The Worst Witch to the Rescue
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
Despite having been put down as the worst witch at Miss Cackle's School for Witches since she began, Mildred Hubble arrives in an upbeat mood for the summer term of her third year. For one thing, she has come up with a really creative spell for her holiday project, which she knows will impress her often exasperated form-mistress, Miss Hardbroom. For another thing, she discovers a real aptitude for art, giving her hope of not always being the worst student in every subject. But it doesn't even take her nemesis, Ethel Hallow, until lunch on the first day of term to ruin both happy prospects for Mildred, thanks to a couple of mean-spirited tricks (one of which actually crosses the line into cheating) that will obliterate any hope you may still cherish that the two girls will ever grow into friends.
Add the fact that Ethel's sneaking friend, Drusilla, discovers that Mildred is secretly harboring an illegal pet in her dorm room, and the stage is set for a heartbreaking term for Mildred – and that's if she doesn't get expelled. Thank goodness for a temporarily talking toad, knocking on Mildred's door at just the right time. Otherwise, things might not go well for a certain tortoise up a tree, and Mildred may lose her chance to get a fair shake.
This is the sixth of eight "Worst Witch" stories written and illustrated by the late Jill Murphy. For those who are struggling to tell one book from another in the series, this is the one where Ethel starts to get a little of what she deserves, and perhaps a turning point in Mildred's progress from "worst witch" to a student even Miss Hardbroom might someday be proud of. If there's hope for her, there may be hope as well for any kid who struggles in school. And it couldn't happen to a more warm-hearted and courageous little witch.
The Worst Witch and the Wishing Star
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
During her fourth year at Miss Cackle's School for Witches, the teachers give "worst witch" Mildred some new responsibility, perhaps in the hope of maturing her a little. And they've got to admit, she takes her duties as East Wing Lantern Monitor very seriously. But one night during her rounds, she rescues a dog and begins hiding him in her room as yet another forbidden, secret pet. Star, as she names him, even proves to be a better broom balancer than Mildred's adorable but useless cat, Tabby. The pair secretly begin practicing aerial acrobatics, with an excellent effect on Mildred's slow-to-develop flying skills.
If you're wondering what could ruin it, you must be new to the series because, of course, the answer is Ethel Hallow, Mildred's nemesis – a horrible, snobby, entitled, jealous sneak of a girl who could give witches a bad name. Incapable of leaving Mildred alone to enjoy anything or do well in any subject, Ethel smokes out Mildred's doggy secret and interferes in her lantern monitoring in a way that just happens to sink the school's chances of winning a talent contest against other magic schools, for which the prize is a new swimming pool. Now half the school hates Mildred because they blame her for ruining their act, and the other half hopes she'll win the contest for them with her last-minute dog-and-broomstick show.
This is the seventh of the eight "Worst Witch" chapter books by the late Jill Murphy. So by now, it shouldn't be spoiling anything to point out that she wouldn't be Mildred if she didn't somehow turn disaster into triumph and worst-witchdom into heroism. With a gentle spirit, a streak of mischief, and a firm grasp of the difference between right and wrong, she's the kind of underdog (no pun intended) many kids will sympathize with and root for.
First Prize for the Worst Witch
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
Mildred Hubble, the worst witch at Miss Cackle's School for Witches, has somehow made it to the summer term of Year Four, the year during which first prizes are awarded and the head girl is named because Year Five is all about studying for the Witches' Higher Certificate exams. Between Mildred and her best friends, Maud and Enid, only one of them hopes to win anything at the end of the term – Maud is hoping for a first prize in Team Spirit – but everyone knows all the serious prizes will go to Mildred's nemesis, Ethel Hallow. And also, there's never been a Hallow at the school who didn't end up as head girl. Mildred's just hoping to continue flying with her acrobatic dog, Star, and work hard to prove that she isn't always the worst witch.
Hardly surprising, if you've followed the series so far, Ethel isn't content to let Mildred have even that. She and her toadie, Drusilla, arrange to have Star's previous owners – Mr. and Mrs. Brilliantine, who run a small circus – show up at the school to claim their dog. It's an entertaining scene in which you might realize that no one from the non-magical world has appeared in the series till now. Of course it wrecks Mildred, emotionally and academically, to have Star taken away from her. But slowly, she and Enid and Maud concoct a scheme to get Star back – a scheme that incidentally involves a couple other circus animals, some zany enchanted objects and a transportation spell that goes hilariously wrong. Will they succeed or will the whole caper end in disaster? Don't just guess. Grab the book, or better yet, the box set.
This book represents the end of an eight-book, 44-year project by Jill Murphy, a British children's author and illustrator who passed away in 2021. Perhaps sadly, it leaves to our imagination what Mildred Hubble would have gotten up to during her final year at Miss Cackle's School for Witches. But seeing the "worst witch" named Head Girl going into that last year also brings the series to a pretty satisfying conclusion. It's nice how things like that work out sometimes.
Sunday, July 31, 2022
Thursday, July 28, 2022
Worst Witch 4 & 5
The Worst Witch All at Sea
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
During her previous term at Miss Cackle's School for Witches, second-form mischief-maker Mildred managed to save a magician from a hopless, I mean hopeless, froggy fate. As a reward for her heroism, Mr. Rowan-Webb has invited the entire second form to a seaside vacation at his attractively named Gloom Castle on Grim Cove.
It might be more of a treat for Mildred if she didn't have a secret to keep. Her beloved, but half-baked, cat Tabby has been traded in for a more traditional black model, who is better at balancing on broomsticks, while Tabby has been demoted to a kitchen mouser despite being afraid of mice. He's such a useless cat, but Mildred loves him and it breaks her heart to be separated from him, so she sneaks him along on the seaside holiday and, naturally, hijinks ensue.
