Jill Lorenzini

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A tiny figure stands on the prow of a dark ship, against a backdrop of blues and grays. The moon and stars dot the sky and shimmer in reflections upon the surface of the water. This is the very first—and perhaps the most captivating—image we see in Thea Lu’s Dive, Dive into the Night Sea, which takes readers on an adventure to a place most of us will never visit.

Lu’s first-person narration makes the reader part of the story, sharing the inner thoughts of its unnamed diver protagonist.The writing is very simple and straightforward, with only one detailed inset with facts about plankton. While this makes the book linguistically accessible to even very early readers, it may leave readers who are looking for more factual information about the ocean wanting. 

The standout of Dive, Dive into the Night Sea is Lu’s artwork, which uses unique perspectives to bring us under the water. We look up at the boat floating on the surface, we peek into a reef, get very cozy with a parrotfish and feel tiny swimming beside enormous whales. The story is told in blue-gray and muted shadowy tones, with a few colors revealed by the diver’s flashlight beam, highlighting the vibrant life in the depths. But even outside the light, manta rays feed, octopuses hide behind rocks and a pod of whales rests. Lu’s art is calm and detailed, making the dive feel safe and interesting, rather than full of adrenaline. That said, keep your eyes peeled for the very last image, which features an extremely large, lurking creature, leaving the story on a bit of a cliffhanger. 

While some of Lu’s fish are bizarre or toothy, nobody is overly scary or dangerous (minus potentially the lurking creature—readers will have to decide). Tranquil colors, relaxed narration and an unhurried feel give Dive, Dive into the Night Sea—as well as the ocean itself—an inviting and dreamlike quality.

Tranquil colors, relaxed narration and an unhurried feel give Dive, Dive into the Night Sea—as well as the ocean itself—an inviting and dreamlike quality.
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For most of us, it is easy to take education for granted: Slogging our way from kindergarten to graduation is something we just have to do. They Call Me Teach: Lessons in Freedom, written by Lesa Cline-Ransome and illustrated by James E. Ransome, takes us back to a time before the Civil War, when education was denied to many. As Cline-Ransome explains in her author’s note, They Call Me Teach is just one representation of what happened all over the South as enslaved Black Americans defied anti-literacy laws—an act that was both rebellion in itself and a part of their larger quest for freedom.

Cline-Ransome’s story focuses on Teach, an enslaved man given this whispered name by those he has taught to read. Written as if Teach is just matter-of-factly telling you about his day, the first-person narration is effortless and beautifully descriptive. Phrases like “a kitchen hotter than August” place you squarely in Teach’s world. There’s an easy storytelling cadence to this book that nearly—just nearly—hides its literary complexity, with lines that are simple yet weighed down with underlying meaning. 

Coretta Scott King Award-winner Ransome, the other half of this married duo, floods the page with deep, antique-feeling watercolors that instantly transport you back in time. Intricate details like a collection of wooden spoons, the shadows of folded clothes on a shelf and the frayed collar of Teach’s shirt pull you so far into the story, you could be standing in the back of the room. Impressive and engaging, They Call Me Teach is also somber—but not without rays of light and hope. Ransome’s art references that of the late illustrator Jerry Pinkney, whom he mentions in the dedication. Clearly, Ransome shares Pinkney’s gift for visual storytelling. 

They Call Me Teach is rich with information and opens a door to conversations about United States history, equality and the struggle for freedom and education. And while They Call Me Teach is geared toward children, older readers will find it just as powerful and moving. After all, when it comes to stories about perseverance, resistance and the power of reading, there is no age limit.

Impressive and engaging, They Call Me Teach opens a door to conversations about United States history and the fight for equal access to education.
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This book about space, featuring words that will literally travel through space, is existentially brilliant. In Praise of Mystery is based on the eponymous poem by U.S. Poet Laureate Ada Limon that is inscribed on the Europa Clipper, a space probe bound for Jupiter’s moon, Europa. It’s an evocative and powerful tribute not only to Earth and space, but also to what brings us together and makes us dream.

