Easy, Kid-Friendly Cookbooks

So I’ve been interested in cooking for the past couple of weeks. I’ve been using two cookbooks that I like a lot, Girl Food written by Cathy Guisewite and Barbara Albright, and Children’s Quick and Easy Cook Book, by Angela Wilkes.

I made chocolate cookies twice (the first batch was better than the second) and recently, with a little help from my mom, I made spicy chicken burgers for my family. They weren’t as spicy as I wanted them to be, but they were still delicious.

My mom says learning to cook relates to a lot of what I learn at school, like fractions and reading comprehension.  She keeps reminding me to read the entire recipe and to pull out all of the ingredients to make sure I have everything I need. 

So far, everything I made was a huge hit. I can’t wait to see how my next dish will taste.

Mammy & Nanny Tales

As summer winds down to an end, I want to make note of recent releases that explore the role of the domestic help and the modern day nanny in American households.  But, before I begin let me say that for most Black women, reading stories about other Black women with limited opportunities sometimes forced, sometimes of their own choosing, care-taking for White families is weighted with a boatload of historical crap.

First up is Mona Simpson’s My Hollywood, detailing the story of bewildered new mother, Claire, and her live-in Filipino nanny, Lola, hired so Claire can continue her career as a composer.  To be honest, I can’t tell you much more because after reading a little more than 100 pages, I couldn’t take it anymore.  Simpson’s attempt to get inside the head of a middle-age Filipino left me exasperated and disappointed as she struggled to give equal voice to a character she obviously wants readers to admire. For me, her treatment bordered on condescending.

What did resonant with me is Claire’s search for fairness and equality in her marriage as her husband chases his dream of being a comedy writer in Hollywood and Claire struggles to maintain her successful composing career while assuming the role of primary caregiver to their newborn.  I acutely remember those early days with Miss Olivia and being jealous of Loverman as he continued to travel to film festivals and participated on panels and I was desperately seeking the fallacy of fairness while adjusting to motherhood and what seemed like my little girl’s relentless need to breastfeed at will. The tensions in our marriage continued until I made a huge attitude adjustment and began to understand that mothers are irreplaceable during those early years and babies needed the physical presence of their mother in a more intense way than they needed their fathers.

To be honest, my dismay in Simpson’s My Hollywood followed in the footsteps of The Help, the debut novel by Kathryn Stockett. Although I know many readers loved this tale of the inner lives of the domestic help in Jackson Mississippi during the civil rights movement, I was mildly offended.  For me, the granddaughter of a live-in domestic, Stockett’s account, although sympathetic, was little more than a romanticized story of the indignities suffered by the thousands of Black women who, more often than not, spent more time and energy in raising their charges, then they were allowed to spend with their own families.  To make matters worse, word on the street is Steven Spielberg has purchased the rights to make The Help into a feature film.  Lord help us!

Thankfully, Lori Tharps’ Substitute Me, hits all the right notes, with a few jaw-dropping twists!  Released just last week, Tharps tells the story of thirty year old, African American, Zora, who becomes a nanny for Kate and Brad Carter an upwardly mobile White couple living in Brooklyn’s Park Slope. Like the My Hollywood and The Help, Substitute Me alternates perspectives and the story is told through the voice of Zora, Kate and later in the story, Brad.  Tharps paints both Zora and Kate with expansive brush strokes, which colors them as real, thoroughly modern women, warts and all.  If forced to find a fault, I wish Tharps had provided a bit more insight into what makes Brad tick.  For me, the choices he makes late in the story were totally unexpected and threw me for a delightful loop.  Tharps’ thoughtfully explores the depth of the complexities of women of color assuming the role of care-giving domestics in the era of Obama, and the historical baggage that comes with the gig. I regrettably finished the book last night but undoubtedly I’ll be pitching this great read to all and any who will listen.  

Up Next for Mango Mama

Earlier today, I heard this great review on NPR of Bernice McFadden's Glorious: www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=128626809.  I can't wait to check it out.

What's Up With the Vegetables?