The hijinks involve class sneak Ethel, their ever disapproving form-mistress Miss Hardbroom, a boat, an island rumored to have a buried treasure on it, and the amazing sport of broomstick water skiing that'll leave you wondering why they never mentioned it at Hogwarts. And of course, despite being well known as a poor student and troublemaker, it's Mildred whose warm heart and resourcefulness save the day.
This is the fourth of eight "Worst Witch" books by the late Jill Murphy, a British children's author also known for her "Large Family" series of picture books. It is also published in the U.S. as The Worst Witch At Sea (with no "All"), apparently based on the assumption that American children won't understand the British expression "all at sea" (which means "in a state of confusion or uncertainty"). The copy that came with my box set has the "All" on it; however, that may be related to the fact that the price listed on the back cover is in pounds.
The Worst Witch Saves the Day
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
Of course Mildred, the worst witch at Miss Cackle's School for Witches, saves the day. Doesn't she always? But first, and just as naturally, she messes up. Her botched attempt to repair a "bad hair day" results in disaster, and sends her beloved but mental cat Tabby into a nervous breakdown. At least this term, the girls in Form Three will have a break from always having super-strict Miss Hardbroom as their form-mistress. The trouble is, their mysterious new teacher doesn't seem interested in actually teaching.
It doesn't take long for the girls in Form Three to miss a bit of structure and discipline. But that thought has scarcely formed in their minds when Miss Granite suddenly turns mean and threatening, and poor Tabby gets caught in the middle. Luckily, Mildred isn't the kind of girl to take catnapping lying down. (That sentence somehow doesn't sound right.) Unluckily, that's exactly what Miss Granite is counting on, forcing Mildred to stretch her spellcasting skills in order to avert yet another attempted hag takeover of the school.
Mildred and her friends, frenemies and enemies are fun company as always, full of warmth and mischief and magic. Their adventure is typically weird, hilarious and just a bit spooky, including (in this case) a transformation spell that leaves Mildred in a tiny form. Her struggle to communicate her plight with her friends, Enid and Maud, and to stay on task despite the allure of cake crumbs all over the floor, is the type of verbal and visual fun that makes this book, and this whole series, priceless.
This is the fifth of eight "Worst Witch" books by the late Jill Murphy. Next after it is The Worst Witch to the Rescue. After a slow start, I'm zipping through the series thanks to a box set that was apparently printed for sale in the U.K. Since the books are so brief and quick to read – and there are (sadly) no worries that more installments will be added to the series – I'd say the box set is the way to go.
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
During her previous term at Miss Cackle's School for Witches, second-form mischief-maker Mildred managed to save a magician from a hopless, I mean hopeless, froggy fate. As a reward for her heroism, Mr. Rowan-Webb has invited the entire second form to a seaside vacation at his attractively named Gloom Castle on Grim Cove.
It might be more of a treat for Mildred if she didn't have a secret to keep. Her beloved, but half-baked, cat Tabby has been traded in for a more traditional black model, who is better at balancing on broomsticks, while Tabby has been demoted to a kitchen mouser despite being afraid of mice. He's such a useless cat, but Mildred loves him and it breaks her heart to be separated from him, so she sneaks him along on the seaside holiday and, naturally, hijinks ensue.
The hijinks involve class sneak Ethel, their ever disapproving form-mistress Miss Hardbroom, a boat, an island rumored to have a buried treasure on it, and the amazing sport of broomstick water skiing that'll leave you wondering why they never mentioned it at Hogwarts. And of course, despite being well known as a poor student and troublemaker, it's Mildred whose warm heart and resourcefulness save the day.
This is the fourth of eight "Worst Witch" books by the late Jill Murphy, a British children's author also known for her "Large Family" series of picture books. It is also published in the U.S. as The Worst Witch At Sea (with no "All"), apparently based on the assumption that American children won't understand the British expression "all at sea" (which means "in a state of confusion or uncertainty"). The copy that came with my box set has the "All" on it; however, that may be related to the fact that the price listed on the back cover is in pounds.
The Worst Witch Saves the Day
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
Of course Mildred, the worst witch at Miss Cackle's School for Witches, saves the day. Doesn't she always? But first, and just as naturally, she messes up. Her botched attempt to repair a "bad hair day" results in disaster, and sends her beloved but mental cat Tabby into a nervous breakdown. At least this term, the girls in Form Three will have a break from always having super-strict Miss Hardbroom as their form-mistress. The trouble is, their mysterious new teacher doesn't seem interested in actually teaching.
It doesn't take long for the girls in Form Three to miss a bit of structure and discipline. But that thought has scarcely formed in their minds when Miss Granite suddenly turns mean and threatening, and poor Tabby gets caught in the middle. Luckily, Mildred isn't the kind of girl to take catnapping lying down. (That sentence somehow doesn't sound right.) Unluckily, that's exactly what Miss Granite is counting on, forcing Mildred to stretch her spellcasting skills in order to avert yet another attempted hag takeover of the school.
Mildred and her friends, frenemies and enemies are fun company as always, full of warmth and mischief and magic. Their adventure is typically weird, hilarious and just a bit spooky, including (in this case) a transformation spell that leaves Mildred in a tiny form. Her struggle to communicate her plight with her friends, Enid and Maud, and to stay on task despite the allure of cake crumbs all over the floor, is the type of verbal and visual fun that makes this book, and this whole series, priceless.
