Review by New York Times Review
MARGARET WISE BROWN firmly believed that home is where the heart is. For nearly 70 years, her classic bedtime story "Goodnight Moon" has lulled children to sleep with a picture of the warm comforts of home. But if the book is disarmingly heartfelt, it is also undeniably strange. It is set in a mysterious "great green room" where, page by page, the light grows more weirdly crepuscular. The room's curious props include a comb, a brush and a bowl full of mush. Its most memorable line, "Goodnight nobody," could have been written by Samuel Beckett. It is a brilliant children's book, but its brilliance lies in its dreamlike oddity. Like a good witch, Brown weaves a kindly spell, and children succumb. Three new picture books appear to be carrying on Brown's particular brand of hearth-centricity: They swaddle children in the comforts of home, and they are filled with captivating quirks. But at the same time, these books amply demonstrate how much things have changed. In their different ways, the authors use the notion of home for purposes that shoot far beyond Brown's bewitching, sleep-inducing agenda. "A Fine Dessert" is written by Emily Jenkins and illustrated by Sophie Blackall. Its subtitle announces, "Four Centuries, Four Families, One Delicious Treat," which pretty much covers the ambitious narrative of the book. We see a creamy dessert called blackberry fool being prepared four times, in the early 18th, 19th, 20th and 21st centuries. The settings are four households in the English town of Lyme, in Charleston, S.C., in Boston and in San Diego. The cooks are four teams of two, each pairing a parent and a child. In each of the kitchen scenes, the preparation of the dessert is repeated, but with many variations, paying strict attention to historical accuracy. The cream for the dessert arrives via cow, wagon, milkman and supermarket. It is whipped with a bundle of twigs, a metal whisk, a rotary beater and an electric mixer. Through four centuries, we even track the history of refrigeration. Jenkins and Blackall show changes in family dynamics and social mores as well. In a bold and somewhat unsettling choice, they portray a smiling slave woman and her daughter in 1810 Charleston, preparing dessert for the happy, well-fed family of a Southern plantation owner. After the family eats dinner, mother and child huddle in a closet, licking the bowl. Inevitably, the book's theme-and-variations device is a little repetitive and, for a child, rather academic (the fast two pages are devoted to exhaustive historical notes from both writer and illustrator, complete with bibliography). But "A Fine Dessert" has its abundant charms and, with the guidance of a helpful reader, it can serve to nurture a child's budding interest in social history. Even better, the book teaches parents and children how to fix blackberry fool, making the project sound easy and fun and making your mouth water when you hear it read out loud. The title of Carson Ellis's delightful book proclaims its subject: It's called simply "Home." The cover art shows a grid of 21 small images of domiciles, resembling the icons on a computer desktop. Inside, we see different kinds of homes, each accompanied by a bald, declarative sentence (several of the sentences begin with the words "This is the home of...."). The homes are depicted in Ellis's droll illustrations, rendered in muted colors and a faux-naïf style that suggests a younger, hipper Grandma Moses. With the turn of every page, the definition of "home" broadens. We jump from a country house to a city apartment, from a wigwam to a palace, and before you know it, we are in the Old Woman's Shoe, of nursery rhyme fame. By the end we have visited a beehive, a raccoon's nest, a condo on the surface of the moon and the tour bus of a rock band. The band, incidentally, is clearly the Decemberists, the Portland, Ore.-based group whose lead singer is Ellis's husband, Colin Meloy. The text below the picture coyly identifies the folk-rock troupe: "Some folks live on the road." We see the tour bus parked outside a theater, surrounded by band members toting their equipment. Ellis portrays herself smiling and waving from the bus window. Toward the end of the book she reappears in her artist's studio, and in the fast spread there she is again in the window of her own cottage in the country. The text simply states, "This is my home, and this is me." You would think that Ellis's self-referential in-jokes might be annoyingly narcissistic, bypassing the kids to amuse the grown-ups. Instead, her sly humor and irreverent spirit only endear her to kids and grown-ups alike. "YOU NEST HERE WITH ME" is a charmer written by the mother-and-daughter team