There is no mistaking the artwork of Peter Sis, who has been a staple in the children’s book world since the 1980s. Sis often uses unique perspectives and a hint of the fantastical to tackle complex, profound topics, making him the perfect choice to illustrate a book like this one. In Praise of Mystery is like falling into a dream—vibrant and vast, joyful and curious. It is a blur of fantasy and reality: A single drop of rain carries a tree blossoming with life; the moon finds itself within the abstract shape of a whale. There are myriad references and tiny details that would take ages to fully explore and deconstruct. There’s even a nod to Van Gogh, in a subtle homage to our human need to capture the marvels we see. 

Readers can jump to the back of the book to find the full text of “In Praise of Mystery: A Poem for Europa.” Limon’s alliteration, descriptions and precise language are flawless, and you’ll want to read the poem out loud multiple times to let the stunning words sink in. Limon writes of wondrous things above, below and within all of us; the poem is both immense and intimate and will leave you in awe. A brief author’s afterword also gives just enough tantalizing information to send you on a hunt to learn more about Jupiter and the Europa Clipper.

The Clipper will take approximately six years to reach Jupiter and its moons. Countless historical events will happen and countless new lives will be born while the poem travels to a place no human has ever been. For readers of all ages and from all walks of life, In Praise of Mystery is a chance to partake in a small piece of this wonder.

 

Based on the eponymous poem by Ada Limon that will be carried into space by the Europa Clipper, In Praise of Mystery is like falling into a dream—vibrant and vast, joyful and curious.
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Goat and Bunny are BFFs with a lot in common (mainly, coffee and canned grass). However, stressful situations sometimes make their differences stand out. Luckily, Goat and Bunny learn cooperation, flexibility and acceptance as their friendship grows. It Is Okay, written and delightfully illustrated by Ye Guo, is a great pick for little ones learning to navigate life when it doesn’t go their way.

Guo writes with an easy, declarative style that is accessible for little ones and contains a power in its simplicity. Forgoing flowery descriptions for factual narration works well when combined with her explosive art: There’s hardly time to read when faced with such joyful artistic chaos! From the first image of Goat, halfway inside his cupboard, digging around for canned grass, surrounded by debris from his ransacked pantry, Guo illustrates with clear glee. Every page is a cacophony of style and color, hurriedly sketched and meticulously detailed in turn—and absolutely fun. Readers will want to look at every single image for fear of missing something hilarious (watch closely for a slug on an underground toilet). Into this mix come Bunny and Goat, whose facial expressions add to the hilarity. Goat’s face as he waits for Bunny, stuck headfirst and upside down in a tiny rabbit den, will make one laugh out loud. It’s just plain fun art that kids will love. 

But for all the laughs and silliness, It Is Okay has a well-rounded and important message about acceptance that translates beyond yummy ideas on preparing canned grass. It is great to have friends who are different from us. They help us become stronger and more resilient, and aid us in exploring the world in new ways.

For all the laughs and silliness, It Is Okay has a well-rounded and important message about acceptance that goes beyond goat and bunny friendships.
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Magic always occurs when a book’s narration and illustrations are perfectly matched. But an even more special kind of magic happens when the art goes beyond the written word and weaves a quiet message of its own. Comet & Star is a deceptively simple, genuinely sweet story about friendship with an underlying profundity that will touch even the grumpiest readers’ hearts.

Author Juck Lee starts this picture book like a sweet, classic fairytale. Juck’s narration, translated by Stine Su Yon An, is straightforward, if somewhat expected, and lovely as it tells the tale of a charmingly personified, lonely little star. Meanwhile, illustrator Jinhee Lee uses layered colored pencils and varying perspectives to the protagonist’s celestial home and the earth below. 

The gentle-faced little star huddles against a quiet—and empty—space backdrop. High above windswept trees, it earnestly watches for new friends. One day, it meets a comet that passes by every 76 years, finally giving the star someone to connect with. Lee’s soft colored pencil art is full of movement, warmth and emotion; this is a humble little story that is easy to like.