This is the fifth of eight "Worst Witch" books by the late Jill Murphy. Next after it is The Worst Witch to the Rescue. After a slow start, I'm zipping through the series thanks to a box set that was apparently printed for sale in the U.K. Since the books are so brief and quick to read – and there are (sadly) no worries that more installments will be added to the series – I'd say the box set is the way to go.
Wednesday, July 27, 2022
Worst Witch 2 & 3
The Worst Witch Strikes Again
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
In her second term at Miss Cackle's Academy for Witches, Mildred continues to lag behind her classmates – especially under the withering eye of their form mistress, Miss Hardbroom. Partly this is due to bad luck; partly, Mildred's irrepressible high spirits; and partly because she somehow manages to catch the blame whenever another student causes a bit of mischief. With a new student named Enid making enough trouble for two, Mildred is soon on the verge of being expelled.
In the light strokes of a short, quick-to-read novella and the strangely attractive imagery of a school of magic being held in a castle (an idea somebody should really do something with one of these days), Mildred's adventure shines a sympathetic light on the plight of every student who has ever had trouble concentrating in class, or who couldn't help getting into trouble despite good intentions, or who had a warm heart toward the down-and-out (including awkward new classmates and dimwitted kittens), and yet who also wanted to smack the tale-bearing teacher's pet. If you resemble that remark, this one's for you.
This is the second of eight "Worst Witch" books written from 1974 to 2018. British children's author Jill Murphy passed away in August 2021, about a year after I read the first installment in this series, The Worst Witch. I've taken my time getting around to reading this series, which has been going nearly as long as I have and has already spawned a TV movie and several TV series. Anyway, the other slim, adorably illustrated books in this series – of which I now own a boxed set – include A Bad Spell for the Worst Witch, The Worst Witch All at Sea, The Worst Witch Saves the Day, The Worst Witch to the Rescue, The Worst Witch and the Wishing Star and First Prize for the Worst Witch. Murphy also left behind 11 "Large Family" books, the novels Geoffrey Strangeways, Worlds Apart and Dear Hound, and multiple picture books for children.
A Bad Spell for the Worst Witch
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
Despite being the worst witch at Miss Cackle's Academy for Witches, Mildred has made it to the second form. Unfortunately, so has her former first-form mistress, the repressive Miss Hardbroom. This year, a feud with her snooty nemesis, Ethel, results (much later) in Mildred being able to say the priceless words, "We were frogs together." In the meantime, she has a hard time communicating her plight to her friends Enid and Maud, so that she can get switched back. And then she has a bigger problem: how to keep a promise to a wizard who has been trapped in froggy form for decades.
It's another slim, charmingly illustrated breeze to read that should please even – or maybe especially – kids who sometimes have trouble keeping up in class, or staying out of trouble, or getting along with their classmates. Mildred has a streak of mischief in her, which she sometimes can't control. You may likewise have trouble controlling an urge to giggle as she makes up a scary story instead of comforting a first-year student as she intended. But there's also much to admire in her, such as her tenderness toward the powerless and vulnerable, her sincere effort to show good manners (like when she politely declines an offer of a fly), and the lengths she'll go to in keeping a promise. (However, kidnapping is bad, children. It should go without saying.)
This is the third book of eight in the "Worst Witch" series, between The Worst Witch Strikes Again and The Worst Witch All at Sea. A prolific, British children's author whose works have often been adapted for television, Jill Murphy passed away in 2021.
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
In her second term at Miss Cackle's Academy for Witches, Mildred continues to lag behind her classmates – especially under the withering eye of their form mistress, Miss Hardbroom. Partly this is due to bad luck; partly, Mildred's irrepressible high spirits; and partly because she somehow manages to catch the blame whenever another student causes a bit of mischief. With a new student named Enid making enough trouble for two, Mildred is soon on the verge of being expelled.
In the light strokes of a short, quick-to-read novella and the strangely attractive imagery of a school of magic being held in a castle (an idea somebody should really do something with one of these days), Mildred's adventure shines a sympathetic light on the plight of every student who has ever had trouble concentrating in class, or who couldn't help getting into trouble despite good intentions, or who had a warm heart toward the down-and-out (including awkward new classmates and dimwitted kittens), and yet who also wanted to smack the tale-bearing teacher's pet. If you resemble that remark, this one's for you.
This is the second of eight "Worst Witch" books written from 1974 to 2018. British children's author Jill Murphy passed away in August 2021, about a year after I read the first installment in this series, The Worst Witch. I've taken my time getting around to reading this series, which has been going nearly as long as I have and has already spawned a TV movie and several TV series. Anyway, the other slim, adorably illustrated books in this series – of which I now own a boxed set – include A Bad Spell for the Worst Witch, The Worst Witch All at Sea, The Worst Witch Saves the Day, The Worst Witch to the Rescue, The Worst Witch and the Wishing Star and First Prize for the Worst Witch. Murphy also left behind 11 "Large Family" books, the novels Geoffrey Strangeways, Worlds Apart and Dear Hound, and multiple picture books for children.
A Bad Spell for the Worst Witch
by Jill Murphy
Recommended Ages: 10+
Despite being the worst witch at Miss Cackle's Academy for Witches, Mildred has made it to the second form. Unfortunately, so has her former first-form mistress, the repressive Miss Hardbroom. This year, a feud with her snooty nemesis, Ethel, results (much later) in Mildred being able to say the priceless words, "We were frogs together." In the meantime, she has a hard time communicating her plight to her friends Enid and Maud, so that she can get switched back. And then she has a bigger problem: how to keep a promise to a wizard who has been trapped in froggy form for decades.
