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.

Mika, a spirited young girl clad in a tiger costume, is enjoying imaginary adventures at home when her stuffed frog gets trapped in the washing machine—which she calls “the gurgler” due to the worrisome loud noises made by its wash cycle. Horrified to see Frog caught in its turbulent grip, Mika mounts a daring rescue with the help of her other stuffed pals, Spider and Caterpillar. 

Written by Agata Loth-Ignaciuk, Mika and the Gurgler is a simple tale elevated to epic proportions by Berenika Kolomycka’s lively comic-style illustrations, which draw young readers right into Mika’s emotions, allowing them to imagine her thoughts from page to page. The bright orange of Mika’s cute tiger costume is a visual landmark throughout that stands out against the light blues and teals of the laundry room. 

Mika valiantly displays the fierceness suggested by her costume as she leads the charge, announcing to her other stuffed animals: “We have to save Frog!” Meanwhile, Frog’s bulging eyes heighten the drama as he peers out from within the gurgler. Aside from some beginning and ending dialogue between Mika and her mom, a significant portion of the book is wordless, punctuated by various onomatopoeic sounds made by the washing machine (“beep,” “klik,” “gurgle”) and Mika’s alarmed utterances (“Frog!” and “AAAAAH!”). As a result, many preschoolers will be able to enjoy this book on their own, especially after hearing it read aloud once or twice.

Mika’s household dilemma is reminiscent of Mo Williams’ delightful Knuffle Bunny: A Cautionary Tale, which features a laundromat. Mika and the Gurgler is a lovely ode to imagination and the special bond between children and their favorite stuffed buddies.

A boy and a girl live in cities in two different parts of the world. Though it’s not explicit in the text where each resides, it is easy to tell the boy and his mother live comfortably, while the girl and her father live in the midst of war, and their safety is never a given. 

As both pairs go through their daily lives, their respective experiences mirror each other, and their destinations converge upon a single point: a brightly lit Ferris wheel, turning slowly on its axis as it offers a new perspective from every point in the sky. 

Author Tulin Kozikoglu and illustrator Huseyin Sönmezay’s picture book The Ferris Wheel is a beautifully profound yet subtle story about refugees and global connection. This book captures the essence of what a picture book should be: The text and illustrations are in complete conversation, providing context and bolstering each other. 

Across seemingly simple spreads, the parents’ dialogue often matches verbatim: “On the street, Mama says, ‘Be careful.’ / On the street, Papa says, ‘Be careful.’” But small differences carry larger implications: For example, as each pair passes a candy store, the boy’s mother says, “Not before lunch,” while the girl’s father says, “Not anymore.” 

Sönmezay’s stunning digital illustrations are as textured and tangible as if one were standing in front of a physical canvas. Bordered by white frames containing the text, the images possess a strong dimensionality that foregrounds each parent-child pair while offering many background details to explore. Sönmezay makes the meaningful choice to keep the color palettes similar throughout both settings, showing that there can still be vibrance in dire circumstances. The varying contexts depicted in each street scene are likely to prompt questions and fruitful conversations. 

Though drawn from Kozikoglu’s experiences growing up and living in Turkey—which her author’s note describes as “a land of ‘comers’ and ‘goers’’’ due to centuries-old, ongoing political turmoil—The Ferris Wheel itself is not specific about time or place, which adds to the universality of its deceptively simple narrative. While the overarching metaphor of the ferris wheel itself may not be immediately clear to young readers, the book will begin a conversation that can be returned to again and again.

Kids (and whimsical adults) often wonder what it would be like if inanimate objects came to life. Thanks to Leigh Hodgkinson’s The Princess and the (Greedy) Pea (Candlewick, $17.99, 9781536231328), they can marvel at a tiny vegetable who becomes voraciously self-aware.

One moment, the titular pea is just one among many heaped in a beautiful decorative bowl. The next, he’s standing with arms aloft declaring, “I am SO hungry!” But he doesn’t just have a little snack; no, he gulps down a Brussels sprout and makes his way down an elaborate banquet table, hoovering up all the food he encounters with hilariously messy results. 

Hodgkinson, who is known for her work on the British children’s TV shows “Charlie and Lola” and “Olobob Top,” as well as numerous books such as Troll Swap, has created a visual feast of a picture book replete with vibrant colors, intricate patterns and expressive characters, such as the observant cat, who gapes at the pea’s antics—which include comical repurposing of the lacy tablecloth. 

Inspired by “There Was an Old Lady Who Swallowed a Fly,” The Princess and the (Greedy Pea) is also a cumulative rhyme. The text grows (along with the pea) as the pages turn, adding lines such as “It made him sneeze / when he guzzled the CHEESE” onto the refrain “Without a doubt / he swallowed a sprout. / What’s that about?” 

The fairy tale “The Princess and the Pea” is folded in as well: It turns out a purple-clad princess was anticipating the feast. Alas, the louche legume has consumed nearly every crumb and left behind a graveyard of broken crockery, so the frustrated princess must go to bed hungry. But her bed is so uncomfortable! Kids will crack up when they realize why. The Princess and the (Greedy) Pea is a slyly funny, wonderfully rendered reimagining of children’s classics that will have kids clamoring for a reread—and a giant bowl of green peas, too.

tree. In order to get more fruit, Baby Bear needs to climb. As he begins to make the long trek up the tree, he runs into other red creatures: a tiny caterpillar, a frisky squirrel and a rambunctious hive of bees. Still, there is no fruit to be found!

But what’s that coming up over the horizon? It’s big and red and beautiful, and Baby Bear leaps to grab it—but tumbles back down to the world below, passing his newfound friends and falling back into the safety of Mama Bear’s arms.

Curiosity is the driving force behind Lee Gee Eun’s picture book The Red Fruit, which captures the natural wonder that all kids experience through Baby Bear’s desire to see what fruits he can find at the top of the tree. The book’s message doesn’t need to be subtle to be sweet: If kids try something and fall, their own Mama Bear (or the equivalent parental figure in their life) will be there to catch them.

Lee’s international honors include the Bologna Ragazzi Award. Her black-and-white artwork shines in The Red Fruit, where her minimalist illustrations create a landscape that feels wide despite the book’s trim size. Baby Bear’s quirky facial expressions are adorable and perfectly portray a child’s unbridled inquisitiveness. Lee’s splashes of red and yellow against the monochrome world will offer a great introduction to color for parents and teachers looking to educate.

Pair this sweet and beautifully illustrated story with Cat Min’s Shy Willow, Corey R. Tabor’s Mel Fell, and Grace Lin’s A Big Mooncake For Little Star for story times that explore the risks and rewards of curiosity.