Jane Yolen and Heidi E.Y. Stemple. The authors have chosen a bird's nest to suggest a child's comfy bedroom and have extended the metaphor over 30 pages: "Like baby bird, your nest can be/Anywhere there's you and me," they announce. In a lovely image by the illustrator Melissa Sweet, the cover shows a young girl fast asleep under a bright red blanket. In the foreground is a nest of sleeping chicks with their watchful mother perched above them. If you read the book from start to finish, you can easily imagine a child fast asleep by the last page. But as with the other two, this book has more on its mind than simply lulling. A mom reads to her daughter at bedtime from a copy of the book itself. The two look out the window at a family of pigeons on a ledge. On the next page a catbird tends her eggs. Next is a nest of wrens. Then come grackles, coots, plovers and so on. This book, you see, is a lullaby in the guise of a child's ornithology primer. To introduce the various bird species, Yolen and Stemple have written delicate rhyming stanzas, each ending with that soothing title phrase, "You nest here with me." Sweet's fine watercolors are gently playful and zoologically accurate. The book's three creators share a consuming interest in birds (just look at the bird catalog on the last two pages). They've come up with a bedtime book warmed by the comforts of home. But it also does the best possible job of encouraging children to become bird-watchers for life. JOHN LITHGOW, the actor and musician, is the author of nine children's picture books, most recently, "Never Play Music Right Next to the Zoo."
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [March 15, 2015]
Review by Booklist Review
*Starred Review* A blackberry fool is a simple recipe that has been around for ages mashed blackberries are folded into whipped cream, then chilled. In this delightful and informative offering, Jenkins and Blackall show families in four centuries making the sweet treat. The book begins in 1710; a mother and daughter pick berries and whip cream using a whisk made of twigs. About 100 years later, a mother and daughter, slaves on a plantation, pick berries and whip cream, but they use a wire whisk, and they're only allowed to eat whatever's left over after serving the masters. Another 100 years later, a mother and daughter buy berries and use a whirring beater, and today, a father and son use an electric mixer to whip cream. The tools and families begin to look different over time, but the recipe is essentially the same, and so is the reaction when kids get a taste Mmmmm. Blackall's elaborate, antique-like watercolor illustrations are stuffed with historical tidbits, and she includes visual echoes that further link each time period. An author's note explains some of the history, which will be useful for little ones curious about the differences. And for kids wondering what all the fuss is about over blackberry fool, Jenkins provides a recipe. A delicious book about a delicious treat.--Hunter, Sarah Copyright 2014 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
In this inventive culinary history, Jenkins (Water in the Park) traces a single dessert through the centuries as four families-from 1710, 1810, 1910, and 2010, respectively-puree blackberries and whip heavy cream to enjoy blackberry fool after dinner. "What a fine dessert!" each cook exclaims. Blackall's (The Baby Tree) scrupulously researched ink, watercolor, and blackberry juice (!) spreads document the dress, furnishings, and cooking methods of each family, and they repay close study and comparison; watching cream-whipping technology evolve is particularly enlightening. Unfortunately, an attempt at historical authenticity backfires as the 19th-century plantation family's blackberry fool is made for them by their slaves. The African-American cook and her daughter are not permitted to eat the dessert they've made; instead, they serve it to the white family, and the two are left to lick the bowl in a dark closet. The historical facts are not in dispute, but the disturbing injustices represented in this section of an otherwise upbeat account either require adult readers to present necessary background and context or-worse-to pass by them unquestioned. Ages 4-8. Illustrator's agent: Nancy Gallt, Nancy Gallt Literary Agency. (Jan.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
