Book Review: Cora Cooks Pancit

Growing up, I spent a lot of time in the kitchen with my mom. Whether it was helping stir the vegetable sak or rolling out pooris, whether we were cooking for a weeknight dinner or a party, I was expected to help out. So much so that hospitality, cooking and feeding people has become ingrained in my mind as part of what it means to be an Indian American woman. To be sure, duty and bonding mixed around the swirls of garam masala and cumin. These are happy memories for me, and cooking in the kitchen was one of the ways I came to understand my mom best.

When I first read Dorina K. Lazo Gilmore’s children’s book, Cora Cooks Pancit, so many memories of my childhood came rushing back. Dorina is one of those incredible authors, whose multicultural background – including Indian, Filipino and Italian – drip through each page of her book. The story revolves around a young girl named Cora, who (like me) loves the kitchen and “the smells of her Mama’s Filipino dishes.” She wants to help out in the cooking, but her older siblings get all the fun, grown-up jobs, like shredding chicken and mixing noodles in the pot. One day, however, Cora finds herself at home alone with her mom, and together the two of them make a delicious meal called Pancit. It’s an exciting moment in this young girl’s life, a moment that fills her with pride and is rich with her family’s history.

I’m a big fan of kids reading food books, but especially books with diverse peoples and foods. The Filipino men and women in Cora Cooks Pancit look like me and my family with their brown skin and dark hair. They talk like I do now with my own children. Even the representation of the whole family in the kitchen, all moving and engaging and working together, is an important aspect of many cultures. Dorina doesn’t shy away from using ethnic terms and referring to dishes in her native tongue, including lumpia, tanghon, adobo and pancit. When you read this book, you are immersed into a beautiful Filipino home with all of its values, traditions and familial dynamics, and you get a clear sense of the special role that food plays in uniting mother, father and children together.

Cultural representation like this matters. Even though my children are not Filipino, they can look at Cora and her siblings, Crispin, Sara and Prim, and see themselves. When my son first read this book, he immediately made the connections of food to our own family, even saying at one point, “That’s what you and me do, right momma?” My heart couldn’t have been prouder in that moment. He was beginning to see his personhood, his life and his values in the pages of this book. He was beginning to process his world and his family through this story, and that’s incredible. I so wish books like this had been around when I was young, so that I could have been able to verbalize more of the things I loved about my family too.

Even if you’re not a minority parent, though, this book is important. It’s not just Filipino kids or Indian kids who should read this book. Caucasian children should too. Reading about different cultures helps normalize the other. It teaches children to appreciate and value other people’s foods, instead of scrunching up their noses at “foreign” smells and aesthetics. It also helps white children see that they can make points of connection and find similarities and shared loves with kids from other cultures too. Cultural representation and cultural appreciation go hand in hand.

Dorina K. Lazo Gilmore’s book, Cora Cooks Pancit, is a book you need to read. It’s fun, heartwarming, and encouraging. Based on her own life, the book even includes her grandfather’s famous Pancit recipe at the end. This is a great book for any parent and child to read together, and I would highly recommend trying to cook the recipe together. While you do, talk about the book and the role that food plays in your family. You and your child can grow in your sensitivity, understanding and awareness of your own culture and others at the same time.