Just One Itsy Bitsy Little Bite/Sólo Un Mordadita Chiquitita

Standing at the door is a hungry skeleton dressed in a mariachi suit who offers to sing Joaquín and his mother a song in exchange for just one itsy bitsy little bite of the sweet bread. It seems like a fair exchange, so they agree to share. But before the skeleton can begin singing, two more knock at the door and offer to play their accordions for just one bite of the bread. And then, three show up and want to play their guitars, four want to play their maracas and five want to dance all for just one itsy bitsy little bite of the Mexican sweet bread!

Arturo and the Bienvenido Feast

Arturo and his grandmother return in this charming bilingual sequel. Abue Rosa and Arturo are making a welcome dinner for Tia Ines’ new fiancé using plaintains, pollo, and pastel. With a bit of creativity, Arturo takes charge and creates a welcome feast like no other. Charming illustrations infused with the colors of the Southwest bring this touching story to life. A glossary at the end provides explanations and pronunciation for key words.

Eat, Leo! Eat!

Leo wants no part of sitting down with his family to eat Nonna’s big, delizioso lunch every Sunday. “I’m not hungry,” he insists. Not hungry? Hmm. Clever Nonna gets an idea. She’ll use a story to lure Leo to her table. And since the pasta in her soup, called stelline (little stars), is woven into the story about a boy who journeys to his grandmother’s at night, it works. But again on the following Sunday, Leo doesn’t want to eat. So Nonna expands her story, this time adding some chiancaredde (paving stones), the name of the pasta she’s serving that day, to create a path for her character to follow. Now Leo’s hooked.

The Missing Chancleta And Other Top-Secret Cases / La Chancleta Perdida Y Otros Casos Secretos

Flaca’s chancleta, or flip flop, has gone missing! She prepares to investigate the theft: “Pencil and notepad: in hand. Straw hat for disguise: on. Magnifying glass: Check.” She interviews each of her family members, all of whom are suspects. Oddly, their stories check out, so Flaca will have to dig deeper to find the culprit.

Why Are You Doing That?

Chepito is full of questions. Why is his mother cooking eggs and frying beans? Why is Manuel digging around the corn? Why is Ramón milking the cow? Why is Maria slapping dough between her hands? In this simply told story, a little boy learns all about food and where it comes from. Following on the success of What Are You Doing? Elisa Amado and Manuel Monroy have created another gem of a picture book, this time about food — where it comes from, how we nurture food plants and animals, and what we eat to be healthy and strong. Manuel Monroy sweetly depicts Chepito’s world — a rural community where people grow much of their own food and raise chickens and cows — giving young children a clear picture of the origins of foods they consume every day. Includes a short glossary.

Tamalitos: Un Poema Para Cocinar/A Cooking Poem

In his fourth cooking poem for young children, Jorge Argueta encourages more creativity and fun in the kitchen as he describes how to make tamalitos from corn masa and cheese, wrapped in cornhusks. In simple, poetic language, Argueta shows young cooks how to mix and knead the dough before dropping a spoonful into a cornhusk, wrapping it up and then steaming the little package. He once again makes cooking a full sensory experience, beating on a pot like a drum, dancing the corn dance, delighting in the smell of corn . . . And at the end, he suggests inviting the whole family to come and enjoy the delicious tamalitos “made of corn with love.”

The Princess and the Peas

Lily-Rose May will not eat her peas. Even when her father turns them into the most fabulous smoothies, shakes, or cupcakes, Lily can always tell they are there and turns her little nose up at them. Luckily, the doctor knows exactly what to do. He diagnoses an incurable case of princess-itus and sends Lily to live at the palace. Unfortunately for Lily-Rose May, the perfect food for a princess is . . . well . . . that would be telling!