Gr 1-3-More than mere confection, A Fine Dessert is a rich and satisfying journey across four centuries, told through the eyes of four families. Beginning with a young girl and her mother picking wild blackberries in Lyme, England in 1710 and ending with a father and son in modern day San Diego, each story is explored through the lens of making Blackberry Fool, a treat consisting of berries, cream, and sugar. Jenkins keeps the text tightly focused on the task at hand: gathering the ingredients, mixing them, presenting the finished dessert, and enjoying the sweet rewards. Each story follows the same pattern, allowing children to observe similarities and differences in across time periods. Technological progress is highlighted in the evolution of the mixing process: from a bundle of clean, soft twigs in the 18th century to a metal whisk made by a blacksmith in the 19th century to a cast-iron rotary beater in the 20th century and finally to the nearly effortless electric mixer in the 21st century. Blackall's ink and watercolor illustrations, accented with real blackberry juice, provide the details that both unify and differentiate the various historical periods. The story set on a Charleston plantation could have been uncomfortable in less capable hands. A spread shows a white family sitting down to supper as a slave family waits upon them. Jenkins and Blackall show rather than tell, allowing young readers to draw their own conclusions about the fact that the characters must hide in a closet to enjoy the dessert they've worked so hard to make. The final spread depicts a modern multigenerational, multicultural gathering. A recipe for Blackberry Fool is included. Simply delectable. -Kiera Parrott, School Library Journal (c) Copyright 2014. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review
In four vignettes, set a hundred years apart from each other, parents and children make delicious blackberry fool from blackberries, cream, and sugar: quintessentially simple. Still, the cream must be whipped, with a different tool each time -- a laborious twenty minutes with a bunch of twigs in 1710 Lyme, England; just two minutes with an electric mixer in 2010 San Diego. Early cooks pick berries; now, they may come packaged from afar -- but the work of sieving them hasn't changed much. Each setting has its kitchen practices, cooks, and meals: in 1810 Charleston, South Carolina, an enslaved woman and her daughter get only bowl lickings, while the master and his family are served the dessert; the San Diego dad and his son host a potluck for a diverse group of friends. Blackall's art, as decorative as it is informative, features lovely (if unrealistic) calligraphic berry bush tendrils to counterpoint her cheery, wholesome figures; a subdued palette of historical tans is warmed with spots of green and pink, blossoming into brighter hues in the California present. It all adds up to a thought-provoking sample of how the techniques involved in a simple task have changed over time; and how people, and food, have stayed much the same, making this an effective introduction to the very idea of history. Recipe, sources, and historical notes from both author (pointing up such changes as following recipes and pasteurization) and illustrator (searching questions on the lives of slaves, her careful decisions on dress, and the engaging information that the mottled endpapers were colored with actual blackberry juice) are appended. joanna rudge long (c) Copyright 2015. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
Blackberry fool is a fine dessert indeed, and people have been making it for centuries. Readers learn from the historical note that the name probably comes from the French fouler and means "smushed up" rather than a silly thing. Blackall's illustrations are as graceful and historically accurate as she can make them, as she and Jenkins take readers to 1710 Lyme, England, where a mother and daughter pick wild blackberries; 1810 Charleston, South Carolina, where an enslaved mother and daughter pick them in the plantation garden; 1910 Boston, where a mother and daughter buy their berries at the market; and finally 2010 San Diego, where a boy and his dad use store-bought berries, an Internet recipe and organic cream. Jenkins tells the story of each family's preparation, and alert children will delight in the different tools and methods used to whip the cream, strain the berries and keep the dessert cold. But everyone licks the bowl clean in the end. Blackall even incorporates blackberry juice as one of her "paints," using it to color the endpapers. The homes and families are wildly different, which makes their shared delight in this simple, ancient sweet all the more compelling. The notes from the illustrator and the historical notes will warm the cockles of teachers', librarians' and parents' hearts. A complete recipe is included too, so readers can run right out and make it for their own families. There is no other word but delicious. (Picture book. 5-9) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
