The Oxford Companion to Wine 2015 :AI時代的品質革命,當然很多需添加,重寫:挺不過市場寒冬,不到一年時間2025,法國葡萄酒產區接連傳出三起酒農自殺事件。。The Oxford Companion to Children's Literature/ 牛津兒童文學百科/ Memories of a Bedtime Book Club/‘This Is Our House’ and ‘Once Upon a Northern Night’ 「清酒真相」旨在讓人瞭解 澄清人們對清酒的常見誤解 NHK World-Japan 推出了一個名為「清酒真相」(SAKE TRUTH)的節目,旨在探索清酒的各個方面,包括風味的科學原理和歷史創新。 東京大學實驗 (機械感官,就甜,酸.....四面向量度) 飲用溫度:清酒可依其風格選擇冷藏4度C、常溫20度或溫熱(焗酒50度)飲用。
The Oxford Companion to Wine 2015 :AI時代的品質革命,當然很多需添加,重寫。.The Oxford Companion to Children's Literature/ 牛津兒童文學百科/ Memories of a Bedtime Book Club/‘This Is Our House’ and ‘Once Upon a Northern Night’
‘This Is Our House’ and ‘Once Upon a Northern Night’
From "This Is Our House"
By SARAH HARRISON SMITH
Published: July 31, 2013
“What would it be like to stay in one place — to have your own bed, to ride your own bicycle?” a little girl named Anna wonders in Maxine Trottier’s 2011 picture book, “Migrant.” “Now that would be something.” Anna’s parents, who are migrant workers, move from one temporary home to another, and Anna imagines herself as a rabbit, living in abandoned burrows, or a bee, flitting from flower to flower. She is effectively homeless, and longs to live a settled life, “like a tree with roots sunk deeply into the earth.”
THIS IS OUR HOUSE
Written and illustrated by Hyewon Yum
40 pp. Frances Foster Books/Farrar, Straus & Giroux. $16.99. (Picture book; ages 3 to 8)
ONCE UPON A NORTHERN NIGHT
By Jean E. Pendziwol
Illustrated by Isabelle Arsenault
32 pp. Groundwood Books. $17.95. (Picture book; ages 4 to 7)
Home is also at the heart of two new picture books, “This Is Our House,” written and illustrated by Hyewon Yum, and “Once Upon a Northern Night,” written by Jean E. Pendziwol and illustrated by Isabelle Arsenault (whose artwork for Trottier’s “Migrant” earned a New York Times Best Illustrated award). Yum, originally from South Korea but now living in Brooklyn, sets her story in a city that could very well be New York, among a family of recent immigrants whose country of origin is never specified; Pendziwol and Arsenault, both Canadian, describe a cozy home in a wintry rural landscape.
On the title page of “This Is Our House,” a watercolor illustration shows a photograph of a little girl peeking her head around a front door, as if to welcome the reader inside. On the next, a framed black and white photograph — again painted in watercolor — shows the house as it looked when her grandparents “arrived from far away with just two suitcases in hand.” In a pattern Yum continues throughout the book, the photo of the house is faced by a full-page scene. Here, the girl’s grandparents talk to each other as they stand outside their new home for the first time. The grandmother looks as if she is either shyly pleased, or hesitant. What is certain is her husband’s encouraging smile.
The photos reveal the public story, Yum seems to suggest, but there’s more to be told. And sure enough, the full-page scenes are intimate rather than posed: moments of action, and sometimes of crossness and tears; a little quarrel over the painting of the baby’s room on one side of the spread, a photo of the delighted expectant mother posing in a fully decorated room on the other. Mostly, the three generations who come to live in the house together display smiles and kind concern for one another.
Yum uses a springlike palette of yellow, pinks and greens, even when there’s snow on the sidewalk, and the little girl’s dark braids perfectly set off the fresh, happy colors. With time, the once-bare facade of the house comes to life with window boxes, flowering hedges and potted plants of the front stoop. The seasons cycle though the pictures as the family grows, including, at the end, a baby brother for the little narrator. She gives a slight twist to the book’s title in her final summary: “This is our home where my family lives.”
If family is central to Yum’s sense of home, Pendziwol and Arsenault enlarge that sense of a precious place to encompass a natural setting. “Once Upon a Northern Night” is spoken in a voice that could be that of an artist, a parent or even a deity. While a fair-haired boy sleeps “wrapped in a downy blanket,” the voice describes a scene in which wild animals roam across snowy fields as the northern lights play across the sky. Of the lights, the narrator says, “I tried to capture them but they were much too nimble, and only their rhythm reached you, deep in slumber, rising and falling with each sweet peaceful breath.”