But Lee’s art tells a second story, too: As the comet and star’s friendship unfolds in the skies, their lives are also being carefully documented below through newspaper clippings, photographs and notebooks filled with drawings. Taped sketches, dried leaves and notes of natural observations mark the passing of time and the careful attention of someone who is also watching and waiting. After several rereadings of Comet & Star, a realization hit this reviewer like a comet. The star waits for its only friend to return every 76 years, but here on Earth, it has admirers it could never have imagined—in a sense, friends who observe and love from miles away. That’s the true message of Comet & Star: For every friend you see, there are countless others thinking of you.

Whether you need a gift for an old friend you rarely see, or a bedtime story for a little one who loves to watch the night sky, Comet & Star is the perfect choice. Just like Halley’s Comet, books with this unique magic don’t stop by every day. Don’t miss it.

Whether you need a gift for an old friend, or a bedtime story for a little one who loves to watch the night sky, Comet & Star is the perfect choice. Just like Halley’s Comet, books with this unique magic don’t stop by every day.
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Once upon a time, we didn’t have cell phones. Emergency Quarters, written by Carlos Matias and illustrated by Gracey Zhang, takes us back to those days, while coming with a perfectly worded note for those young enough to not remember technology-free days. Emergency Quarters follows Ernesto through his first week of going to and from school without his parents. Before he heads out to walk with his friends, his mother gives him a payphone quarter to tuck safely away. Full of independence and responsibility, but not completely immune to temptation, Ernesto may be a child of the ’90s, but the essence of his story is timeless.

Carlos Matias narrates skillfully, conveying the thoughts of a child with lines like “But I got emergencies.” Ernesto comes across as generally thoughtful, observant and sincere: a character you can’t help but like. He is even adorably funny, such as when he declares he’s “Feelin’ freshhhh!” Matias uses descriptions, alliteration and assonance to craft a story perfect for reading aloud: just the right length, with good variety between dialogue and narration, and natural flow and rhythm.

Gracey Zhang’s illustrations make Emergency Quarters feel retro in the best way. It’s a comfortable mix between Sesame Street, Jack Prelutsky and Shel Silverstein that is instantly recognizable to those who grew up in that era. Wonderfully messy with imperfect lines and wonky angles, Zhang’s art is filled with more details than you could ever absorb. Every page is so alive and full of energy, I just wanted to visit Ernesto’s world. From Ernesto’s warm, happy house to the busy sidewalks, Zhang fills the neighborhood with kind and expressive faces that radiate safety and belonging.

While Emergency Quarters feels a bit like a tribute to the older generations who navigated their school route with a coin tucked into a pocket, its story will resonate with kids of all ages. Spending time with friends and sharing that little bit of independence. Hearing our parents’ reminders in our heads as we make decisions. And sometimes slipping up, knowing that even if the quarters aren’t plentiful, the love absolutely is.

From Ernesto’s warm, happy house to the busy sidewalks, the neighborhood of Emergency Quarters is alive and full of energy, and its story will resonate with kids of all ages.
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There’s no shortage of bedtime books, but authors and illustrators continue to surprise with their creativity and artwork. The Bedtime Boat may be joining a very full shelf, but its clever and useful take on night terrors is worthy of attention.

Little Chandan has a hard time sleeping—not because he doesn’t want to, but because it leads to his imagination running off, taking him on a journey that starts out fun, but quickly turns into a nightmare. Chandan’s mom, however, has a clever trick: She has Chandan concentrate on a toy boat, which helps him focus his breathing, calming him down and helping him drift off. Sital Gorasia Chapman maintains a steady pulse of rhyming, alliteration and repetition, which makes for good bedtime reading even amid Chandan’s terrors. When Chandan’s mother gently interrupts scary thoughts with her reminder to breathe, speaking in a cadence that feels like the waves she invokes, Chandan—and the reader—can’t help but be soothed.

The Bedtime Boat begins with a literal circus of colors, and one can almost hear the cacophony of rides and voices against cheerful carnival music, evoking what the inside of an active child’s mind might look like after a busy day. As Chandan and his mother head home, the circus gives way to the soft blues of a nighttime routine and, finally, bed. But sleep is interrupted by images from Chandan’s day, and his imagination takes over, pulling him into somewhat frightening dreams of whales and pirates, sharks and treasure. The bedtime boat itself links the real world and Chandan’s dream stories, bringing Chandan safely through these nightmares and back to his bed, where he sets an anchor. Anastasia Suvorova’s art is soft and hazy like a dream, but also intricate, and reality and dream weave together in a manner that reflects those final stages of dozing off. The Bedtime Boat is fanciful, artistic and beautiful—almost too visually appealing to send little ones off to sleep.

