – not only do we hear the noise Jim makes when he fells a tree, but also this is an extremely active man. He does his limbering exercises before his lumbering job, but he also swings and cleaves and whacks and hacks. He chops and snaps…the vocabulary is pitched perfectly – it fits the story and adds to the excitement.

But as with all great picture books, it’s the illustrations that need to come up trumps. Beedie not only has the main illustrations serving his purpose well – from the colours that emphasise the woodland feel of the story, to the expressions of his characters, (an indignant porcupine, an outraged bird, and an incredulous beaver), but he also pays attention to the small details: Jim’s mug, the bird’s glasses, the variety of textures between the animals, Jim’s beard, and Jim’s comfortable dwelling – his bed cover, his shirt etc.

Of course, the message at the end is that planting trees to replace those he is cutting is the ultimate solution, and it even shows the patience taken in doing so. The reader too is encouraged to have patience – lingering over the spread in which the seasons change allowing the trees to grow – so that they can spot the animals’ various activities in the different weathers.

This is a thwumping story, full of passion, humour and heart, and sure to become a new favourite. You can buy a copy here.

Technology in the modern kids’ book

As anyone who lives or works with children knows, technology is an integral part of their day (and night). And it’s cropping up more and more in contemporary children’s literature as writers portray how contemporary children live. Of course Mary couldn’t have texted for help when she was left alone at the beginning of The Secret Garden, any more than Five Children could have googled ‘It’. But today, children in books are not only navigating their way out of trouble with iMaps, and texting parents their excuses for staying out beyond curfew, they are actively using the Internet to seek adventure.

my embarrassing dad

My Embarrassing Dad’s Gone Viral! By Ben Davis, illustrated by Mike Lowery
Nelson’s mum has left, leaving him, his little sister Mary, and his Dad; and as a result Nelson’s life dramatically changes. Written as a series of vlog vignettes as if the reader were viewing Nelson’s videos on YouTube, this is Nelson’s hilariously funny account of what happened to his family.

Of course at the heart of the comedy is the extreme pathos of the situation – his Dad’s sadness, the change in family circumstance, and Nelson’s heartrending search for his mother, but because Nelson’s voice is brilliantly funny from the outset, and because he documents what happens to his father so well and in such a comedic way, this is a laugh-out loud book.

Nelson’s father decides to shake up their lives even more dramatically after his wife leaves, and they move house to the middle of nowhere, with no mod-cons, Nelson’s Dad banning TV, Internet, computer games and even buying a house with no plumbing – the toilet is outside. He takes up whittling as a way to earn money (having previously been an estate agent).

Nelson reports not only the hilarious consequences of his father trying to live ‘at one with nature’ in a Bear Grylls type parody, but he also describes viewers’ comments on his videos, repercussions at school, and the difficulty of making the videos (because of having to hide the equipment, but also the technical hitches).

His relationship with his sister Mary is both touching, and equally funny, as he explains her obsession with a cartoon called Peter the Pirate, and her reaction to sugar overloads.

It takes quite something to make me laugh out loud – this book had me crying with laughter. Delightfully, despite its happy and tech-embracing ending, it also extols the benefits of doing some outdoorsy stuff too. All in all, a very funny, entertaining read. Giggle your way through it here. For age 9+ years.

secret cooking club

The Secret Cooking Club by Laurel Remington

A technically reverse situation in The Secret Cooking Club, because it is the mother doing the blogging. In fact, Scarlett’s mother is a very successful blogger; her blog is about parenting and contains anecdotes taken from her daughter’s life. Twelve-year-old Scarlett finds this mortifying, to the extent that she has stopped doing any activities at school, and pretty much shut down her relationship with her mother to avoid any of her personal embarrassing incidents being related over the Internet.