So, I’ve been digg’in the Lucy Frank books. I’ve read Just Ask Iris and I’m An Artichoke. I’m also planning to read Will You Be My Brussels Sprout which I believe is a continuation of Artichoke.  My question is why does Lucy Frank use vegetables for titles?  Some titles are predictable like Deenie, by Judy Blume. It’s about a girl named--- Deenie.  That title, I understand, but the vegetable titles, not so much:)

Two for the Beach

I just finished two great books that are perfect beach reads---- Till You Hear From Me:  A Novel, the newest release by Pearl Cleage and the debut novel by Ernessa T. Clark, 32 Candles. 

I love Ms. Cleage’s work and read all of her fictional novels including, What Looks Like Crazy On An Ordinary Day, Baby Brother’s Blues and Babylon Sisters.  She’s created a community of reoccurring characters who inhabit Atlanta’s West End and after finishing the timely Till You Hear From Me, Cleage’s once again, left me wanting more. 

Cleage tells the story of Ida B. Dunbar, who worked in the trenches of Obama’s presidential campaign and now finds herself waiting for the call to work in the White House as a part of the newly elected president’s administration.  Dunbar is the daughter of an outspoken civil rights leader who made controversial statements towards the end of the campaign, which resulted in the alienation of his daughter and other Obama supporters.  After a few months of estrangement, Ida B. is encouraged to reach out to her father after he once again makes incendiary comments, this time targeting the Latino community.  Just like Law & Order, Cleage rips this narrative straight from recent headlines, only to add a few twists and turns that makes this story a real page-turner.

Once I finished Cleage’s book, I was sated and really didn’t feel like diving into anything too deep.   As I was clicking through my wish list in the Kindle store, I ran across 32 Candles.  I first read about this book a few months ago before it was released. I checked out the synopsis and decided to hit “buy” on my e-reader and minutes later I was getting acquainted with the nerdy Miss Davidia Jones, labeled Monkey Night by her mean and hateful, country classmates in Glass, Mississippi.  Davidia is surviving an existence in a household ruled by her alcoholic and abusive mother and emotionally escapes by religiously watching John Hughes movies, dreaming of her “Molly Ringwald ending” After years of torment, Davidia runs away and begins life on her own in Los Angeles,  where she’s transformed into Davey Jones, and the universe bestows upon her a makeshift family that accepts and supports her for who she is. Years later she literally runs into the guy she secretly stalked in high school, and is forced to confront the demons she thought she ditched back home in Glass. 

Although my brief description sounds anything but light and breezy, Clark creates an inner dialogue for Davidia that belies the bleakness of her childhood. It’s a story of being true to ones' self and the importance of righting ones' ship when we drift off course. 

From the start, I envisioned 32 Candles as a movie and rumor has it that it’s been optioned by Miramax.  If eventually it does make it to the big screen, I hope Hollywood doesn’t punk out and finds just the right chocolate chick to play the nerdy Davidia Jones because Ernessa T. Clark has created a character ripe to finally give our brown-skinned sisters the dap they so very much deserve.

Slow Love, Deep Bore

I just finished Slow Love:  How I Lost My Job, Put on My Pajamas & Found Happiness, by Dominique Browning.  Browning was the last editor-in-chief of the now defunct House & Garden.

Slow Love details Browning’s journey of self-discovery after losing her gig of 13 years.  As with many, Browning’s high powered/pressure job came to define her identity trumping that of a single mother, lover, friend, daughter, etc.

Unfortunately, as universal and timely as this story may be, Browning doesn’t move beyond a few illuminating moments which gently prodded her to reconnect with her more authentic self.  At times, this memoir is more than self-indulgent. I often imagined I was sitting next to Browning as she divulged to her therapist and I, along with her beleaguered therapist, stifled more than a few yawns.

Sure, not everyone who finds themselves unemployed needs to get their hustle on with a quickness or their mortgage won’t get paid, but Dominique’s sheltered and privileged status may appear to be an affront to the millions who still find themselves mired in this mess of an economy.   

No Bonus Awards for Tweens

Saturday, I went to the bookstore. I wanted to get the The Lightning Thief because we were reading it in school but the end of the year came and we stopped right in the middle. When I got to the cashier, I handed her my Borders Reward Card and she said, “You must be 16 years or older to have a card.” I’m 11 and I buy and read books. Why can’t I get special discounts? 

When I purchased books at the same bookstore a few months ago, another cashier offered me the rewards card, and I took it and provided my email address as requested.

Now, I’m super confused. What’s my age got to do with it?