My daughter, we’ll call her Max, was probably not quite four. Old enough to manage a fork and spoon and claim her own seat at the table, young enough to look tiny and adorable giggling from one of the black Windsors that surrounded it. It was one of the nights John would be home in time for dinner, which didn’t always happen, so the mood in the kitchen was high. The big table was set, candles lit, family sized bowls waiting to be filled with whatever I happened to be serving that night. The kids were scrabbling to their seats in anticipation of John’s imminent arrival when I put the filled salad bowl on the table.

Max’s eyes glanced anxiously at the salad, then darted away so I couldn’t see them. I’m sure they were glassy. For some time now, she and I had been doing a delicate dance of pushme-pullyou over a matter of great importance to both of us: what Max ate.

I’ve Learned – and Will Advise Anyone Who Will Listen – Not to Sweat the Little Things

See, Max wanted to eat chicken nuggets, French fries, pizza, grilled cheese, pasta, and all varieties of candy and deserts. I wanted Max to eat vegetables. Not just vegetables, but vegetables had become the field on which our dance battle played out, a clash we both hated but were each determined to win.

This little two-step we were doing was made especially difficult by Max’s personality: she was -and still is – absolutely the sweetest, most thoughtful, most accommodating child in the world. A natural peacemaker who always wanted to do the right thing. I knew that if there was any way Max could accommodate me, she would. So I knew that my exceedingly amenable and collegial daughter must really, REALLY hate green stuff. 

The pained, sorrowful look she gave me when I asked her to eat a green bean or try a tiny bit of broccoli made me want to throw the whole damn dinner away and lay out her own personal spread of rice crispy treats and Hershey bars. Sometimes, I just indulged that impulse. (After dinner. I have standards. And other kids. With long memories.)

But in less emotionally charged moments, I thought of a guy I used to work with. Bill had grown up in a big, raucous Irish family more focused on hops than barley. His mom, less knowledgeable than we are today about the importance of good nutrition and, honestly, probably too exhausted for the fight to enforce it, never made much of a serious effort to push Bill beyond his limited childhood culinary choices. Consequently, as an adult, I only knew Bill to eat five foods: chicken parmesan, pizza, steak, potatoes, and pasta. I’m shocked he’s still alive.

The Problem is That Food is Not a Little Thing

The thing about food is that it’s this really big thing that shows up as a series of really small things. No one meal is going to set us on the culinary straight and narrow. There are no lists of “good” or “bad” foods that, if followed, would constitute the perfect diet. It’s all about balance and it’s all about the long run.

This is part of what makes imparting healthy habits tricky. Food is so . . . constant. Even someone who starts out with the most high-minded nutritional aspirations for their child can become ground down by the sheer endlessness of it all.  

Breakfast. Lunch. Dinner. Drinks. Snacks. Food shopping. Food prep. Food fads. It can consume so much of a busy mom’s day that the big picture, the higher purpose of nourishing a child’s mind and body for today and for tomorrow, is obscured by the relentless need to keep our kids from starving to death. It’s like dropping so many pebbles on the ground, one by one, forgetting that, in the end, we’re shaping a landscape.

The Eating Habits our Children Learn Now Can Literally Shape Their Bodies, Attitudes, Preferences, and Future Health

It’s so easy to lose sight of the fact that we are the architects of our children’s palates. Especially in the U.S., where every Kids’ Menu offers the same six to eight foods we assume all kids everywhere prefer: chicken nuggets, burgers, French fries, grilled cheese, spaghetti, mac & cheese, quesadillas, and hot dogs. 

But kids in Korea crave kimchi. In Japan, kids eat sushi and sashimi. In India, kids eat okra and cauliflower curry. There is no biological imperative that says kids need to eat – or even want to eat – different foods than adults. It’s all about early exposure and normalizing the foods you choose to serve your children. 