The book also gives practical advice—a rarity in this reviewer’s experience—providing back matter with instructions for creating your own paper bedtime boat  to help little ones feel a sense of control. For children who struggle with bedtime, and especially those who experience night terrors, The Bedtime Boat can help put feelings into words.

 

The Bedtime Boat is fanciful and beautiful, with art that is almost too visually appealing to send little ones off to sleep.
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When little Afia can’t sleep, her mind as active as a summer night, she and her papa travel in their imaginations to find love. And find it they do—in the sun-warmed sand, on a snowy mountain top, in the ocean’s friendly waves and even in the darkest night sky. Before she finally drifts off to sleep, Afia and her father discover that love looks like many things across the world; but most of all, it looks like them. What Love Looks Like, written by Laura Obuobi and illustrated by Anna Cunha, is a captivating addition to the bedtime bookshelf.

Against the safe coziness of a cream-colored background, Cunha’s characters are sweet and softly drawn, as well as a little messy and hazy, like a dream. Her oil painting style and warm colors enchant from the start, but as Afia and Papa journey on, Cunha’s art blossoms into magical worlds that feel wondrous and grand while remaining calm and welcoming. Cunha manages to make her art feel both old and contemporary—which means it will never be dated or stale.

Cunha’s artwork is so captivating, it hardly needs accompanying narration, but it’s perfectly balanced by author Laura Obuobi’s beautiful, well-chosen descriptions told with a storyteller’s sensibility. Obuobi’s writing begs to be read aloud and savored, and she peppers her narration with alliteration and a rhythm that pulls one gently forward. Her poetic descriptions are impeccable and lovely, conjuring new settings in seconds. All of these things make What Love Looks Like a perfect last book before bed: Readers may find themselves relaxing and feeling sleepy as they read. 

While there is no lack of picture books to help with bedtime procrastination, What Love Looks Like deserves a spotlight. Not many offerings are so well-matched in their text and art. Indeed, Cunha and Obuobi deliver the embodiment of What Love Looks Like: beautiful things to look at, gentle words before bedtime and someone dear to share them with.

Cunha and Obuobi deliver the embodiment of What Love Looks Like: beautiful things to look at, gentle words before bedtime and someone dear to share them with.
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We all have days where everything feels dull and monotone. Calmly encouraging, Gray examines those emotions and gives its young narrator—and us—space to feel all the colors. 

Author Laura Dockrill writes in a manner that matches how one might feel on gray days: not exactly sad, but flat like “tea when it’s gone cold,” with simple words, short statements and a serious tone. A second look will have readers appreciating Dockrill’s skill at subtly peppering in alliteration, assonance and repetition. Hidden within this deceivingly overcast narration are the keen observations and striking descriptions of a watchful, thoughtful child. Later, another, chattier narrator—perhaps the child’s parent—joins in, turning the monologue into a conversation. But this second voice isn’t here to cheer us up. Rather, they remind us that even gray has its purpose, just as sidewalk puddles give the sun a chance to reflect. It’s a gentle, loving and well-handled approach that stands out against more typical attitudes of forced positivity.

Lauren Child, of Charlie and Lola fame, enlivens a somber day with her spot-on artwork that ventures outside the lines. Just like a little kid’s emotions, the artwork is charmingly messy and crayon-sketchy, bold and straightforward. Child brings us in extremely close, focusing our perspective on the child’s immediate surroundings and foregoing minute details. But her cleverly pared-down art captures a spectrum of emotions. We instantly become part of the child’s struggle, with little to distract us—much like how the child is unable to think about much besides their gray feelings. Child’s characters are always lovable and empathetic. Maybe it’s the side-eye expression she has mastered drawing. We can’t help but care. 