Then, one day Scarlett discovers a gleaming kitchen in her next-door neighbour’s house – left empty when the occupant is admitted to hospital. Scarlett enters to feed the cat, and finding the correct ingredients on the work surface for delicious cinnamon scones, she starts to bake. Before long, her successful baking leads to a secret cooking club, and has consequences that will change her life forever, and in turn, show her the good side of the blogging world.

This is an intensely readable book, published at a time when baking is in the public headlights, with The Great British Bake Off leading the way. With warmth and mouth-watering descriptions, this is pitched perfectly at a young readership who may be unsure of their place in the world – one in which they have to forge friendships at school, and navigate through tricky family relationships.

A particularly poignant note in this book is the young girls’ relationship with the elderly neighbour, and the cognisance that the elderly need caring for and company as much as young people. For age 9+ years. You can buy it here.

bus stop baby

Bus Stop Baby by Fleur Hitchcock
So many connections are made and held today because of the Internet. When 13-year-old Amy finds a newborn baby abandoned at the local bus stop, she can’t stop wondering about the mother. Her grandmother, Zelda, a feisty loveable character, agrees to help her on her mission to find the missing mother, in return for a few favours of her own. And before long, Amy finds out that there’s more to her grandmother and tales of missing mothers than she had previously thought.

This is a gem of a book – it’s written with warmth and comes across as kindhearted and welcoming. There’s a priceless relationship between Amy and her grandmother that’s never too schmaltzy, but strikes a chord as being quite real – Amy doesn’t adore her grandmother – in fact she finds her difficult at times, but gradually as the story develops, she realises more and more that her grandmother is a person in her own right with a history, and relationships and feelings.

In fact it’s this startling awareness that sells this book. Fleur Hitchcock has drawn Amy perfectly – a young teen who is beginning to look outside herself, and beginning to realise that the world doesn’t operate in just black and white – that there is a great deal of grey space between what’s right and what’s wrong in certain situations.

The baby’s abandonment has resonance for Amy, because her own mother left her and her sister ten years ago, and the book explores the ability of the Internet to plug gaps or create them in modern life – from Amy helping Zelda to find old friends, to Amy talking to her mother in Australia via Skype, to trying to solve the mystery of the missing mother on the Internet.

With wonderful complex characterisation, and true-to-life emotions, this is a great story to provoke thought in your young tween or teen. You can buy it here.

To Read is To Do

There’s nothing like a children’s non-fiction activity book to keep me on my toes and teach me new tricks. Three books that recently caught my attention for their ingenuity, hands-on practicality, and ability to teach by entertaining, are as follows:

ingreedies

Around the World with the Ingreedies: A Taste Adventure by Zoe Bather and Joe Sharpe, and illustrated by Chris Dickason

I already know how to cook, but I was delighted to discover this gem of a food book for children, mainly because it doesn’t just teach how to make flapjacks and cupcakes. The Ingreedies takes a culinary journey through the delectable feasts on offer from countries around the world, explaining native crops, foods, customs and delicacies.

The first thing that hits the reader is the bold illustrations. The book is narrated by colourful cartoon explorers called The Ingreedies. These strange looking, rather vibrant, cartoons, who are typically types of food or spices, travel the world looking for ingredients and recipes – using speech bubbles to convey their dialogue, and interspersing the bulk text with their dialogue. Many of the pages are maps of the world, with introductory paragraphs, but overlaid with the Ingreedies and the food they have found.

The first stop is the Americas, showing a map of the two continents, and highlighting and explaining key ingredients, such as jerk, turkey, maple syrup, quinoa, feijoada and sugar. The book then delves deeper into a few of the countries with facts about farming, traditional foods, history and geography. In the middle of these are some family recipes, including, in this section, haddock chowder, spicy street wraps and brigadeiros.

Each continent is explored in the same way. It’s a fascinating dip into food terms and ingredients, for example, teaching what Americans mean by grits, and the terms for different shaped pasta. There’s a chart showing the potency of chillies, how tarte tatin was invented by mistake (burning the pan), as well as a look at local customs including a French high street and a Thai floating market.

