A couple of weeks ago I asked for food-related children’s book recommendations. People came through in a big way, and I’d like to report in and tell you how Iris and I liked some of what you came up with. If I don’t mention your suggestion, it probably just means it hasn’t come in to the library yet.

* The Bake Shop Ghost. I flipped through this book and thought it might be too many words for Iris, and warned her as much. Then we read it, and afterwards she said, “That book not too long.” She likes to find the page where the ghost is eating all the cakes, if that’s not too much of a spoiler. The story is a little sentimental for me: I was sort of waiting for the new owner to say, “Get your undead ass out of my kitchen and let me get my cake on.”

* The Giant Jam Sandwich. I thought I hadn’t read this one before, but it turned out I had, as a kid. We just read it for the first time yesterday. It’s one of those books with lots of things happening on every page, so Iris sees something new every time, like, “That pink guy not dancing!”

* Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs. How could I have forgotten this one? We read it and it didn’t seem to make much of an impression, but later Iris asked for the meatball book. She likes the giant donuts with sprinkles, especially since I promised we could get donuts with sprinkles next time we go to Pike Place Market. She also thinks it’s funny when a giant noodle falls on a guy’s head. People who think kids can’t make the distinction between cartoon violence and actual violence should watch Iris burst into tears when she sees another kid bump his head but laugh like a maniac when children are crushed to death by a giant pancake.

* The big winner, by far: Irving and Muktuk: Two Bad Bears. Two muffin-crazed polar bears keep showing up at the town of Yellowtooth’s annual blueberry muffin festival, wearing various disguises and attempting to steal the muffins. I wasn’t sure Iris would understand the idea of putting on a disguise, but she got it immediately. “Those are not penguins!” she giggled. She also loves the part where Muktuk drools. The first day we read this, I put her down for her nap and said, “Who loves Iris?”

**Iris:** “Dada, and Mama, and Grandma, and Pops. And Muktuk.”

Currently on hold at the library: Arnie the Doughnut.

A couple of weeks ago I made a recipe from All About Braising called Grillades and Grits. The grillades are thin-pounded chuck steaks braised in a Louisiana-style spicy sauce based on green pepper, onion, celery, tomato paste, and cayenne.

The grits, however, posed a problem. I’d never made grits before, and I looked all over for them. The book warned sternly against using instant grits, so when I found a box at QFC labeled “quick grits,” I figured that was the same thing. Turns out it’s not, but I learned that too late, so I got some polenta instead.

Polenta with parmesan didn’t sound right for this stew, but I was reluctant to give up cheese in my polenta, so I threw in a handful of grated Tillamook cheddar. It was delicious, and of course I’m not the first person to come up with cheddar polenta, as a Google search will reveal.

The polenta method I used was from Cook’s Illustrated. It’s the only method I know that is relatively low-maintenance but also fast: you cook the polenta on the stove over low heat for half an hour, stirring vigorously every five minutes. That Christopher Kimball, man: how can he be so right about food and so wrong about everything else?

After the successful cheddar polenta, I went and bought the box of quick grits, and Iris and I had some for breakfast today. I put brown sugar and milk on them like I do with oatmeal, which I’m sure will be an affront to grits purists. I suggested to Iris that we put butter on them next time, but she said, “These already buttery.” Which they kind of were.

I can’t say I really understand the difference between grits and polenta. Oh, I know that grits are made from hominy and polenta isn’t, but they take about the same amount of time to cook and taste about the same to me, possibly because I cover up their ephemeral flavor with things like brown sugar and cheddar. I’m complaining, anyway, since polenta and grits are both delicious and dirt-cheap.

Restaurants seem to gravitate toward crunchy fried polenta, which is certainly good, but something I’ve never seen in a restaurant is polenta with ragu, a big bowl of soft polenta with ragu bolognese ladled over it. How can you beat that?