Food, food, food
I’m thinking of doing a little series of posts on food in children’s books. Certainly there are any number of striking examples to choose from. What are your favorites?
There’s the scene in (the very weird on class politics) A Girl of the Limberlost in which the main character gets a new, charming lunchbox and her previously cold and unloving mother is suddenly compelled to make her all manner of fabulous dishes to put in it. There are the many lovingly rendered meals in the Little House books — especially Farmer Boy — which one imagines are given in such delectable detail in part because of the long winter when Laura Ingalls and her family almost starved.
There are the dormitory feasts that are such a stock feature of British school stories, and their analogs in the early Harry Potter books. There’s the memorable scene in A Little Princess when Sara Crewe imagines “…suppose—suppose, just when I was near a baker’s where they sold hot buns, I should find sixpence—which belonged to nobody. Suppose, if I did, I should go into the shop and buy six of the hottest buns, and should eat them all without stopping.” Even Jane Eyre, which only starts out as a children’s book, gives its due attention to food as a token of kindness and camaraderie.
At Lowood, the dreadful school Jane is forced to attend, the gentle Miss Temple is the only kind adult, and she shows her goodness through food and drink:
“Barbara,” she said to the servant who answered it, “I have not yet had tea; bring the tray and place cups for these two young ladies.”Food obviously looms large in kids’ consciousness, and that importance is reflected in the books they (and I) love. The Magic Pudding, which is practically unknown in the US but fabulously famous in Australia, was supposedly written to settle an argument about what children want to read about — the author, Norman Lindsay, maintained that they were far more interested in food and fighting than in fairies, and the success of The Magic Pudding seems to bear that out. Have you read it? It’s available on Project Gutenberg if you haven’t. It’s a truly loony, anarchic delight. The title character is sometimes a pudding, sometimes a donut, sometimes a steak and kidney pie, and he never runs out, no matter how much of him you eat. He has a sour and cranky temper, and wants only to be devoured; he resents every moment when he is not being eaten most strenuously.
And a tray was soon brought. How pretty, to my eyes, did the china cups and bright teapot look, placed on the little round table near the fire! How fragrant was the steam of the beverage, and the scent of the toast! of which, however, I, to my dismay (for I was beginning to be hungry) discerned only a very small portion: Miss Temple discerned it too.
“Barbara,” said she, “can you not bring a little more bread and butter? There is not enough for three.”
Barbara went out: she returned soon—
“Madam, Mrs. Harden says she has sent up the usual quantity.”
Mrs. Harden, be it observed, was the housekeeper: a woman after Mr. Brocklehurst’s own heart, made up of equal parts of whalebone and iron.
“Oh, very well!” returned Miss Temple; “we must make it do, Barbara, I suppose.” And as the girl withdrew she added, smiling, “Fortunately, I have it in my power to supply deficiencies for this once.”
Having invited Helen and me to approach the table, and placed before each of us a cup of tea with one delicious but thin morsel of toast, she got up, unlocked a drawer, and taking from it a parcel wrapped in paper, disclosed presently to our eyes a good-sized seed-cake.
“I meant to give each of you some of this to take with you,” said she, “but as there is so little toast, you must have it now,” and she proceeded to cut slices with a generous hand.
We feasted that evening as on nectar and ambrosia; and not the least delight of the entertainment was the smile of gratification with which our hostess regarded us, as we satisfied our famished appetites on the delicate fare she liberally supplied.

10 Comments
The obvious one that comes to mind is Charlie and the Chocolate Factory — obviously highly influenced by Roald Dahl's memories of growing up near... was it a Cadbury plant? and all the delicious tempting smells that occasionally escaped. (I believe his public school also was used as a focus group for possible new flavors, although I suspect they never got to eat any ice cream that stayed frozen even on the hottest of days.)
Link to this comment | 7:49 PM | August 12, 2007
Yep, I seem to recall really liking a meal scene in Charlie from before he wins the contest, one that focuses on the family's neediness but still communicates how delicious and pleasant it is for them to have food in their mouths. Also if memory does not mislead, there is excellent food writing in Dahl's The Fantastic Mr. Fox.
Moomins are (it goes without saying) a prime source of good writing about meals. I will go see if I can dig up a nice quote.
Link to this comment | 9:14 PM | August 12, 2007
(Would a good description of Dahl's writing be "sensual"? I was thinking just now that it would work pretty well -- trying to remember what the scene was like of James crawling up through the tunnel in the peach and encountering the hardness of the stone.)
Link to this comment | 9:23 PM | August 12, 2007
Where the Wild Things isnt about food per se, but it does finish with Max being brought back to the room by the smell of food. I enjoy the thought of waking up from a dream to the smell of good food.
My daughter enjoys One Hungry Monster. My favorite part is about the monster sniffing around the child sleeping father, trying to find the crackers in his bed.
Link to this comment | 8:52 AM | August 16, 2007
waking up from a dream to the smell of good food
Particularly after going to bed without any supper.
Link to this comment | 11:41 AM | August 16, 2007
Just occurring to me: food is very important in fairy tales, and Dahl is heavily indebted to the Grimm brothers in this regard. For instance Charlie and the Chocolate Factory is sort of a version of Hansel and Gretel, with a lot of differences obviously. I don't have my copy to hand right nowbut doesn't H & G include some pretty explicit descriptions of what Hansle stew is going to taste and smell like? I might be imagining that. The story whose title I am forgetting, about a man with a magical donkey that craps money, has some good meal scenes. Characters in the Grimm tales (and people in their intended audience) were pretty hungry most of the time, and their fantastic depictions of life in castles often include descriptions of the meals, as do the depictions of neediness in life outside the castles.
Link to this comment | 2:54 PM | August 16, 2007
Where the Wild Things isnt about food per se, but it does finish with Max being brought back to the room by the smell of food. I enjoy the thought of waking up from a dream to the smell of good food.
And In The Night Kitchen is very much about food per se, as Mickey helps with the morning cake. (It was also my absolute favorite picture book as a small child.)
Link to this comment | 4:42 PM | August 18, 2007
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn is, like many books about hungry children, full of scenes of food - how the family stretches a loaf of bread through the week, how Francie lies to get a smushed pie at school, the intricacies of penny candy selection. Come to think of it, penny candy selection is an excellent sub-topic for this discussion. I'm reminded of the detail provided in the All of a Kind Family books about how one chooses and the all important order in which one eats her penny candy.
Link to this comment | 3:17 AM | August 27, 2007
Funny, the minute you said "penny candy selection" I was thinking "oh yeah, like in All of a Kind Family!" That scene of Gertie and Charlotte eating their candy in bed is one of my favorites in the book.
Link to this comment | 7:11 AM | August 27, 2007
I told you once,
I told you twice,
All seasons of the year are nice
For eating chicken soup with rice.
Link to this comment | 8:44 PM | October 1, 2007