Given the sizable Chinese American population (20 percent in San Francisco, according to the 2002 census), children's books have a lot of catching up to do. Several new books reflect the Chinese American experience, good and bad.

What is considered the first Chinese American food? The fortune cookie, according to Fortune Cookie Fortunes by Grace Lin (Knopf; 32 pages; $15.95; ages 5-8). But just how this playful sweet came to be is up for debate. (An informative afterword places the popular cookie and its contents in cultural and historical context.)

The setup is simple enough: After dessert at a Chinese restaurant, one curious girl does some research to see if her family's fortunes come true. (This character made her first appearance in Lin's "Dim Sum for Everyone.") She finds out that each person makes his or her own fortune come true. For example, Ma-Ma's fortune reads, "Attention and care will make great things happen." She is then shown working away in her lush vegetable garden. Too bad that the logic police are off duty when it comes to the dad's fortune. Ba-Ba's reads, "Your moods are contagious." And what is his mood? Sleepiness. More a condition than a mood in my book. Still, this is a fun-filled book that invites kids to write their own fortunes and futures.

Lin uses the same crisp, bright, patterned art for One Is a Drummer: A Book of Numbers by Roseanne Thong (Chronicle; 32 pages; $14.95; ages 4-8). In this bouncy, rhyming concept book, an enthusiastic Chinese American girl (who first appeared in "Round Is a Mooncake") presents numbers from one to 10. One is a dragon boat. There are two wall greetings ("Luck" and "Fortune"), three kinds of dim sum, four friends playing mahjong, five fish balls on a stick and so on in a charming East-West blend. (Some kids are seen eating a hot dog, an ice cream cone, a wedge of watermelon.) But something is missing. How about putting numerals somewhere on the pages, nice and clear? The preschool set could then have fun with counting Asian fare and recognizing numbers, which would have made the multicultural book more multipurpose.

In the history department comes Henry and the Kite Dragon by Bruce Edward Hall and illustrated by William Low (Philomel; 40 pages; $15.99; ages 4-up). Eight-year-old Henry Chu recounts a misunderstanding between the kids from Chinatown and the kids from Little Italy. At issue: control of a nearby park and the skies. (Mr. Chin's kite creations scare some local pigeons and take heavy fire from some rocks.) Based on family stories that date back to New York City in the '20s, this tale is lengthy with episodes, weighty in theme and lofty in resolution. Hall focuses on prejudice and perseverance, apology and accommodation.

Low's painterly art establishes time, place and cultural detail. The kites are magical and the street life gritty. Granted, it is hard to hear a racial slur thrown out, but in the end, it is heartening to see how understanding finally breaks out.

Completely up-to-date in tone and telling is Ruby Lu, Brave and True by Lenore Look (Atheneum; 106 pages; $15.95; ages 6-10), an easy-to-read chapter book with lots of spunk . It couldn't be otherwise with 8-year-old Ruby center stage. She is outrageous, outspoken, tender, talented and generous, too. Scratchy black-and-white line drawings break up the pages as Look describes how Ruby reacts to a new baby brother, performs magic tricks, attends Chinese school on Saturdays and gets ready to share her room with an immigrant cousin fresh off the plane from China. And then there is the uproarious (and possibly upsetting to parents) incident when Ruby drives the car to Chinese school, mistakenly parking in the place reserved for the principal.

The whole package is perfect for its target audience, with big print, sprinklings of spot art, a flip-book component, a glossary and punctuation guide and likable lead character. The story isn't always as smooth as Ruby's sleight of hand, but that doesn't really detract from overall appeal.

A more sober story is found in Honeysuckle House by Andrea Cheng (Front Street; 136 pages; $16.95; ages 10-up). In this quiet study of two girls, Cheng explores the universal difficulties of fitting in -- at school, at home, in the community. Barriers include class, cultural differences and expectations, immigrant status and gender.

In alternating chapters, two 10-year-olds describe their separate lives and their coming together. Sarah is Chinese American and lives in Cincinnati. Her dad constantly travels for business, and her mom lovingly holds down the household. Her young brother misses Dad terribly, and vice versa. Her best friend and neighbor, Victoria, moves out with no notice and no forwarding address. Enter Ting, a new kid in the class who has just arrived from Shanghai and is in serious need of help. And who better to help, according to their teacher, than Sarah? Never mind that she speaks not a word of Chinese; looking alike is what seems to count.

Cheng deftly lets the girls reveal their personal challenges -- name- calling at school, being both Chinese and American, finding Victoria and forging real friendship from forced association. She also seamlessly alludes to the adults' challenges -- getting a green card, learning English, finding entry-level jobs and squaring dreams with daily demands. Many moments feel real -- from secret meetings under the honeysuckle to a foray into the abandoned house next door, in which the suspense is palpable. Add in little lies, acts of bravery, family tussles and tensions, and a surprise or two. From this natural portrayal of childhood, Cheng reveals important truths about being true to friends, family and self.