When I was five years old I would ride my sled down this mountain in the park on Mosholu Parkway. When I was eleven I would go careening down this huge hill on Franklin Street in Yonkers on my bike. It’s really interesting to see how much of the topography has changed over these many decades since then. My wife and I live in Brooklyn now, but we occasionally visit the alter heim (the old country) and those slopes have leveled off considerably!

Yes, I’m kidding. I know that to my child eyes, things looked a lot bigger than they look to me now.

Back in the 1950s grown-ups were a lot taller, but by the mid-60s they had become more my size. The one part of me that was bigger when I was little and got smaller over time was my eyes. My parents, A”H, would sometimes comment that I had big eyes. They would say that when I wanted to take more food onto my plate than I could eat. “Take a little now and then when you finish it you can take some more,” was their suggestion that I seldom followed. And no, it wasn’t because I was afraid my siblings would finish it before I got to take more. My sister is eight years younger than me, and it’s just the two of us.

I can’t remember what it was that I was thinking, but it must have hereditary because I hear my grandchildren and their parents having the same conversation. I figured this was my opportunity to find out what I had been thinking back them. So I asked one of my grandchildren in the middle of one of these conversations over taking the whole thing to begin with, rather than taking a little and taking some more later. I asked what is it about, what are you concerned about that you need to take the whole thing now rather than a small piece now and more later. What’s the problem with that? My grandchild promptly replied, “I know I will finish it.” How remarkably simple and straightforward. How could I have missed this? Perhaps I missed it because invariably, when my kids let their children take the large piece they don’t finish it after all.

That’s one kind of food fight I remember from my childhood. The other one works the opposite way. Instead of wanting a huge piece or “the whole thing,” I would refuse to take any of some foods at all. Yet another example of all or nothing thinking! Now I enjoy broccoli and peas. Back then they were anathema . How did that happen, what changed? I always thought that as I got older, I became willing to tolerate foods that tasted barely okay and I gradually acquired a taste for them. But recently I came upon this:

According to Brian Wansink of Cornell University's Food and Brand Lab, "Children have the same number of taste buds as adults, but their tongue is a whole lot smaller, so the flavors are more intense the younger you are. That's why little kids don't like bitter foods and really like sweet foods. The effect is magnified." (Wall Street Journal, October 30, 2013)

I had always thought that children only want to eat what they really enjoy and don’t want to eat something they don’t like as much. It turns out that it isn’t that they don’t like it so much; some foods really taste awful to them, the flavor is way too strong. Children don’t make themselves gag and choke on foods they dislike. It is their body’s reaction to a very unpleasant flavor on their tongues.

Therefore what? I should only serve foods my kids like? I don’t want pizza and French fries for supper every day, and I don’t think it’s good for them, either. And how will I know what they might like if they never want to try anything new? How do they know they won’t like something if they won’t even try it? Besides, don’t they need to have a balanced diet?

I’m not a physician, and I’m not a dietician. If you’re concerned about your child receiving the nutrition he or she needs, check with your pediatrician. Usually, parents can come up with alternatives to unpalatable foods to give their children a full range of nutrients if they’re willing to be flexible rather than insisting that “this is what I’m serving tonight.”

You can also serve what you’re serving and make it palatable for a child who doesn’t like it. Sauces, condiments, even serving something cold that your child doesn’t like hot (carrots come to mind) can make a large difference in how that food tastes to your child.

Don’t ever say to your child, “sometimes you just have to eat something you really don’t like” unless you model that regularly.

How would I model that?

Let’s say, for example, that you are repulsed by lima beans. You can’t stand the texture, the smell, or the taste. You nonetheless prepare, serve, and eat lima beans at least once a week, explaining to your child that you detest them but you sometimes eat something you really don’t like because “that’s what we do.” If you’re not willing to eat something you don’t like, why do think your child should?

When my kids were younger, they (and I) would make a siren sound when my wife served zucchini. The zucchini alarm became fun for all of us, and one day when my wife told us that the cake we were enjoying was made from zucchini, we all laughed, sounded the siren, and kept right on eating it.

Family meals can be the nicest time of the day for you and for your children. Food fights can ruin that. Creativity and flexibility are the antidote. Keep your meals healthy and calm.

Rabbi Ackerman is a licensed psychotherapist. His private practice phone number is 718-344-6575.