It's another slim, charmingly illustrated breeze to read that should please even – or maybe especially – kids who sometimes have trouble keeping up in class, or staying out of trouble, or getting along with their classmates. Mildred has a streak of mischief in her, which she sometimes can't control. You may likewise have trouble controlling an urge to giggle as she makes up a scary story instead of comforting a first-year student as she intended. But there's also much to admire in her, such as her tenderness toward the powerless and vulnerable, her sincere effort to show good manners (like when she politely declines an offer of a fly), and the lengths she'll go to in keeping a promise. (However, kidnapping is bad, children. It should go without saying.)
This is the third book of eight in the "Worst Witch" series, between The Worst Witch Strikes Again and The Worst Witch All at Sea. A prolific, British children's author whose works have often been adapted for television, Jill Murphy passed away in 2021.
Sunday, July 24, 2022
Spy School Revolution
Spy School Revolution
by Stuart Gibbs
Recommended Ages: 11+
Ben Ripley, a second-year student at the CIA's Academy of Espionage, has gone on rogue missions before. But they've never been as rogue as this. Not only is the CIA after him, but even his most trusted friends don't believe him. It starts when Erica Hale, a slightly older student and his almost (but not quite) hopeless crush since Day 1 at spy school, makes an attempt on his life. With a rocket-propelled grenade. At CIA headquarters. The explosion destroys the room next door to where a couple of CIA agents are breaking the secret to Ben's parents that he hasn't, after all, been attending St. Smithen's Science Academy for the past year and a half, and now that his cover has been blown, they are no longer safe in their home.
The Ripleys' reaction to the news that they have to go into federal witness protection is the first instance in this book where I had to set it down for a bit, while I got my laughter under control. There were other instances, including passages that caused me to make a fool of myself in public when I had taken the book along on an all-day newspaper assignment, to pass the time between separate but connected events that I needed to photograph. (It was that or make two 26-mile round trips in one day to cover them.) I'm a bit worried that other people in the picnic shelter around me thought I was sobbing and wondered what had made me so upset; I was laughing that hard. But enough about me. There's a book to talk about.
So, Ben refuses to believe that Erica has really turned evil, despite the fact that she was obviously targeting him for death. Most of his friends don't have that kind of faith in the girl popularly known, around campus, as the Ice Queen. And it doesn't help that the closer he gets to a working theory of what's going on, the more it sounds like a cracked conspiracy theory. Almost no one else is ready to buy into Erica's claim that a secret, anti-American organization called the Croatoan, which has existed since the disappearance of the Roanoke colony in 1590, is really behind all the really bad things that have happened during U.S. history because – get this – they believe the continent rightfully belongs to Spain. The only evidence of it seems to be hidden somewhere among the effects of the nation's first president, and first spy master, George Washington.
Breaking into Washington's historic mansion, Mount Vernon, proves to be only one of many crazy things Ben finds himself doing among the landmarks of the Washington, D.C. area. There's a wild ride on a decrepit conveyor belt under the National Mall. There's a parachute drop out of a helicopter (ugh, again) onto a heavily secured rooftop. There's a leap over a cliff, followed by a boat-free trip down whitewater rapids. An explosion at a bowling alley. A fire at a middle school. More chases than you can shake the reins of George Washington's personal team of horses at. There are double-crosses by people Ben trusts, as well as (oops) an embarrassing moment when he falsely accuses the wrong CIA agent of being crooked. And there are moments that force Ben to reconsider who his real best friends are. Also, there's this quote, which was hard to choose out of several candidates:
by Stuart Gibbs
Recommended Ages: 11+
Ben Ripley, a second-year student at the CIA's Academy of Espionage, has gone on rogue missions before. But they've never been as rogue as this. Not only is the CIA after him, but even his most trusted friends don't believe him. It starts when Erica Hale, a slightly older student and his almost (but not quite) hopeless crush since Day 1 at spy school, makes an attempt on his life. With a rocket-propelled grenade. At CIA headquarters. The explosion destroys the room next door to where a couple of CIA agents are breaking the secret to Ben's parents that he hasn't, after all, been attending St. Smithen's Science Academy for the past year and a half, and now that his cover has been blown, they are no longer safe in their home.
The Ripleys' reaction to the news that they have to go into federal witness protection is the first instance in this book where I had to set it down for a bit, while I got my laughter under control. There were other instances, including passages that caused me to make a fool of myself in public when I had taken the book along on an all-day newspaper assignment, to pass the time between separate but connected events that I needed to photograph. (It was that or make two 26-mile round trips in one day to cover them.) I'm a bit worried that other people in the picnic shelter around me thought I was sobbing and wondered what had made me so upset; I was laughing that hard. But enough about me. There's a book to talk about.
So, Ben refuses to believe that Erica has really turned evil, despite the fact that she was obviously targeting him for death. Most of his friends don't have that kind of faith in the girl popularly known, around campus, as the Ice Queen. And it doesn't help that the closer he gets to a working theory of what's going on, the more it sounds like a cracked conspiracy theory. Almost no one else is ready to buy into Erica's claim that a secret, anti-American organization called the Croatoan, which has existed since the disappearance of the Roanoke colony in 1590, is really behind all the really bad things that have happened during U.S. history because – get this – they believe the continent rightfully belongs to Spain. The only evidence of it seems to be hidden somewhere among the effects of the nation's first president, and first spy master, George Washington.