Arsenault’s nighttime landscapes, created with gouache, ink, pencil and watercolor, add dramatic emphasis to the text; the wings of an owl with bright yellow and black eyes can scarcely fit on two pages; the russet tail and hind legs of a fox are lit by the moon while the rest of his body can be seen only faintly, in the shadows. Black and white dominate with occasional flashes of color — red apples on the bare branches of a tree, spiky green pine needles. The boy’s house appears only twice, but the overwhelming sense of the home is as a secure haven from which to view, or imagine, a mysterious and beautiful world. Older children may resist the slight sentimentality of Pendziwol’s text, but on a dark night a younger child is likely to revel in this book’s mixture of magic, wildlife and deep comfort.
Dig into almost 2,000 entries in this bulging resource, where Anne of Green Gables rubs elbows with the Lord of the Rings, Mother Goose with Punch and Judy, Hans Christian Andersen with Christina Rossetti, and Maurice Sendak with Kate Greenaway. It's thorough -- and indispensable for teachers, librarians, and parents.
Product Details
608 pages; 134 b/w drawings, & halftones;
About the Author
Humphrey Carpenter's books include biographies of J. R. R. Tolkien, W. H. Auden, C. S. Lewis, Ezra Pound, and Benjamin Britten. He is the author of the popular Mr Majeika series of stories for children. Mari Prichard has worked as a broadcaster and teacher, and is now a local government education officer. She and Humphrey Carpenter were married in 1973 and have two daughters.
Table of Contents
Preface, Acknowledgements, Note to the Reader, A-Z text.
Roald Dahl 在1990年就過世。The Oxford Companion to Children's Literature 寫於80年代,不過90年代再版多次,卻未更新資料;http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Roald_Dahl
The beloved children’s author turned down an OBE, supposedly because he was holding out for a knighthood instead, but he died in 1990 without ever receiving one.
伊登在她編輯的《紐約時報最佳童書指南》(The New York Times Parent』s Guide to the Best Books for Children, 1988)中描述了這種即興詢問。她會用一長串的問題轟炸你:「多大的孩子?男孩女孩?住在哪兒?有兄弟姐妹嗎?是單親家庭嗎?有什麼特殊愛好嗎?是想要 一本可供朗讀的書 ,還是讓孩子自己看的書?」
其中一本是《巨大的線球》(The Giant Ball of String, 2002),文圖作者是阿瑟·蓋澤特(Arthur Geisert)。我們差不多把這本書都翻破了。它是個俏皮的道德寓言故事,講述了關於愛、偷竊、欺詐與正義。它可以被拍成一部嚴肅的兒童復仇惡作劇,可以讓韋斯·安德森(Wes Anderson)來導演。
另一本叫《嬰兒們爬走的那一天》(The Day the Babies Crawled Away, 2003),作者是佩姬·拉特曼(Peggy Rathmann)。天知道為什麼某些圖畫書能像魚鉤一樣緊緊地抓住你的心。對我們來說,這本書就是這樣的。它的故事情節很簡單——一群嬰兒在集市上從父 母的身邊爬走,一個小男孩跟隨並搭救了他們。
馬克·艾倫·斯達馬提(Mark Alan Stamaty)1973年出版的精彩而超現實的圖畫書《誰需要甜甜圈》(Who Needs Donuts?)是我準備打包的另一本書。斯達馬提把書中所有空白的地方都畫上了超現實的、詼諧的細節圖。這本書在2003年由Alfred A. Knopf出版社再次出版,堪稱經典。
湯米·狄波拉(Tomie De Paola):《騎士和火龍》(The Knight and the Dragon)
朱爾斯·菲弗(Jules Feiffer):《汪汪喬治》(Bark, George)
朱爾斯·菲弗:《我丟了我的熊》(I Lost My Bear)
尼爾·蓋曼和戴夫·麥基恩:《牆中狼》
阿瑟·蓋澤特:《巨大的線球》
史蒂夫·古德曼和邁克爾·麥柯迪:《名叫新奧爾良的火車》
羅素·霍本(Russell Hoban和莉蓮·霍本(Lillian Hoban):《弗朗西絲的麵包和果醬》(Bread and Jam for Frances)
蒙羅·利夫(Munro Leaf)和羅伯特·勞森(Robert Lawson):《費迪南德的故事》(The Story of Ferdinand)
阿斯特麗德·林德格倫(Astrid Lindgren)和哈拉爾德·維貝格(Harld Wiberg):《湯姆登和狐狸》(The Tomten and the Fox)
佩姬·拉特曼:《嬰兒們爬走的那一天》
科林·薩莉和珍妮特·史蒂文斯:《愛潑薩蒙達》
莫里斯·森達克(MAURICE SENDAK):《夜晚的廚房》(In the Night Kitchen)
馬克·艾倫·斯達馬提:《誰需要甜甜圈》
桑德拉·斯蒂恩(Sandra Steen),蘇珊·斯蒂恩(Susan Steen)和G·布萊恩·卡拉斯(G. Brian Karas):《洗車》(Car Wash)
Critic’s Notebook
Memories of a Bedtime Book Club
ByDWIGHT GARNERJuly 23, 2013
The wine boxes and masking tape are out, because I’ve begun to pack up the last, best books in my children’s picture book library.
