Part recipe, part poem, this book takes the reader step by step through the creation of corn tamales with cheese filling. Accompanied by Domi's color-rich, whimsical watercolors, both the Spanish and translated English text of this bilingual volume lyrically convey the magical art of cooking. The elements of the recipe that may require adult supervision are marked with an asterisk.

Argueta-s fourth bilingual -cooking poem- is built around another elementally simple dish: tamalitos, -little tamales- of corn and cheese. The poem unfolds as a recipe, narrated by a boy who is well aware of the importance of corn in his family history: -Our indigenous ancestors ate/ tamalitos made from corn./ It also says in the Popol Vuh,/ the sacred book of the Maya,/ that the first men and women were made of corn.- Bright colors blend like tie-dye in Domi-s naïf watercolors, which alternate between scenes of the boy assembling tamalitos and more esoteric images of celebration. While the soaking, kneading, and steaming of these basic ingredients lacks some of the drama of Argueta-s earlier books, Domi-s paintings communicate plenty of enthusiasm, and readers may feel the pull to -Baila la danza del maíz.- Ages 4-7. (Apr.)

K-Gr 3 Argueta takes readers on a journey from "the Popol Vuh/the sacred book of the Maya," where it says "that the first men and women were made of corn," to their own kitchens, where "it's very easy to make/corn tamalitos stuffed with cheese." Threads exploring the cultural and historical resonance of corn and masa are woven throughout this free-verse offering. The young narrator mixes his dough, drumming and dancing "the Nahua corn dance/and the Maya corn dance/and the Aztec corn dance/and the powwow dance/and the corn dance/of all the people of corn." Argueta places Spanish and English translations of his lively verse side by side, allowing readers to savor the flow and vitality of both languages. Some younger children might benefit from a little more detail when it comes to cooking tamalitos while nonetheless appreciating the effusive celebration of Latin American culture and cooking. Steps where adult assistance or supervision is required are noted. Domi's vivid, watercolor wash illustrations, full of bold primary and secondary colors, provide an able counterpart to this ode to "these tamalitos made of corn with love. Ted McCoy, Oakland Public Library, CA

The latest of Argueta's free-verse recipes is a savory tribute to corn--as ancient a foodstuff as it is delicious. Presented in bilingual passages with the Spanish over the English, his directions begin with an invitation to think about "kernels of corn-- / white, yellow, blue ones, / purple, red and black ones-- / like a rainbow / when it's drizzling." Following references to corn's antiquity, he goes on to describe how to gather the simple ingredients, assemble the tamalitos and cook them, all while dancing "the Maya corn dance / and the Aztec dance / and the powwow dance / and the corn dance / of all the people of corn." Using a high intensity palette, Domi reflects the author's infectious energy in watercolor on wet paper, painting scenes of broadly grinning young cooks capering through cornfields and kitchen, demonstrating how to hold and stuff the corn leaves and then, in the end, chowing down: "Ummmm, ¡qué deliciosos tamalitos, / estos tamalitos de maíz hechos con amor!" Rather than list "oil" and "fresh white cheese" as ingredients, the author could have been more specific, but this is a minor quibble. Steps that require adult assistance are signaled throughout the text with asterisks. Even for novice chefs (and readers) the "Ummmm"s are easily attainable. (Picture book. 4-8)

"When I say I'm going to make tamalitos / I think about kernels of corn white, yellow, blue ones, / purple, red and black ones like a rainbow / when it's drizzling." Argueta's latest cooking poem, essentially a recipe, serves up playful prose in both Spanish and English, and is complemented by Domi's broadly stroked, saturated watercolors. As he did in Guacamole: Un poema para cocinar / A Cooking Poem (2012), Argueta provides rich, sensual descriptions of the process; in this case, as two siblings prepare tamales in the kitchen, we hear what the dough should feel like ("neither too squishy or too squooshy") and catch a whiff of the yummy smells. In fact, the whole poem invokes singing, dancing, and celebration. The joyous rhythms of Argueta's text are animated in the artwork, and by the end of the poem, readers will be ready to roll up their sleeves and make some tamalitos of their own. All stages of the recipe that require adult supervision are marked with an asterisk.