Breaking into Washington's historic mansion, Mount Vernon, proves to be only one of many crazy things Ben finds himself doing among the landmarks of the Washington, D.C. area. There's a wild ride on a decrepit conveyor belt under the National Mall. There's a parachute drop out of a helicopter (ugh, again) onto a heavily secured rooftop. There's a leap over a cliff, followed by a boat-free trip down whitewater rapids. An explosion at a bowling alley. A fire at a middle school. More chases than you can shake the reins of George Washington's personal team of horses at. There are double-crosses by people Ben trusts, as well as (oops) an embarrassing moment when he falsely accuses the wrong CIA agent of being crooked. And there are moments that force Ben to reconsider who his real best friends are. Also, there's this quote, which was hard to choose out of several candidates:
Mike said, "Have you ever noticed that, wherever we go, we leave a trail of chaos and destruction?"This is Book 8 in the "Spy School" series, smack between Spy School British Invasion and Spy School At Sea. A 10th book, Spy School Project X, is scheduled for release in September 2022. Besides this series tickling millions of youngsters' fancy of becoming a secret agent, Stuart Gibbs's other novels for middle school-aged kids include a series of mysteries set in a zoo/theme park, a trilogy about a present-day kid who time-travels to become one of the Three (or four) Musketeers, a mystery trilogy set on the moon, and a developing series about a medieval kid who wants to be a knight. Among the fellow writers mentioned in this book's acknowledgments are a few who you may also like if you enjoy this series, such as James Ponti, Michael Buckley, Chris Grabenstein and Sarah Mlynowski.
"Yes," I said. "That had occurred to me, too."
"It's awesome, isn't it?" Mike asked, grinning from ear to ear.
Spy School British Invasion
Spy School British Invasion
by Stuart Gibbs
Recommended Ages: 11+
As Ben Ripley's remarkable adventures as a CIA spook-in-training continues, he and his friends find themselves once again on a totally unsanctioned mission to save the world and bring down a secret, evil organization named SPYDER, that has turned a lot of their fellow agents to the dark side. Trusting nobody but themselves, and on the run from practically every law enforcement and intelligence agency in the West, they chase and are chased through a tourist's dream (and nightmare) of places to see in London and Paris – including the British Museum, the Tower Bridge and the Eiffel Tower on the one hand, and a subterranean sewer and a tunnel lined with skulls on the other.
Along the way, Ben walks a perilous tight rope (as it were) between two girls he's attracted to, both of whom are dangerous to cross. He saves his bestie, Mike, from a potty emergency by staging a breakout, under enemy fire, involving a laser pointer, a bra and a priceless Egyptian artifact. He breaks into the palatial home of one of the world's most reclusive hackers, only to find the guy lonely and desperate for company. They crash a double-decker bus, jump out of a Russian helicopter, race against time to stop a doomsday device, duke it out with bad guys, squirm as Erica Hale's parents bicker about the fact that her father (a very bad spy) hadn't known her mother was a very good spy the whole time they were married, and experience the truth of such Spy School precepts as Hogarth's Theory of Fear-Based Urination.
In short, it's action packed, hilarious fun with a bit of junior high romance woven in. It mines all the comedic possibilities out of spy caper stereotypes, including the kid-pleasing idea that the adults are cracked and only the kids know what's really going on. For all its silliness, there's an honesty about Ben's narration, a wholesomeness about his character, that makes him easy to root for – and meanwhile, Mike's point of view occasionally knocks us sidewise with his goofy observations, like how cool it is (for Ben) to be the face on the dartboard in a master villain's lair. The characters are quirky – in some cases, downright daffy – but with a dangerous edge that ensures, for example, you won't snicker when you find out about Erica's childhood game of pretending to be a princess (or rather, pretending to be a spy pretending to be a princess). And although SPYDER may be down to its last nefarious scheme in this installment, you can be sure some other evil orgnization will rush in to fill the void.
This is the seventh book in the "Spy School" series, following Spy School, Spy Camp, Evil Spy School, Spy Ski School, etc., and continuing (so far) with Spy School Revolution, Spy School at Sea and, scheduled for release in September 2022, Spy School Project X. Stuart Gibbs is also the author of the "Last Musketeer" and "Moon Base Alpha" trilogies, going on eight "FunJungle" books, the "Charlie Thorne" series (whose third book, Charlie Thorne and the Curse of Cleopatra, just came out in June 2022) and Once Upon a Tim (which just came out in March and whose sequel, The Labyrinth of Doom, comes out in November 2022). Unlike some writers (eyebrow lifted), this guy doesn't seem to be running out of ideas.
by Stuart Gibbs
Recommended Ages: 11+
As Ben Ripley's remarkable adventures as a CIA spook-in-training continues, he and his friends find themselves once again on a totally unsanctioned mission to save the world and bring down a secret, evil organization named SPYDER, that has turned a lot of their fellow agents to the dark side. Trusting nobody but themselves, and on the run from practically every law enforcement and intelligence agency in the West, they chase and are chased through a tourist's dream (and nightmare) of places to see in London and Paris – including the British Museum, the Tower Bridge and the Eiffel Tower on the one hand, and a subterranean sewer and a tunnel lined with skulls on the other.
Along the way, Ben walks a perilous tight rope (as it were) between two girls he's attracted to, both of whom are dangerous to cross. He saves his bestie, Mike, from a potty emergency by staging a breakout, under enemy fire, involving a laser pointer, a bra and a priceless Egyptian artifact. He breaks into the palatial home of one of the world's most reclusive hackers, only to find the guy lonely and desperate for company. They crash a double-decker bus, jump out of a Russian helicopter, race against time to stop a doomsday device, duke it out with bad guys, squirm as Erica Hale's parents bicker about the fact that her father (a very bad spy) hadn't known her mother was a very good spy the whole time they were married, and experience the truth of such Spy School precepts as Hogarth's Theory of Fear-Based Urination.
