Whopper Cake
On Grandma's birthday, she makes this pronouncement: Now listen up, / don't make a fuss, you hear? / Land sakes! I swear your cakes are / getting bigger every year. But Grandpa has an itchin' . . . to traumatize the kitchen—and a vision too big to be contained by spousal directives, kitchen, pan, or oven. Writing in bouncy verses, the author of Bear Snores On (2003) and others chronicles the ensuing, supersize baking project as Grandpa swaps spoon for oar and blends his batter in a pickup truck. The story isn't as layered as its enormous, sun-baked dessert, but the tall-tale premise provides lots of grist for Hillenbrand's oversize paintings, which capture the messy, experimental energy of a baker gone berserk and cast everything in a decorator's sugary hues. A closing message about cleanup is well placed, especially given the impetus to traumatize the kitchen provided by the appended recipe—for a normal-size chocolate cake, alas. Mattson, Jennifer