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?

He Reads Too

This year, instead of giving the kids a list of required reading for the summer, my kids’ school sent home  reading logs and suggested that each kid read at least 20 mins. a day.  I knew this wouldn’t be an issue for Livy Girl, but I’m not sure how this is going to go over with my 8 yr. old, Yannick.

Yannick is a different kind of cat.  He definitely marches to his own beat, at his own pace.  He’s smart, funny and very rhythmic. He loves percussions and The Beatles and displays infinite patience as he follows the detailed directions of the most intricate Bakugan.

Yannick’s teacher distributed the class’ reading logs early last week and Yannick surprised me the first night, when without any prompting, he grabbed one of the paperbacks his Aunt Allyson gave him for Christmas and read until he feel asleep on the couch. The next morning, he dutifully filled out the log and asked for my signature to verify his entry. He’s followed this same routine every day this week and even asked me to take him to the library so he  could check out a few books. 

Today, Yannick and his sister hung out at Borders while I ran a few errands in the shopping center and when I returned, Yannick seemed a bit frustrated because he hadn’t found a book yet.  He asked if I’d help him look and I soon realized that other than comic and graphic books and the Magic Tree House series, books for boys his age are a bit limited.  I tried to convince him to look at Encyclopedia Brown series, but as with most kids, my enthusiasm made him completely tune me out, and trying to find something age-appropriate with a male of color as one of the lead characters was impossible.

Right now, it seems as if Yannick enjoys reading graphic novels and comic books.   When he was in the first grade, he was really into Dav Pilkey’s Captain Underpants, but now he enjoys Jeff Smith’s Bone series. At the library, he was excited to discover the Black Lagoon Adventures by Mile Thayer.  I must admit, his recent reads don’t appeal to me in the least, but he’s been whipping through them, while filling the first sheet of his reading log. 

Need to Read at Lightening Speed

In my English class we’re reading The Lightning Thief by Rick Riordan. But, instead of Tr. Scott reading aloud, we're listening to it on CD, and today I just couldn’t take it. The actor on the CD reads WAY too slow!  I decided to tune out the CD and I read ahead on my own.

I’m really starting to like The Lightning Thief and for me to really comprehend the story, I need to read at my own pace. I keep telling Mango Mama that at the end of this week, when school ends and summer vacation begins (YAY!), I’m going to have to buy the book so I can finish it because at the rate we’re going, we’ll never get to the end by Friday.  

My family and I checked out the movie, Percy Jackson & The Olympians:  The Lightening Thief, earlier this year, and when I think about the movie, I realize how much they took out of movie.  The book is a lot better. I can’t wait until I buy the book!!!!!

My Little Buddy

So maybe a week or so ago I had a first grade buddy. At my school, “younger” buddies are usually assigned to the older kids and my fifth grade classmates and me were asked to read short, little books to first graders. This buddy session, my first grade buddy, Sara, started to read first.  She read Little Witch’s Bad Dream by Deborah Hautzig. She read the book perfectly!! She didn’t miss one word. Then, she read a another book. Now, the teacher said that the fifth graders were supposed to read too, but did I get to read to her?   No!!!!  Little Miss Sara read three whole books and I didn’t read even one. When my classmates and I went back to our classroom, everybody was complaining about having to read little kid books, but I had nothing to say because my little buddy seemed perfectly fine with reading to me or just herself.  She suited me fine!

Back Down Memory Lane

I wasn’t always a reader.  In kindergarten I was diagnosed dyslexic and although it was 40 years ago, I remember vividly the slow and tedious daily one-on-one instruction I received at Evans Elementary.  I dreaded the inevitable charge to read my assigned paragraph aloud and hearing my classmates giggle as I struggled with the easiest of words.  It took about four years of special classes for my brain to automatically switch the letters on the page to their correct order and even today, if I attempt to read late into the night, when real fatigue sets in, the words on a page begin to slip into a jumbled mess.  In college, pulling an all-nighter was useless.  It was better for me to go to bed, get a good night’s sleep and get up refreshed and ready to hit the books at 5am.