In short, it's action packed, hilarious fun with a bit of junior high romance woven in. It mines all the comedic possibilities out of spy caper stereotypes, including the kid-pleasing idea that the adults are cracked and only the kids know what's really going on. For all its silliness, there's an honesty about Ben's narration, a wholesomeness about his character, that makes him easy to root for – and meanwhile, Mike's point of view occasionally knocks us sidewise with his goofy observations, like how cool it is (for Ben) to be the face on the dartboard in a master villain's lair. The characters are quirky – in some cases, downright daffy – but with a dangerous edge that ensures, for example, you won't snicker when you find out about Erica's childhood game of pretending to be a princess (or rather, pretending to be a spy pretending to be a princess). And although SPYDER may be down to its last nefarious scheme in this installment, you can be sure some other evil orgnization will rush in to fill the void.
This is the seventh book in the "Spy School" series, following Spy School, Spy Camp, Evil Spy School, Spy Ski School, etc., and continuing (so far) with Spy School Revolution, Spy School at Sea and, scheduled for release in September 2022, Spy School Project X. Stuart Gibbs is also the author of the "Last Musketeer" and "Moon Base Alpha" trilogies, going on eight "FunJungle" books, the "Charlie Thorne" series (whose third book, Charlie Thorne and the Curse of Cleopatra, just came out in June 2022) and Once Upon a Tim (which just came out in March and whose sequel, The Labyrinth of Doom, comes out in November 2022). Unlike some writers (eyebrow lifted), this guy doesn't seem to be running out of ideas.
Friday, July 22, 2022
Ratatouille Revisited
About nine years ago, I posted about my first time making ratatouille, based Emeril's recipe. I've more or less winged it since then, after quickly checking that initial recipe for reference, achieving decent results several times and screwing up once or twice. (I remember one version being "death by thyme." But I was getting ready to move and I didn't want to have to pack fresh thyme, so ... anyway.)
Yesterday, I made a yummy version of ratatouille that was loaded with ingredients that aren't listed in the recipe. So, maybe it's not really ratatouille. Since it was just for me, I figured no one would judge me if I just put in what I wanted, and that was a lot of stuff. But now I'm telling the internet about it, so I guess I'll be judged after all. Whatever.
I went shopping for the ingredients on Wednesday and started prepping when I got home from work on Thursday. I was unsurprised (having done this before) that the prep took about an hour. I snacked a bit between tasks and while the dish was cooking, since dinner was coming up later than usual for me. And of course, I knew that I'd end up with enough food to feed six, or myself from Thursday through Tuesday, so it wasn't as if saving my appetite was crucial. Nevertheless, when I dug in, I found it pretty darn good.
Of course I got all (well, most) of the orthodox ingredients: a small eggplant, a yellow squash, a zucchini, four Roma tomatoes, a medium yellow onion, bell peppers (one each red, yellow and orange), a couple bulbs of garlic, and a bunch of ... oops. Here's where my brain farted, and I brought home a bunch of fresh rosemary instead of thyme. It's hard to reckon how I made that mistake. But I intentionally omitted the parsley and basil because I felt that the one herb would be plenty.
And then, I went a little mad and bought several things that aren't in ratatouille as it has been transmitted down to me. I figured where you have onions in French cookery, you may as well also have carrots and celery. And on a lark, I also bought some mushrooms that I imagined would be close to eggplant in consistency. That made for a good deal more prep work, though, and by the time I got around to them, I was too sick of chopping to give them due care and ended up cutting them up into bigger chunks than I really should have. And of course, I seasoned everything with salt.
While I'm dwelling on should-have beens, I also wish I had redesigned my mise en place. Going by memory of the Emeril recipe, I divided the chopped ingredients into four bowls, based on what stage of cooking I meant to throw them into the pan. If I recall correctly, Bowl 1 was the eggplant (peeled and chopped into roughly 2/3-inch cubes) and a couple of carrots (not peeled but cut in half lengthwise and then chopped into pieces of similar size). I now think I should have either julienned and more finely chopped the carrots or started them first, by themselves in a pan drizzled with hot olive oil. As it was, I couldn't give them the time they needed to soften without risking the eggplant dissolving into nothing.
Bowl 2, going in a few minutes later, was the onion and garlic. After the onion started to soften and the garlic released its aroma, I threw in Bowl 3, containing the pepper (I ended up chopping only the orange bell, pith and seeds removed), celery (three stalks, sliced in half lengthwise and then chopped to a similar size as the carrots), both kinds of squash (peel on, quartered lengthwise and cut into roughly similar cuboids), and the shrooms (sliced but not too thin). The lid went on the pan, except for the occasional stir.
When I started to worry about it being done before I had added Bowl 4, in went the tomatoes and the rosemary. I'd actually tried, for the first time, the "dip in boiling water for 10 seconds, then de-stem and peel" method before quartering the tomatoes and chopping them into about 1/3-inch dices. Of course, I de-stemmed the rosemary, about 3 branches worth, which I'm sure is quite conservative considering how much food I was adding it to, but I was mindful of "death by thyme" and chose the long way around to avoid repeating that type of mistake. In a more perfect univserse, I would have given more effort to the rosemary, but I was at the end of my resources by that time so I gave up after just a few feeble chops; I would only regret that a litte, later.
Stir. Lid on. A couple more stirs. At the last moment I remembered to grind some black pepper over the pan and to cut off a quarter of a large lemon and squeeze its juice in there. (I actually plated a serving of it before I remembered the lemon, so I had to shake a few drops of the juice onto that, too. I can scientifically say that a little lemon juice really is essential.)