And make no mistake, when we’re talking about our kids’ diets, we’re talking about their lives. At least one recent study has shown that eating too much fat and sugar as a child can alter that child’s microbiome – their gut bacteria – for life, even if they adopt healthier eating habits as they grow up. Eating fast or junk food frequently is associated with an increased risk of asthma, eczema, constipation, hyperactivity, obesity and its attendant struggles with self-esteem and depression. And we don’t need scientific studies to tell us that the foods we eat in childhood become the ones we turn to as adults.

So, much as I would like to take this whole food issue off your plate (see what I did there?), in good conscience, I can’t. It’s simply too important to your child’s health and well-being. What I can do is give you some personally tested, tried and true approaches to help your kids, and your whole family, to eat as healthfully as possible.

So Start Helping Them Build Healthy Habits Young

Start now. If your kids are really young, know that they have a natural preference for sweet things, so save the sweetest foods for last. What chance do mashed peas have as an applesauce chaser? 

As your kids get older and start eating “real food,” make the bulk of it what you’re eating. Banish the idea of “kid food” from your kitchen altogether. This one shift in mindset has several sneaky, mom-friendly benefits. First off, unless you yourself live on Captain Crunch and PB&Js, your child will be eating a more varied, interesting diet, expanding their palate naturally as they grow without any added effort on your part. 

Second, if you do live on Captain Crunch and PB&Js, or indulge in cheesesteaks three nights a week, knowing that you are handing those habits and preferences down to your precious baby might just help you eat more healthily yourself, something you and your child will both be very happy about in the days and years to come.  

Third – and this is a big one – you’re setting a precedent for, I don’t know, eighteen years or so of making one meal for everybody. Don’t underestimate how huge that is. I knew so many moms of five- to fifteen-year old’s who were running themselves ragged making pasta sauce without meat for this one and soup without onions for that one and vegan options for the other one. Unless you have kids with food allergies or other diagnosed food issues, set the expectation early that you serve one meal for everyone.

I always served dinner family style, with at least one totally bland, unobjectionable option. Usually bread. I expected everyone to at least taste everything I served, but beyond that they could pretty much choose what they wanted to eat –from what was on the table. Of course, to do this I had to hold tight to the belief that having bread for dinner never killed anyone and no child has ever voluntarily starved to death for want of a chicken nugget. 

This approach not only saved me probably a couple years’ worth of unnecessary work, it also avoided much of the let’s-see-how-much-mom-will-do-to-get-us-to-eat game so many kids seem to enjoy. 

Eat as Many Meals Together as Possible

There are soooooo many reasons to eat as many meals together as a family as you can squeeze into those eighteen years or so before your baby is grown and flown. One of them is that it teaches your kids healthy eating habits and lowers your kids’ risk of obesity! Just eating together! That’s a good deal.

In my house, dinner was our together meal. Six nights a week we all sat down together to eat and talk and transition from the working part of our day to the family part of our day. Sometimes our meals together were short, compressed by the pressure of homework or activities. But mostly they were at least an hour, usually the best hour of the day. 

It doesn’t have to be dinner though. If breakfast is the most convenient time to eat together, or maybe an afternoon snack before soccer and piano, do it. And it doesn’t have to be homemade, either. There’s a huge difference between bringing home a pizza to share and scarfing down a slice in the car on your way to band. It’s not just about the food; it’s about slowing down, appreciating what you’re eating, and spending time together.

Guide Your Kids’ Portion Sizes

I am seriously inclined to respect a kid’s decision on what and how much they want to eat – to a point. My oldest son – let’s call him Tiggs – had eyes that were way bigger than his stomach. And he was disinclined to notice whether everyone else had been served before he heaped mounds of the entrée du jour onto his plate. Guiding your kids’ portion sizes is not controlling their food intake; it’s helping them learn what healthy portions look like (and a still hungry kid is always welcome to another portion). They have last say on what goes into their bodies, but we have last say on what goes onto their plates.

Make Healthy Choices Easy

You don’t need me to tell you to ix-nay on the ookies-cay if your child needs a twelve-step program for their Oreo issues. What I’m saying here isn’t about avoiding, it’s about adding. 