This is an overdue task. They’re 13 and 15 now and we haven’t read aloud to them in years. We’ve kept this final stack at hand out of undiluted nostalgia. Moving it into the attic shouldn’t be a big deal. But it is.
In the past, when I’ve had to pack my personal library, what I’ve boxed are talismans of intense yet essentially private experience. Picture books aren’t like this. When you’re putting away these square, dog-eared, popcorn-butter-stained things, you’re confronting an entire cosmos of collective memory.
Because my wife and I so repeatedly read these favorite picture books aloud — comically, exhaustedly, occasionally inebriatedly — to our children, their words and images have worn grooves into our minds. They occupy places in our family’s shared consciousness as indelibly as do summer vacations, trips to the hospital or injured birds cared for in cardboard boxes.
They’re the fine, weird, uncanny poems we’ve each memorized and carry around in our heads. They’re evocative of some of life’s best things — wet hair, clean pajamas, the end of working days. They’re the last books the four of us are likely ever to read again at anything like the same moment. Our splendid nightly book club has ended its run.
Happily for us, our book club had its Oprah. Her name was Eden Ross Lipson.
Eden was The New York Times Book Review’s longtime children’s book editor, a legend in her field, who died in 2009. When my kids were little, I worked as an editor at the Book Review, and I had the crazy good fortune to possess the desk next to hers.
She had a jumbo-size personality (the journalist Cokie Roberts spoke at her funeral service) and jumbo-size opinions. She wouldn’t recommend a book for your children until she knew everything about them and, almost as importantly, everything about you. She’d need to grill you. Her interrogations were tests of character.
Eden described these improvised interviews in “The New York Times Parent’s Guide to the Best Books for Children,” (1988) a book she edited. She would bear down on you like this: “How old a child? A boy or a girl? Where does he or she live? Siblings? Intact family? Special interests? A book to read aloud, or a book for a child to read to herself?”
These were merely the opening salvos. It was as intense as psychotherapy. Afterward, you had to go and sit down. At the time, I still smoked, so I’d recuperate in one of the smoking lounges in the Times’s old building on West 43rd Street.
One of Eden’s dictums was that there was no way to tell if a new children’s classic had arrived until a generation or two had passed. The question isn’t whether you’ll read a book to your kids. It’s whether they will read the same book to their kids, and so on down the line.
My wife, Cree, and I both had favorite kids’ books from when we were young, books we couldn’t wait to read aloud to our children. But Eden was always there to slip me a new thing or two. “Here,” she’d say, “this writer has really got something.” Or: “Dwight, I think your daughter is finally ready for this.” Some of these became dearly prized.
One was “The Giant Ball of String” (2002), with text and art by Arthur Geisert. We’ve read this book until it’s nearly come apart. It’s a sly moral fable about love and theft and guile and justice. You can imagine it directed, as a kind of poker-faced kid’s revenge caper, by Wes Anderson.
Another was “The Day the Babies Crawled Away” (2003) by Peggy Rathmann. Who knows why certain picture books catch like fishhooks in your mind. For us, this was one of them. It’s barely got a story — it’s about a gaggle of babies who crawl away from their parents at a fair, and the young boy who follows and rescues them.
But it’s beautiful and enveloping. Everything is in crisp shadow against a neon late afternoon sky. There are funny grace notes, like the one baby who can be found hanging upside down somewhere in almost every drawing. Kids love to scan busy drawings for unpredictable detail. Ours nicknamed this weird kid “bat baby.”
Eden also gave me “Epossumondas” (2002), by Coleen Salley with illustrations by Janet Stevens. It’s based on a Southern folktale, and it’s hilarious.
I usually ended up reading this story aloud — I hope my Southern friends will forgive me for this — in the kind of faux-backwoods accent Mick Jagger employed in the song “Far Away Eyes.” The book’s about a possum who is “his mama’s and his auntie’s sweet little patootie.”
