MEATBALLS FOR GRANDPA

Can taste and smell help Grandpa recognize his grandchild?

“On the days we make meatballs for Grandpa, my feet fly up my grandparents’ driveway.” A double-page spread shows a child—auburn hair tied back in a ribbon, red-shoed feet sprinting houseward, loose shirt and green skirt flapping. Turning the page, readers learn that although Grandpa hugs Felicia, “sadness pokes through my smile when Grandpa looks at me without knowing who I am.” Grandma cheerfully tells Felicia not to worry: “Taste and smell are all we need.” She winks when Felicia asks whether Grandma is referring to meatballs or Grandpa. In the kitchen, Grandpa continues to look confused, even when reminded of his own nickname for Felicia. Felicia and Grandma prepare a pot with olive oil, garlic, and onion and let Grandpa pour in a can of tomatoes. Giggles ensue. Colorful, semirealistic art and an excellent layout complement the text, showing the trio happily engaged. Throughout, Felicia’s joy is intermittently punctuated by worry about Grandpa. The text continues its gentle humor and carefully chosen phrases—including some in (translated) Italian—until the table is set and all three sit down to a dinner of spaghetti and meatballs. Readers with relatives affected by dementia now have Grandma as a role model; all readers will feel closure from Grandpa’s breakthrough moment. Characters are light-skinned.

A sweet tale about the power of food, laced with meaningful lessons.