Kevin Noble Maillard is a professor of law at Syracuse and writes for the New York Times and The Atlantic. He is originally from Oklahoma and is a member of the Seminole Nation, Mekusukey Band. Fry Bread: A Native American Family Story (Roaring Brook, Oct. 22) is his first book for children; he recently discussed the book, which has illustrations by Juana Martinez-Neal, with Kirkus Reviews.

How did Fry Bread come about? Did you begin with this expansive, universal idea for the book?

I first approached [editor] Connie Hsu [at Roaring Brook Press] with an idea for a board book.  My oldest son was two years old, and I was having a hard time finding contemporary books about Native kids that weren’t about Thanksgiving or Pocahontas. Most were written by non-Natives, and all were about people that lived long ago, like some mythical vanished community. Where were the lullaby books, the I-love-my-dog tales, the Golden Rule books about Native people? I found a few books for young children by Julie Flett and Cynthia Leitich Smith, but I knew there could be more. So I naively thought, “I’ll just write my own.” As if it is as simple as that! Connie very politely declined my first draft of Fry Bread, which I can only describe as “bouncy.” She told me to circle back with something “deeper, more poetic, and a touch more abstract.” And that’s what I did.

Are there picture books you especially love for yourself as an adult? As a parent?

I fall apart every time I read City Dog, Country Frog. There is so much emotion conveyed in as few words as possible. The People Could Fly is a classic, and I was so happy to have my children ask for it independently. I like reading Epossomundas with my children because my Old Southern lady accent is impeccable. (I channel my mother, whose voice sounds like a topographic map). And I have a newfound appreciation for anything by Virginia Lee Burton, who is the champion of all good things verging on obsolescence. 

There are a lot of variations in recipes for fry bread. For instance, you use yeast instead of baking powder.

I also use corn meal, which may be sacrilege to some people. My recipe, one that I perfected over many failures, was given to me by old ladies in my family. This is the beauty of this very simple food that originated from Indian removal. What does it mean to be real? Authentic? Legitimate? This is my bread and butter of research. Who gets to decide, especially when you believe in your own identity? Can someone else tell you that you’re “wrong?” That’s how I’ve always felt about the way that I make fry bread, because it has slightly different ingredients, a different shape, and a different color. But it’s still fry bread. So, I’m writing about a familiar subject—except this time the audience is just shorter. 

How is fry bread a tradition in your family now?

I have two young children, and I taught them to make it. I have this great video of them with flour all over their faces while mixing the dough. (I don’t let them around me when the oil is hot, though). We always make it on holidays, and I’ll fry up a batch for their parties at school. Health-conscious Manhattan parents of their friends will ask, “what is this delicious fried bread?” And this bread takes hours to make! You have to clear out an entire morning and afternoon to make the dough, mix it, let it rise, prepare the oil, fry it, and then get it to wherever you’re going while it’s still hot. I love to walk in a room with the big steel bowl covered with a cloth and see everyone’s faces light up. 

Your Author’s Note hints that you were able to make suggestions for the art in progress.

Juana and I talked a few times, in secret, because we weren’t sure how the editors would like it. (They loved it.) There was an unbelievable amount of back and forth over the visual politics of drawing Native people: No red cheeks. No bare feet. Discussions about skin tones. Discussions about hair. We had numerous readers including Elise McMullen-Ciotti [Cherokee Nation] and Traci Sorrell [Cherokee Nation] who were amazing. I was completely surprised that Juana put my entire family in the book! She asked me to send her pictures, but I had no clue that she was going to include the children, who now believe they are famous. I saw the first illustrations on my iPhone on the 2 train in New York; tears streaming down my face. Seeing these familiar faces really pulled it all together for me.

Kathie Meizner manages a public library in Maryland and reviews children’s books for Kirkus Reviews and the Washington Post.