Other books, in our pile of favorites, we discovered on our own.
Hans de Beer’s “Little Polar Bear” (1987), for example, a witty, plaintive book my children adored when they were barely out of diapers.
It’s hideous joy to watch them frolic, and to witness them getting their comeuppance. The book’s refrain, uttered by a girl’s disbelieving mother and father, is this: “If the wolves come out of the walls, then it’s all over.”
Mark Alan Stamaty’s brilliant and surreal 1973 picture book, “Who Needs Donuts?”, is another I’m about to pack up. Mr. Stamaty tattoos every available surface in his books with surreal and witty detail. This book, reissued by Alfred A. Knopf in 2003, deserves to become a classic.
It’s one I’ve read to my children at least 500 times. To this day we can’t drive past a Dunkin’ Donuts without someone in the back seat plaintively or sarcastically mewling the book’s central question: “Who needs doughnuts, when you’ve got love?”
Then there’s “The Train They Call the City of New Orleans” (2003), which is little more than the lyrics to Steve Goodman’s classic 1970 song, illustrated by Michael McCurdy. What a good idea. You’ve got to be willing to whisper-sing to your kids to put this over.
We didn’t, when our kids were young, only read picture books at bedtime. One of Cree’s best inventions was the “popcorn reading party.” Here’s how you have a popcorn reading party: a) You make popcorn. b) You gather a pile of your best kids’ books. c) You yell, “popcorn reading party!” d) You try to work it out so that the kids books end at about the same time the popcorn does.
We read plenty of classics to our kids. But I’ve intentionally omitted Aesop, the Brothers Grimm, Doctor Seuss or other classic practitioners here. They don’t need my assistance.
It’s a treat to be able to pass along news of a few lesser-known books that I’m certain will pass the Eden Test. Someday my kids will open these boxes, gasp with delight, and eagerly read them to their own.
FAMILY FAVORITES
The list, in alphabetical order:
HANS DE BEER “Little Polar Bear”
TOMIE DE PAOLA “The Knight and the Dragon”
JULES FEIFFER “Bark, George”
JULES FEIFFER “I Lost My Bear”
NEIL GAIMAN AND DAVE MCKEAN “The Wolves in the Walls”
ARTHUR GEISERT “The Giant Ball of String”
STEVE GOODMAN AND MICHAEL MCCURDY “The Train They Call the City of New Orleans”
RUSSELL HOBAN AND LILLIAN HOBAN “Bread and Jam for Frances”
MUNRO LEAF AND ROBERT LAWSON “The Story of Ferdinand”
ASTRID LINDGREN AND HARALD WIBERG “The Tomten and the Fox”
PEGGY RATHMANN “The Day the Babies Crawled Away”
COLEEN SALLEY AND JANET STEVENS “Epossumondas”
MAURICE SENDAK “In the Night Kitchen”
MARK ALAN STAMATY “Who Needs Donuts?”
SANDRA STEEN, SUSAN STEEN AND G. BRIAN KARAS “Car Wash”
NHK World-Japan 推出了一個名為「清酒真相」(SAKE TRUTH)的節目,旨在探索清酒的各個方面,包括風味的科學原理和歷史創新。
AI Overview
"Sake Truth" refers to clarifying common misunderstandings about sake, revealing it's a brewed rice beverage like beer, not wine, made with rice, water, yeast, and koji mold, typically 15-16% ABV, and enjoyed chilled or warm, with proper etiquette involving pouring for others. Key truths include its beer-like brewing (starch to sugar), not spirit-like; it doesn't always age well; and its serving involves respect, like pouring for companions.
Key Sake Truths:
Brewed, not distilled: Sake undergoes fermentation similar to beer (starch to sugar), unlike wine (fruit sugar) or spirits (distilled).
Ingredients: Rice, water, yeast, and koji mold are the essential components.
Alcohol Content: Usually 15-16% ABV, higher than wine but lower than spirits, often diluted from ~20%.
Serving Etiquette: Pouring for others and receiving with two hands is a sign of respect; it's a shared experience, not self-pouring.
Serving Temperature: Can be enjoyed chilled, room temperature, or warm (kanzake), depending on the style.
Aging: Most sake is best fresh; it doesn't necessarily improve with age like wine.
Nama Sake (Raw Sake): Unpasteurized sake offering vibrant, complex flavors, meant to be served chilled.
"Sake Truth" as a Program:
NHK World-Japan has a program called SAKE TRUTH that explores these aspects, including the science of flavor and historic innovations.
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