And then I ate. Despite being meatless and untouched by such animal products as butter, cream, cheese, broth or stock, it turned out to be a thick, chunky, savory stew with just the right amount of herb flavor (not death, but life by rosemary); exactly enough salt (if not, in a few bites, just a shade too much – and all that was from the prep stage); a good chew on the mushrooms, yellow squash and zucchini; and some tender, bursting-with-flavor morsels of orange bell pepper and celery. Also, the dish was a feast for the eyes, full of bright colors; and speaking of brightness, that squeeze of lemon brought a welcome shine to the top end of the dish, like a soprano note that lightens an otherwise muddy chord.
Regrets, I had a few – but they weren't big ones. The eggplant pieces were softer than I wished, but they hadn't completely mushed out, so I guess that was half a win. Like I said, next time they'll go into the bowl with the squash, and let the carrots hang out by themselves in Bowl 1. The onions and garlic lent flavor, but they pretty much disappeared in the texture – which I guess is fine where garlic is concerned (and may I also mention, I have yet to perfect my garlic peeling technique; that leg of my prep marathon was the slowest and most miserable). But I kind of missed sinking my teeth into the onion pieces; so, maybe Bowl 2 and Bowl 3 should go in at the same time, another day. I definitely need a separate bowl, however, since most of my mise en place bowls are plastic and I didn't fancy washing garlic and onion funk out of a plastic bowl; ceramic for that one.
My final quibble: as I mentioned before, I should have remembered thyme, rather than rosemary; perhaps that would have lent more success to my herb-chopping efforts, such as they were. As it is, the last few bites of my dinner came with big chunks of rosemary that stayed in my mouth no matter how much I chewed, and I had to spit into the kitchen trash multiple times to get them out. Another alternative might be just to throw whole branches of the herb (or herbs) into the stew and fish them out when cooking was over and their purpose was served. A next time there will be, however; just not very soon, because I still have two multi-serving containers of leftovers from this batch cooling in the fridge.
Last word: Prep may have been a pain, but cleanup really wasn't that bad. I used three nesting bowls for the mise en place, plus a ceramic soup mug for the onions and garlic; one wooden cutting board for everything, which fit nicely over one side of the sink so I didn't have to clear counter space for it; a big, heavy, hardened-nonstick pan and its lid for the stewing; a medium-small saucepan for the 10-second boil on those tomatoes, along with a wire scoop to fish them out of the water; one big chopping knife for almost everything; and a paring knife for just a couple things (like de-stemming the tomatoes and peeling the eggplant). Somehow, a wire-mesh strainer got dirtied, though I can't now remember what I needed it for. And a dinner plate.
The star of my armaments was an old, hard-plastic spoon with a metal handle and a hard-plastic grip, which I rescued from my old office when it was being packed up and moved to a new location that doesn't have a kitchen; the kind of thing you can't seem to get anymore, but that ran circles around the bendy plastic stirring spoons, spatulas, etc. that fill most of my kitchen counter tool jug. I used it throughout the preparation of this dish, from stirring the stew to plating to scooping the leftovers into to-go (into the fridge) containers. This is the kitchen tool I've wanted for years and it finally takes a rushed, office-moving, disposing-of-used-kitchen-junk party to bring it to hand. It's an ill wind that blows no good.
Yesterday, I made a yummy version of ratatouille that was loaded with ingredients that aren't listed in the recipe. So, maybe it's not really ratatouille. Since it was just for me, I figured no one would judge me if I just put in what I wanted, and that was a lot of stuff. But now I'm telling the internet about it, so I guess I'll be judged after all. Whatever.
I went shopping for the ingredients on Wednesday and started prepping when I got home from work on Thursday. I was unsurprised (having done this before) that the prep took about an hour. I snacked a bit between tasks and while the dish was cooking, since dinner was coming up later than usual for me. And of course, I knew that I'd end up with enough food to feed six, or myself from Thursday through Tuesday, so it wasn't as if saving my appetite was crucial. Nevertheless, when I dug in, I found it pretty darn good.
Of course I got all (well, most) of the orthodox ingredients: a small eggplant, a yellow squash, a zucchini, four Roma tomatoes, a medium yellow onion, bell peppers (one each red, yellow and orange), a couple bulbs of garlic, and a bunch of ... oops. Here's where my brain farted, and I brought home a bunch of fresh rosemary instead of thyme. It's hard to reckon how I made that mistake. But I intentionally omitted the parsley and basil because I felt that the one herb would be plenty.
And then, I went a little mad and bought several things that aren't in ratatouille as it has been transmitted down to me. I figured where you have onions in French cookery, you may as well also have carrots and celery. And on a lark, I also bought some mushrooms that I imagined would be close to eggplant in consistency. That made for a good deal more prep work, though, and by the time I got around to them, I was too sick of chopping to give them due care and ended up cutting them up into bigger chunks than I really should have. And of course, I seasoned everything with salt.
While I'm dwelling on should-have beens, I also wish I had redesigned my mise en place. Going by memory of the Emeril recipe, I divided the chopped ingredients into four bowls, based on what stage of cooking I meant to throw them into the pan. If I recall correctly, Bowl 1 was the eggplant (peeled and chopped into roughly 2/3-inch cubes) and a couple of carrots (not peeled but cut in half lengthwise and then chopped into pieces of similar size). I now think I should have either julienned and more finely chopped the carrots or started them first, by themselves in a pan drizzled with hot olive oil. As it was, I couldn't give them the time they needed to soften without risking the eggplant dissolving into nothing.