Of course, when in Rome…or rather Morocco – I tested one of the recipes – with spectacular results. Not only was it easy to make, but the entire family liked it.

ingreedies2

With illustrations as vibrant as a Thai stir fry, and as informative as it is tasty, this is a great addition to the cooking canon. It’s not a recipe book – containing just 13 recipes, but it is a brilliant informational book that inspires cooking at the same time. Age 6+ years. You can buy it here.

pinball science

Build your Own Pinball Science by Ian Graham and Nick Arnold, illustrated by Owen Davey

Never one for paper engineering – I had hoped to employ an eleven year old boy to review this amazing book and science set with me. However, he was unavailable, so it was with trepidation that I extracted the flatpack pages and instructions from the box behind this book, and set to work.

The pinball machine instructions are impeccably written and put together, with enough cardboard so that the pinball machine is not only easy to assemble, but hardy enough to play numerous times afterwards (funnily enough, the eleven year old was available to test it out – with strength – many times!) See video at the end of the page.

But, of course, aside from the fun in putting together this pinball machine, the accompanying book teaches the physics behind it. And of course with the practical application alongside, it all makes much more sense.
pinball2

Ingeniously the contents page is a picture of the completed pinball machine – with each part labelled to show the corresponding page number. For example, the flippers are explained in ‘flipping levers’ on page 18, the bumper in ‘bouncing science’ on page 24. Not only was I raring to read about the science behind it, but I felt a warming sense of achievement that I had built it exactly as shown.

The science is about motion, including Newton’s three laws of motion, forces – from springs to gravity, as well as wheels, pulleys, inclines, wedges and screws – all the things I used to make my machine. Within the individual explanations there are also other little practical experiments to exemplify a point – such as using an empty bottle, rice and a chopstick to test resistance.

With stunning illustrations and graphics in Owen Davey’s now very definitive style and colour scheme, this is an absolute scientific treat. For even the most unsciencey among us. This brilliantly hands-on book teaches physics with skill, aptitude and interest and is expertly executed. If every student made their own pinball machine from this book in class, we’d have a country filled with engineers. And this family now has its very own pinball machine to play with. It’s still going strong. And giving oodles of fun. (My only quibble – I wish the book could detach from the box.) Age 8+ years. You can buy it here.

book thinks scientist

This Book Thinks You’re a Scientist, illustrated by Harriet Russell

A while ago a parent showed me a book that her daughter, a reluctant reader, adored. It was called Wreck This Journal – one of many titles by artist Keri Smith that encourages the reader to use the book as a creative outlet – to make mistakes inside, poke holes in pages, deface it etc. This Book Thinks You’re a Scientist is also asking the reader to respond to it – to write in it, play with it, fill it in – but this time with a very positive aspect – it is teaching science.

It wants to instill the idea that you don’t need a white lab coat and a Bunsen burner to be a scientist. You just need to look around and ask questions. From taking a random object in your house and examining it (leading questions are contained in the book), to performing tests on yourself such as running, tipping yourself over and suchlike, to even experimenting on the book itself – “Invent a way to move this book as far as you can in one go.” Although it does warn about lobbing the book across the room at fellow family members!

Bright and colourful, with endless pages of experiments (all easy to perform, none needing any special apparatus), to actual explanations of science: “An object that is moving has ‘momentum’. This means the object will keep going unless another force stops it, like friction or air resistance”, so for example when I hurled the book across the room (at nothing, not a family member) it stopped when it hit the wall.

This book provides hours of fun entertainment, and also teaches something at the same time. Other highlights for me include the puzzle of Farmer John, the fox, the chicken and the corn, the experiment to see if chocolate and ice cream taste different frozen and warmed, and my new-found incredible ability to bend water. And while the reader is doing all these things, they are learning (almost by osmosis, but also by the simple explanations within) about force and motion, electricity and magnetism, earth and space, light, matter, sound and mathematics.

