It’s Bread Day, and Nara and Papa set about feeding their sourdough starter, affectionately named Paolo. “One bubble. Two bubbles. Soon, Paolo fill[s] his jar with bubbles.” Expressive cartoons are rendered with a soft pastel palette and peppered with charming details as Nara and Papa knead the dough; finally, Papa scores the loaf, replicating a crayon drawing from Nara. But the gentle narrative takes a melancholy, somewhat abrupt turn when Bread Day rolls around again. Papa’s not here, and Mama tells Nara that they won’t be baking bread. Nara sadly places Paolo in the fridge. Cool grays and blues are deftly incorporated into the scenery as Nara struggles with grief; though Chung never states what has happened to Papa, it’s heavily implied that he’s died. The kitchen is now too clean and tidy, sharpening Nara’s pain. Eventually, she takes action, pulling out the ingredients and covering the cabinet doors with her father’s notes and her drawings. Mama’s there to offer a hug when Nara becomes distraught, believing that Paolo has gone, too. But as Paolo revives, so do Nara’s memories of her father. This delectable tale concludes with mother and child enjoying a warm loaf; a touching author’s note closes out the work. Nara and her family read East Asian.