Bowl 2, going in a few minutes later, was the onion and garlic. After the onion started to soften and the garlic released its aroma, I threw in Bowl 3, containing the pepper (I ended up chopping only the orange bell, pith and seeds removed), celery (three stalks, sliced in half lengthwise and then chopped to a similar size as the carrots), both kinds of squash (peel on, quartered lengthwise and cut into roughly similar cuboids), and the shrooms (sliced but not too thin). The lid went on the pan, except for the occasional stir.
When I started to worry about it being done before I had added Bowl 4, in went the tomatoes and the rosemary. I'd actually tried, for the first time, the "dip in boiling water for 10 seconds, then de-stem and peel" method before quartering the tomatoes and chopping them into about 1/3-inch dices. Of course, I de-stemmed the rosemary, about 3 branches worth, which I'm sure is quite conservative considering how much food I was adding it to, but I was mindful of "death by thyme" and chose the long way around to avoid repeating that type of mistake. In a more perfect univserse, I would have given more effort to the rosemary, but I was at the end of my resources by that time so I gave up after just a few feeble chops; I would only regret that a litte, later.
Stir. Lid on. A couple more stirs. At the last moment I remembered to grind some black pepper over the pan and to cut off a quarter of a large lemon and squeeze its juice in there. (I actually plated a serving of it before I remembered the lemon, so I had to shake a few drops of the juice onto that, too. I can scientifically say that a little lemon juice really is essential.)
And then I ate. Despite being meatless and untouched by such animal products as butter, cream, cheese, broth or stock, it turned out to be a thick, chunky, savory stew with just the right amount of herb flavor (not death, but life by rosemary); exactly enough salt (if not, in a few bites, just a shade too much – and all that was from the prep stage); a good chew on the mushrooms, yellow squash and zucchini; and some tender, bursting-with-flavor morsels of orange bell pepper and celery. Also, the dish was a feast for the eyes, full of bright colors; and speaking of brightness, that squeeze of lemon brought a welcome shine to the top end of the dish, like a soprano note that lightens an otherwise muddy chord.
Regrets, I had a few – but they weren't big ones. The eggplant pieces were softer than I wished, but they hadn't completely mushed out, so I guess that was half a win. Like I said, next time they'll go into the bowl with the squash, and let the carrots hang out by themselves in Bowl 1. The onions and garlic lent flavor, but they pretty much disappeared in the texture – which I guess is fine where garlic is concerned (and may I also mention, I have yet to perfect my garlic peeling technique; that leg of my prep marathon was the slowest and most miserable). But I kind of missed sinking my teeth into the onion pieces; so, maybe Bowl 2 and Bowl 3 should go in at the same time, another day. I definitely need a separate bowl, however, since most of my mise en place bowls are plastic and I didn't fancy washing garlic and onion funk out of a plastic bowl; ceramic for that one.
My final quibble: as I mentioned before, I should have remembered thyme, rather than rosemary; perhaps that would have lent more success to my herb-chopping efforts, such as they were. As it is, the last few bites of my dinner came with big chunks of rosemary that stayed in my mouth no matter how much I chewed, and I had to spit into the kitchen trash multiple times to get them out. Another alternative might be just to throw whole branches of the herb (or herbs) into the stew and fish them out when cooking was over and their purpose was served. A next time there will be, however; just not very soon, because I still have two multi-serving containers of leftovers from this batch cooling in the fridge.
Last word: Prep may have been a pain, but cleanup really wasn't that bad. I used three nesting bowls for the mise en place, plus a ceramic soup mug for the onions and garlic; one wooden cutting board for everything, which fit nicely over one side of the sink so I didn't have to clear counter space for it; a big, heavy, hardened-nonstick pan and its lid for the stewing; a medium-small saucepan for the 10-second boil on those tomatoes, along with a wire scoop to fish them out of the water; one big chopping knife for almost everything; and a paring knife for just a couple things (like de-stemming the tomatoes and peeling the eggplant). Somehow, a wire-mesh strainer got dirtied, though I can't now remember what I needed it for. And a dinner plate.
The star of my armaments was an old, hard-plastic spoon with a metal handle and a hard-plastic grip, which I rescued from my old office when it was being packed up and moved to a new location that doesn't have a kitchen; the kind of thing you can't seem to get anymore, but that ran circles around the bendy plastic stirring spoons, spatulas, etc. that fill most of my kitchen counter tool jug. I used it throughout the preparation of this dish, from stirring the stew to plating to scooping the leftovers into to-go (into the fridge) containers. This is the kitchen tool I've wanted for years and it finally takes a rushed, office-moving, disposing-of-used-kitchen-junk party to bring it to hand. It's an ill wind that blows no good.
Monday, July 18, 2022
The Inevitable Country-Western Song
My pickup was self-drivin',
The latest in A.I.
It hit the road without me,
And never said goodbye.
I'm an old fashioned man
With the new-fangled blues.
My smart home's vital systems
Connected to my phone.
It locked me out one morning
And left me all alone.
I'm an old fashioned man
With the new-fangled blues.
The world keeps getting faster,
And everything is wired.
I'd be a lonesome cowboy,
But robots got me fired.
I've got tech-challenged heartache,
Baby I sure am tired.
My Facebook's all atwitter
With the latest news,
But I'm an old fashioned man
With the new-fangled blues.
The latest in A.I.
It hit the road without me,
And never said goodbye.
I'm an old fashioned man
With the new-fangled blues.
My smart home's vital systems
Connected to my phone.
It locked me out one morning
And left me all alone.
I'm an old fashioned man
With the new-fangled blues.
The world keeps getting faster,
And everything is wired.
I'd be a lonesome cowboy,
But robots got me fired.
I've got tech-challenged heartache,
Baby I sure am tired.
My Facebook's all atwitter
With the latest news,
But I'm an old fashioned man
With the new-fangled blues.
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