Readers will appreciate Gray for a genuine and realistic voice that will speak to young people (and not-so-young people) without feeling cloying or annoyingly cheerful. Gray doesn’t end in an unrealistic explosion of ecstasy, but in the exact way it should: full of color, not necessarily happy, but safe and calm and wrapped in love.

Readers will appreciate Gray for a genuine and realistic voice that will speak to young people (and not-so-young people) without feeling cloying in its gentle, loving approach.
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It’s rare to experience the type of connection to a character that I had with Emma in I Lived Inside a Whale. I Lived Inside a Whale opens on the chaos of a party where everyone is having a blast, except for our irritated little narrator. Emma just wants a quiet spot to read, so she packs up and moves into the mouth of a whale (a reimagined space inside her bedroom). Her calm new home is the perfect place for reading—that is, until an interloper in the form of an excitable little boy slides in on a skateboard, and Emma’s solitude takes an unexpected turn. Written and illustrated by Xin Li, I Lived Inside a Whale is a touching and beautiful tale of finding refuge in stories, discovering unlikely allies and sharing one’s voice with the world.

Li’s evocative watercolor and pencil artwork echoes and expands upon Emma’s emotions. Clogged city streets, dour rain and constant noise reflect Emma’s feelings of needing to escape. An abundance of little details (stuffed animals, a warm reading light, a cup of tea, a perfect amount of books in disarray) makes her whale home enviably cozy. As Emma begins to share with others the wondrous stories and worlds inside her head, Li’s art becomes broadly imaginative: welcoming and expressive, it feels joyfully created and makes one happy. Little eyes will have fun whale-spotting while following along. A few classic storytime characters—such as those from Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland—also make delightful cameos.

Li narrates with the matter-of-fact voice of a bookish little girl who takes her alone time very seriously. The first-person perspective has the advantage of letting one directly feel Emma’s exasperation, her carefulness and orderliness, and finally, her bliss when storytelling. I Lived Inside a Whale has a moment for every reader, making it perfect for storytime or bedtime or any time in between. We could all use a little vacation these days, and I Lived Inside a Whale is a great escape, no matter your age.

I Lived Inside a Whale is a touching and beautifully illustrated tale of finding refuge in a story, discovering unlikely allies and sharing one’s voice with the world.
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A once-thriving farmers market seems to be in decline, but its people are not defeated, and its community is not without hope. The Last Stand (Knopf, $18.99, 9780593480571) tells the story of a grandfather-grandson duo who keep their vegetable stand going for the neighbors who rely on them. Moving and gently passionate, this picture book by Antwan Eady (author of the acclaimed Nigel and the Moon) with illustrations from Jarrett and Jerome Pumphrey explores determination, tradition, community and love.

A note of appreciation for the clever title: Papa’s stall is indeed the last stand remaining at the market, but the title is also a declaration of resolve. Through poetic and precise observations from the grandson’s point of view, Eady thoughtfully narrates the way Papa moves, looks and sounds. Outwardly straightforward and childlike, these descriptions are layered with meaning and wisdom. Eady’s well-chosen words build a subtle sense of pride and determination. Readers will feel the love Eady has for his rural South Carolina background, which inspired this book and its tone of tangible warmth.

Fans of the Pumphrey brothers’ first book, The Old Truck, will be charmed anew by their handcrafted stamp artwork. Colorful and cheerful, The Last Stand radiates compassion and purpose; this is artwork that feels alive. A strong sense of place permeates each scene, and small details make this world feel lived-in—slightly worn and tired perhaps, but resolute. The Pumphreys fill the pages with people with whom you feel an instant connection, making the book welcoming and homey.

A revealing and poignant author’s note adds yet another layer to this heartfelt story through an educational tribute to the historic—and ongoing—struggles of Indigenous and Black farmers. Papa and his grandson may be the only ones still selling at the market, but they aren’t truly alone: Every inch of The Last Stand is a declaration of solidarity, perseverance and an intent to make a stand.

Moving and gently passionate, The Last Stand by Antwan Eady with illustrations from Jarrett and Jerome Pumphrey explores determination, tradition, community and love.
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Author Ying Chang Compestine mixes a smart, clever heroine into her own take on the Rapunzel story, inspired by Chinese culture and food as well as Compestine’s own childhood. In a world of myriad fairy-tale retellings, Ra Pu Zel and the Stinky Tofu stands out as delightful, energetic and unique: a fairy tale you will happily devour.