Produced in association with London’s Science Museum, and with snazzy illustrations (check out the superhero) by Harriet Russell, this is a great book to learn while doing. For age 7+ years. You can buy it here.

 

Food for Thought

Do you remember food from childhood books? Winnie the Pooh is synonymous with honey, Paddington with marmalade, the Famous Five with ginger beer. The tiger came for tea, the caterpillar was very hungry, and Narnia wouldn’t have been the same without tea with Mr Tumnus. Food functions as a symbol of togetherness. The OECD found that students who do not eat regularly with their parents are more likely to truant, that children were more likely to be overweight if they didn’t eat with their family at least twice a week (European Congress on Obesity 2014). In a topic close to my heart, researchers found that young children learned 1,000 rare vocabulary words at a family dinner, compared with 143 from a storybook reading (Catherine E Snow and Diane E Beals, 2006).

Three authors have cleverly woven food into their recently published family stories. Do have a look at each very different title.

library of lemons

A Library of Lemons by Jo Cotterill

A sad and touching middle grade story about ten year old Calypso. She lives with her father, and they are both grieving for the death of Calypso’s mother. Her father is suffering so much that his mental health deteriorates and he starts to obsess over lemons for a book he is writing on the History of the Lemon.

Calypso has been told by her father to nourish her inner strength – to show the world a steely exterior rather than exposing her emotions – so she nourishes herself with books and stories. In a compellingly poignant portrayal, Calypso’s Dad is neglectful because of his all-consuming grief, and the cupboards in the kitchen are starkly empty.

Although a loner, and Cotterill portrays this part of Calypso particularly well, leaving the reader feeling that solitude is not a black and white issue – there is loneliness and then there is wanting to be more solitary than others – Calypso does find a friend in Mae, and through her, a family, complete with family meals, and warm, giving parents who expose what is so severely lacking in her own home circumstances. The scenes with Mae shine with affection and are particularly engaging.

Jo Cotterill writes with emotional insight and tenderness in this well-crafted novel. From her clever perversion of the lemons – usually such bright, alluring, wonderfully scented fruits – she twists the metaphor so that the lemons are hidden and grow hard – revealing what happens when fruit is kept in dark places, and when emotions are left hidden in dark places rather than expressed and managed.

By contrasting darkness and light, inner and outer, family/friendship as opposed to loneliness, Jo Cotterill reveals how Calypso can come out of herself and forge a new way forwards for herself and her father. It’s compelling reading and draws on the point that there are always some adults on hand to help a child through such a crisis – from friends to a support network of child carers.

There are some good insights too about children wanting to please their parents and meet expectations, the benefits of writing as a way of venting emotion, and of course, as you will guess from the title, a liberal sprinkling of literary references, and a paean to reading and its comfort.

The characters feel well developed, the ending is not too saccharine – it’s uplifting but with a hint of realism that grief/depression cannot just be turned off like a switch. Easy to read, not too sentimental – this is a bittersweet novel. For age 9+ years. You can buy it here.

caramel hearts

Caramel Hearts by ER Murray

A slightly older, much grittier read, Caramel Hearts tells the story of 14 year old Liv. Liv resides with her older sister while her mother recovers in a unit for alcoholics. Whilst her mother is away, Liv discovers a homemade book of recipes, written in her mother’s hand, and clearly at a time in the past of love and happiness. Liv endeavours to make the recipes within, in the hope that some of that love will come dripping back into her life. Sadly, at the same time, she has to contend with issues at school, lack of money, and her own anger, which comes flooding out of her at the slightest tension or confrontation.

This is such a character-led book that the reader feels invested in Liv from the start, which is important, as Liv doesn’t behave brilliantly. ER Murray’s portrayal of her – her inability to keep her emotions in check, even when necessary – her spontaneous and often not very well thought out decision making, and her wish to fit in, lead her to make some particularly unwise decisions, and yet she garners intense understanding from the reader precisely because she is so well-defined and so real in so many ways.