Something happened in 5^th grade.  I was a new student at St. Louis and somehow as I struggled to fit in and find my way, I noticed that reading didn’t seem as laborious. It was like a light switch had been hit and all of a sudden, everything on the page made sense. I began to read furiously, I couldn’t stop.  When I finished one book, I had to have another waiting in the wings and if I didn’t have a book to put my hands on, I’d read whatever was in front of me, including the milk carton as I ate my cereal in the morning. I see some of these same habits developing in Livy Girl.  She reads while eating breakfast and well beyond her 9pm bedtime.  She loves to receive Borders or Barnes & Noble gift cards.  She even memorizes upcoming release dates for new titles by her favorite authors.

My favorite author when I was my daughter’s age was Judy Blume. I inhaled everything she wrote.  I especially loved Deenie, Are You Their God? It’s Me, Margaret and a little later, I was one of the first girls in Sister Vincentine’s to read Blume’s Forever.  I can’t remember if I had my own copy of the paperback or if I simply inherited the book that was being passed around among the other readers in my class.  I do remember the sections colored by a yellow highlighter, which detailed the scandalous heavy petting and French kissing.

I was never one of those girls who dreamed about my wedding or even getting married, but I do remember thinking that if ever I had a daughter, I’d introduce her to Judy Blume.

I know a lot of people who travel down memory lane when they hear the first few notes of a certain song, but for me, my personal history is marked by what I was reading at the time.  I still have the peanut butter stained copy of The Color Purple my mother included in a care package she sent to me my freshman year at Hampton. Also in the box was a jar of Skippy peanut butter that cracked in transit and the oil from the jar seeped into the first 100 pages of the book.  The works of Toni Morrison consumed my junior and senior years of college and I was reading Coming Through Slaughter by Michael Ondaatje when I met my husband in France.

A few years ago, two of my dearest girlfriends moved beyond a day’s travel and I suddenly found myself feeling rudderless and an invitation to join a book club introduced me to a wonderful group of women who have become good friends.

I’m always recommending books to people I know.  I strike-up conversations with strangers when I notice they’re reading something I’m familiar with and I can talk about my favorite books/authors for hours on end.

They’re few things that are a constant in life, but since I was ten, reading has been a constant friend, provided comfort and sometimes even an escape.

Go Read a Book!

Have you ever been so aggravated that you would do anything to just make your parents or siblings (a.k.a my brother, Yannick) leave you alone?

               

Whenever I’m bored and complain to my mom about it, she always tells me to “Go read a book!”  She’s been giving me the same answer for years. Once I do what she says, and I read a book often until real late and then, guess what, she tells me to stop reading and go to sleep.

My mom is right about reading. Once I really get into a book, it’s like I’m traveling, doing something and my boredom's gone. The book I’m reading now, Gilda Joyce “The Dead Drop” is set in Washington D.C. She’s working as an intern in the Spy Museum. In another book I just finished reading, The Mysterious Benedict Society, the main characters are whisked away on a secret mission to away fictional island, Normasan Island.

So for me, reading takes me to different places and do different things without leaving home, it’s all in my mind.

Kudos!

Kudos to my new favorite writer, Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie, has been named one of the New Yorker’s 20 Under 40. 

I first learned of Adichie after checking out her TED address on the danger of a single story. Since that introduction, I ferociously read all of Adichie’s books including her most recent release, a book of short stories entitled, The Thing Around Your Neck; after which I fell headfirst into Purple Hibiscus and her haunting Half of a Yellow Sun. Chimamanda is one of those few authors that just can’t write them fast enough for me.

Welcome!

Livy Girl: I am an eleven year-old reader. I’ve always enjoyed reading but in 4th grade, I found the book, Fairest, by Gail Carson Levine, and since then, I’ve enjoyed the adventures you sometimes find only in a book. I love the way my favorite authors lure you in her/his book like a spider’s web. You go to wonderful places, meet different creatures, find excitement, mysteries and all sorts of things.

I like sharing the books that I enjoy with my friends and I look forward to sharing my thoughts about my favorite books on this blog.

Mango Mama: I remember when I was pregnant with Livy Girl, oh so long ago, and my husband and I used to talk about our dreams for our first child. I would always say that I pray this child will share my joy of reading. Reading has always been a vital part of my life. I’m an only child and the characters in my Judy Blume books were often my closest companions. In spite of the busyness of being a wife, mother of two and working full-time, books and reading still provide a daily respite.

It looks like my prayers have been answered, both of our children love to read and I hope you’ll join us as we share our adventures in reading on this blog.