The “Rapunzel” of Ra Pu Zel and the Stinky Tofu does, indeed, have a tower and a long braid. But for Pu Zel, daughter of the Emperor and Empress Ra, the tower is a sanctuary where she can cook and eat without hearing constant reminders to be a “perfect princess.” Pu Zel’s mother sends up baskets of food via Pu Zel’s braid, and Pu Zel proceeds to cook for herself and her dog, while happily ignoring the pleas of the many suitors her father sends to woo her down. It will take something much more interesting—and smelly—than songs and kites to get her attention. Compestine, who began telling stories as a child in 1960s China, where Western books were scarce, combines Pu Zel’s straightforward, practical manner with just enough whimsy to make this a great read-aloud.

In her picture book debut, illustrator Crystal Kung creates an enchantingly soft watercolor-and-ink world of mountains and homes that looks as though it could be included in a museum collection of Chinese art. Against this traditional backdrop, Pu Zel and her tower pop in an explosion of vibrant, modern-princess energy. Her family, tutors and suitors are expressive and intricate, clad in exquisite finery. Kung seamlessly blends everything together and fills every page with intriguing details and movement. Her use of light and shadow is especially spectacular; this story feels completely ready for the big screen. Ra Pu Zel and the Stinky Tofu is a brilliant first act that will have readers hoping for many more books from this illustrator.

Ra Pu Zel’s story wraps up with an insightful afterward and a recipe for “Non-Stinky Pan-Fried Tofu” that will satisfy curious, hungry readers. Whether this is your first Rapunzel retelling or your 50th, Ra Pu Zel and the Stinky Tofu has all the ingredients to entertain, delight and surprise readers (and fairy tale collectors) of all ages. And for those looking for a happily ever after, it’s stinky tofu for the win.

In a world of myriad fairy-tale retellings, Ra Pu Zel and the Stinky Tofu stands out as delightful, energetic and unique: a fairy tale you will happily devour.
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Millie and her grandmother love making dumplings together, which requires a trip to buy ingredients and see their friends in the bustling, lively neighborhood of Chinatown. This heartfelt picture book takes an unexpected but honest turn when Laolao’s age causes her to become less independent and unable to cook. But rather than spend her days feeling sad, Millie fills her time cooking for Laolao and practicing the simpler recipes her beloved grandmother taught her. When Millie decides to attempt the dumpling recipe, Laolao’s family and friends step up to help her in a beautiful show of community. 

Laolao’s Dumplings is warm and soaked through with colorful cheer. Laolao’s inviting house is full of grandmotherly decor, while Millie is instantly likable with her big smile and red cheeks. In a delightful burst of fantasy, smells and tastes that Millie experiences—such as jasmine tea or lychee—transform into jolly little floating creatures, giving the sense that Millie’s joy is so big it becomes impossible to contain. Above all, ShinYeon Moon’s depictions of Chinatown stand out with vibrant, energetic streets pleasantly bustling with shoppers and vendors of all kinds. Intricately detailed with signs and stores and produce, Moon’s Chinatown is so full of life it’s impossible to not feel a connection. 

Dane Liu’s first-person narration stays fun and fresh with plenty of innovative descriptions and alliteration. Succinct, spot-on imagery creates a strong atmosphere while propelling readers through the story. Liu manages to also seamlessly weave in mini lessons on Chinese culture and traditions without overloading on the word count, keeping Laolao’s Dumplings perfect for storytime and school curricula. 

Laolao’s Dumplings is a story of family and community, of tradition and culture, of curiosity and determination. By the end, this reviewer wasn’t sure what was more enticing: making (and eating) dumplings, or exploring the bustling shops of Chinatown. The story ends with a recipe, making the former quite possible. As for the latter, this book allows readers to take imaginary trips to Laolao’s welcoming neighborhood as often as they want.

Warm and soaked through with colorful cheer, Laolao’s Dumplings stays fun and fresh with plenty of innovative descriptions and alliteration.

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