ROBERT AND THE WORLD'S BEST CAKE

A spirited boy and his father enjoy a day off in this Swiss import.

While Dad—a hulking, hirsute White man sporting whimsical tattoos and a pink T-shirt with a faux ACDC logo—knits, pale-skinned, redheaded Robert pages through a cookbook. Suddenly, inspiration strikes: Robert will construct a gigantic cake after inviting his toys, Mopsi the dog, and, obviously, his father, to partake. The dynamic duo designs formal invitations, but a sudden gust of wind carries their handiwork off the balcony and down to the street below. Oh, well—on to baking! Safety comes first, and Robert tidies his mess before Dad mixes up batch after batch of “batter” (which behaves more like dough than cake batter). Robert shapes the cake and, once the confection reaches critical mass (twice Robert’s height), festoons the tiered masterpiece with trinkets from around the house. As Mopsi, Dad, and Robert quasi-nosh, the doorbell rings, and the first of a seemingly endless flow of guests arrives. It would seem that Robert’s invitations made their way around the city, leading a race-, gender-, age-, and species-inclusive conga line of cake-craving congregants to the door. Given the scale of this assembly, there’s only one thing Robert and Dad can do: make more cake! The child-centric narrative, with Robert running the show and Dad along for the ride, encourages emulation, and the simple narrative is laced with visual prompts for conversations about familial structure, gender stereotypes, and diversity. (This book was reviewed digitally with 11-by-17-inch double-page spreads viewed at 52% of actual size.)

A vibrant read especially well suited for our indoor era.