What's in Alanna's Secret Sauce?

Written by Sarah Jane Conklin

Illustrated by Venus Angelica

Monster House Publishing

978-1-99822-308-4

38 pp.

Ages 6-9

September 2024 

 

I can't think of a better picture book to share for Thanksgiving than What's in Alanna's Secret Sauce?, which will the first book I will have reviewed from New Brunswick's Monster House Publishing. I'm just thankful that I read it this week and was able to get a review out in a timely manner.

From What's in Alanna's Secret Sauce? written by Sarah Jane Conklin, illustrated by Venus Angelica

As a child, Alanna helped her Nan in her garden, sowing seeds and bulbs for tomatoes and onions, garlic and herbs, and more. When they harvested, it was time to bring out the great big pot and start cooking. As their sauce cooks, Alanna is amazed by the aromas, both proud and intoxicated. But the smells that waft from their kitchen drift onto the street and draw neighbours and even strangers to the house. Even before the sauce is done, Nan tells visitors to come back for supper.

More people came to taste the sauce,

Its scent spilled through the town.

Her Nan invited all to dine,

Despite Alanna's frown.

From What's in Alanna's Secret Sauce? written by Sarah Jane Conklin, illustrated by Venus Angelica

They all return, everyone bringing what they are able, whether it be drinks or spaghetti, bread or prayers of thanks. And, miraculously, there is enough for all. 

Later Alanna grows into a chef and holds dear that recipe, but she carries on the traditions of generosity and sharing, having learned that the secret ingredient was not something that had to be picked and chopped or squirrelled away in the pantry.

At 9 years of age, it was all about Alanna and what she wanted, from insisting that all the seeds were hers–"They're all mine!"–as is the sauce–"I picked clean each vine, the sauce is mine, I'll keep it all myself"–to her worry that there wouldn't be enough sauce for her if they shared with others. She couldn't see beyond herself. This isn't unusual for very young children who see everything that happens as it relates to them. Fortunately, Alanna has a very wise Nan who guides her to experience generosity and gratitude by opening her heart and her kitchen to all.

"If everyone would do their part–

Contribute what they're able,

There'll always be enough for all,

If just brought to the table."

Similar to the parable about the fish and the loves, What's in Alanna's Secret Sauce? isn't about cooking or a recipe. It's about feeding masses with very little, all courtesy of a miracle. Nan's pot, even cauldron size, should only feed a limited number of people but, by some marvel, there is plenty. And there always is plenty in our world. People should not be going hungry. Author Sarah Jane Conklin, who currently lives in Nova Scotia but hails from Newfoundland, opens her story with a quote from Bono: "If you want to eliminate hunger, everybody has to be involved." Sarah Jane Conklin takes that sentiment and lodges it at a grass roots level in Nan's kitchen which she opens to everyone and anyone. Her secret sauce may draw them in, but everyone shares something, whether it be food, drink or sentiment, to turn a little sauce into a phenomenon to feel the belly and soul. And it's a lesson she teaches her grandchild by example.

From What's in Alanna's Secret Sauce? written by Sarah Jane Conklin, illustrated by Venus Angelica

I didn't know the work of illustrator Venus Angelica, originally from Toronto and now of Fredericton, but, wow, did she take me into Nan's garden and her kitchen, and even onto the street from which strangers and neighbours alike are drawn in. Her palette of autumnal colours of red, orange, green and yellow reflect the time of the harvest and also the time of Thanksgiving. Moreover, though they are just cooking and eating, there is life in Venus Angelica's art, from the bounce of Alanna's long curly hair to the swirls of aromas wafting from their cooking pot. And there is always goodness in the smiles of those partaking in the sauce to those doing the dishes and especially for Alanna's Nan who gives without reservation.

 

Having recently filled my own kitchen with jars and jars of tomato sauce and salsa, What's in Alanna's Secret Sauce? reminds me of the busyness and creation of good food. But it's the sharing of that food, giving without expectation, that brings the greatest joy and achieves the greatest good. So, this Thanksgiving, give thanks for food and give food to share, so that all have enough. And that's not much of a secret.