I so wish I could hand you a world full of healthy takeout and pre-packaged fit foods for families. We’re not there yet. Know that I consider this an equity issue, my sisters, and I vote like a mom. Until then, we’ll have to find ways to stock our own kitchens with healthy fast foods.

Keep bananas and apples and grapes and celery and raisins and oatmeal and berries and pineapple on hand regularly. There’s a slew of organic bars and cookies and crackers and whatnot, but unless you want to go with a food subscription service, healthy prepared meals are hard to find. One thing I often do is double or even quadruple meals I’m making and stock the freezer with them. Then, when I know I’ve got a super busy day coming up and won’t be able to cook, I can shop for “take out” from my freezer. 

But Remember Treats are Not the Enemy

All this talk of healthy eating might lead you to believe I am anti-treat. Au contraire, mon ami. I’m not sure life would be worth living without the occasional Rita’s blendini or the exquisite Sciascia’s chocolates. But the key word here is occasional. Be judicious and thoughtful, not reflexive, about indulgences and your kids will pick up the habit. 

And I’m going to break with the conventional wisdom here and say I have absolutely no problem whatsoever offering the periodic treat as a reward or consolation prize, so long as it’s not overused and is accompanied by its emotional equivalent. Turns out HoHos kinda do help with concussions. Ice cream soothes bruised egos. Twix bars rebuild relationships. And Pringles make losing a grandmother a little less sad.  

Food is to be Celebrated!

The reason the experts would call me to task for my aforementioned its-fine-to-use-dessert-as-a-bribe bit is because they fear elevating desserts above all other kinds of food. The reason I don’t give that a second thought is because I’m advocating that you openly and deliberately celebrate all food. 

Sing the praises of roasted vegetables. Flagrantly delight in your salads. Periodically bring home something “new” for the whole family to try, and announce it ahead of time as an adventure. I heard there’s a place in town that makes fantastic Peking duck. I’m picking some up Friday for us all to try!

It’s also fun to align your food adventures with other events in the world. Bring home Mexican on Cinco de Mayo and maybe watch a little Coco if your kids are into it. Serve Steak au Poivre and chocolate mousse on Bastille Day, and corned beef and mashed in honor of St. Patrick. Your kids will enjoy and hopefully catch your sense of fun and adventure when it comes to food. 

And there you have it. The perfect recipe for raising kids to be healthy, intrepid foodies.

Well . . . not exactly. 

And if all Else Fails, Take the Long Road

Despite my best efforts I did, after all, find myself nose to nose with a tearful Max over a bowl of salad just minutes before we were supposed to sit down to the happiest hour of the day. Just as I envisioned my beautiful evening swirling down the drain, I remembered something. That no one meal is going to set us on the culinary straight and narrow. That it’s all about the long run. That I had many, many more pebbles left to shape Max’s particular food landscape.

I leaned into Max’s ear. Sweetpea, you don’t need to try any salad tonight. Tonight, you just need to live with it being on the table. Without looking sad. That will be good enough for now.

Max was thrilled. That went on for maybe six months. Then one night, when she was completely comfortable having salad on the table, I said, Sweetpea, you’ve done really well with having salad on the table. Tonight I’d like you to start putting some on your plate. You don’t have to eat it, just allow it to peacefully coexist with the rest of your meal.

Max wasn’t thrilled, but trusted me that this wasn’t a ploy to force her to eat anything, so she did it. That went on for maybe six months. Meanwhile I amped up the cheese and croutons (who doesn’t love cheese and croutons?) prompting the whole family pretty much rave about my amazing salads. So much so that by the time I leaned into Max’s ear to say, Sweetpea, you’ve done really well with having salad on your plate. Tonight I’d like you to take one bite, she wasn’t horrified. She didn’t cry. 

Thus began my daughter’s long metamorphosis from veggie hater to foodie and veggie lover.

I share this story at Max’s request. We were out to lunch this week and she was practically dancing in her chair over her entre: steak tartare topped with a raw quail egg and a side salad. 

Remember how I used to hate trying new foods? she said. Remember when you had to force me to eat salad?

I remembered. 

Thanks for that, she said. Think how much I would have missed out on.