ER Murray is good at drawing the distinction between right and wrong, and yet at the same time, giving the reader those grey areas of discovery as teens grow and learn which path to choose.

There are some excellent scenes – and a particularly disturbing case of hardcore bullying, as well as the problems and uncertainty that go with being the child of an alcoholic.

Secondary characters are also nicely drawn – no one is completely good or bad – and, as with A Library of Lemons, there is a lovely supporting cast of adults who can help if given the chance – including a particularly wonderful dinner lady.

A love for food comes through of course – the recipes from the mother’s books are sprinkled throughout the text and seem easy to try, and there are references to music too.

The book is all about learning to stand up for what’s right – doing the right thing, but it makes no claims to provide easy solutions or quick fixes. As with the previous book reviewed, mental health – in this case, alcoholism, is dealt with carefully – it’s a long road, and there are no certainties.

Saying that, the ending is also uplifting – friendships are nurtured and thrive, food can be an equalizer, and forgiveness can be healing.

In the same way that A Library of Lemons toyed with darkness and light, this is sweet and sour – the joy that can come from finding a hobby/skill in the baking, the joy of sharing food with friends and family, and the sweetness of nostalgia for their mother in a more positive light, but also the sourness of doing the wrong thing, bullying, getting into trouble and not knowing how to get out of it. Age 12+ years. You can purchase it here.

Sweet Pizza

Sweet Pizza by G R Gemin

For younger readers, with bite-size chapters, is the tale of Joe, a young boy growing up in Bryn Mawr, South Wales. Joe’s mother runs a café, inherited from her father and his parents – who were Italian migrants before the Second World War. The café is failing to make money, and the book follows Joe’s attempts to discover his Italian heritage and make the café great again.

As with the other books featured, food plays a strong role in this book, with Joe’s fascination with learning to cook, the other youths’ addiction to the unhealthy ‘chicken box’ takeaways over the road, and Joe’s cousin Mimi who visits from Italy, and seasons the town with her good looks, but also her belief in fresh ingredients, healthy eating and the healing power of a good meal.

The tone of this novel is hard to pin down – it’s written so starkly, so matter-of-fact and mainly through dialogue, and yet somehow Joe’s feelings do shine through. For this age group the sparseness of the language works quite well, and moves the plot along quickly, although personally I would have preferred some rounding of the parental figures’ characters and a little more detail and description, but saying that, this is an important book for the following reasons.

The backbone of the novel comes from Joe’s grandfather. During the course of the book he suffers a stroke and is hospitalised, but his recordings of his memories of wartime Wales are played as a backdrop throughout the story, and the warmth flows mainly from these recollections.

Joe learns, as does the reader, not only the facts about Italian migrants in Wales during the war – the terrible cost when they were interned during the war, but ultimately the kindness of the community that surrounded the immigrants in Wales.

The gradual realisation that history can teach us something, that having a thriving immigrant community can lend so much colour and vibrancy to a town, and that the kindness of a community can see people through hard times, is a valuable lesson to both Joe and young readers. It’s an interesting study to compare immigrant experiences then and now, and debate the meaning of patriotism, migrants, heritage, and community.

Gemin weaves food and taste throughout his book – from the Italian food to the Polish supermarket across the road, and the coming together at family mealtimes as well as the community (Joe interacts with bus drivers, the doctor’s receptionist, and a whole host of other figures who make up his town). There are also some well-handled incidences in which Joe’s mum is worried about her son’s weight, and steers him away from the greasy takeaways.

An infusion of opera and its stories pervades the text too, and the mouth-watering descriptions of the coffee aroma and bubbling tomato sauces leave the reader lusting after their own home-made Italian meal. Bravissimo. Age 8+ years. You can buy it here.