Henry and Eve's father warns them about what happens to whiny children. Sure enough, a monster steals the siblings for supper. But back "on the bad side of town," the monsters can't decide on a preparation (salad, burgers, or "whiny-child vindaloo"?). Kaplan's ink and watercolor illustrations are amusingly crude, and the deadpan humor will please parents as much as children. (c) Copyright 2011. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

PreS-Gr 3-For those who like their picture books with a little edge and offbeat humor, this is a surefire hit. Henry and Eve are "going through a TERRIBLE phase"; they whine constantly and are eventually stolen by a monster and taken to his lair. To be fair, their kindly father did warn them. Luckily, the monster and his wife whine and argue even more than the children, and cannot agree on what to make: whiny-child salad, burgers, or vindaloo? On the advice of a deliciously cantankerous aunt, the monsters finally agree on simple whiny-child cucumber sandwiches on fluffy white bread. In the meantime, however, the clever children escape, having learned an important lesson about whining-mostly. The recipe for cucumber sandwiches, minus the whiny children, is included. Kaplan's minimalist cartoon illustrations bring to mind Quentin Blake's work and complement the humorous, quirky text with its askew frames, thick black lines, and color accents. The book makes a great read-aloud. Opportunities for whiny monster voices abound, and readers are guaranteed a laugh when the monster's wife insists she cannot eat whiny-child cake because her bottom is too big.-Suzanne Myers Harold, Multnomah County Library System, Portland, OR (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

Take a dollop of Edward Gorey, add a dash of Lemony Snicket and a soupçon of Struwwelpeter, stir briskly, and voilà! You have Monsters Eat Whiny Children. New Yorker cartoonist Kaplan's first picture book for children is a droll cautionary tale about what happens when whiny little Henry and Eve are kidnapped by a hungry monster and whisked off to his house. There, the monster and his wife begin to argue about how to serve the kids, who are sitting in a salad bowl, still whining. Then a neighbor arrives with his own idea of a menu (whiny-child burgers), and the kitchen is soon filled with disputatious monsters, and, sure enough, their bickering eventually allows the kids to make an escape. Kaplan's distinctive cartoon drawings adorn each page and no surprise add a seasoning of welcome humor. As a bonus, the endpapers feature a mini adventure that invites readers to employ their own imaginations.--Cart, Michael Copyright 2010 Booklist

A monster with a dragging tail and crested head takes whiners Henry and Eve home in a sack, planning to make them into whiny-child salad, but that doesn't curtail their behavior ("I don't like sitting on lettuce," whines Henry). The monster's wife is similarly afflicted: "I hate cilantro!" she screams, ordering him to remix the salad dressing. But while the monsters and neighbors debate dinner options ("Perhaps a whiny-child vindaloo"), Henry and Eve hightail it for home. New Yorker cartoonist Kaplan adds only the subtlest color washes to his blank-eyed figures, framed inside black lines, serving the snarky text with a pinch of Shel Silverstein and plenty of bourgeoisie irony. Ages 4-8. (Aug.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

New Yorkercartoon vibe asserting, "sometimes it's so hard to figure out if you're in the mood for Indian food." By book's end the children redeem themselves by helping the indecisive, bereft monsters overcome their bickering, and they escape through a window leaving the monsters to enjoy cucumber sandwiches (recipe included). Throughout the book, ample white space offsets energetic, expressive line drawings expertly highlighted with retrained use of color. There's nothing to whine about here. (Picture book. 4-8)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.