French Kids Eat Everything by Karen Le Billon

in a relaxed environment. Eating the same thing is also an important factor in diversifying children’s diets. At school, under the influence of peers, children taste and eat things that would have them turning up their noses at home (peer-induced behavioral change is also confirmed by American research). The French system is actually a highly perfected peer-pressure-driven food diversification program. With a few hundred attentive kids watching, would you make a fuss over your food?
    Teachers, too, played an active role in educating the children about food, explained Madame as we walked along the corridors to the exit. They had three key goals. The first was to protect children’s health and support their academic performance by feeding them nutritious food. The second goal was to educate children: to cultivate their palates, teach them basic rules of food hygiene and nutrition, and open their minds to food as culture, art, and national heritage. And the third goal was to discipline their eating habits, setting up healthy routines for when, where, how, what, and why kids ate what they did.
    At this point, I almost said something. Madame’s approach seemed incredibly rigid, and I didn’t think it was going to work with Sophie. But Madame was in full swing, and I decided to stay quiet.
    Proudly, Madame quoted, from memory, the French National Ministry of Education: “School is a privileged place in which children are educated about good taste, nutrition, and food culture. Good taste must be taught and learned, and can only be acquired over time.”
    The exact approach to serving food, she explained, was governed by rules set out by the Ministry. Vegetables had to be served at every meal: raw one day, cooked the next. Fried food could be served no more than once per week. Real fish had to be served at least once per week. Fruit was served for dessert every second meal, at a minimum; sugary desserts were allowed—but only once per week. The rules even specified the quantities of nutrients expected to be in the average meal (if you’re curious, these include 11 grams of high-quality protein, 220 milligrams of calcium, and 2.8 milligrams of iron for adolescents).
    Meal planning was overseen by a nutritionist and a committee of parent volunteers. Parents were intensely interested in what their children were eating. That last part didn’t surprise me: I had already heard parents greeting their children as they exited the classroom. Instead of the usual “What did you do in school today?” they all asked, “So how did you like your lunch?”
    This reflected, I later learned, French parents’ general lack of concern (at least to my North American eyes) with accelerating young children’s intellectual development. No flashcards, no toddler violin classes, no Baby Einstein. In fact, French parents are puzzled by the intensity with which American parents try to stimulate intellectual precociousness in their offspring. (Flash cards? Really? You must be joking!) The French are deeply committed to formal schooling (which was more advanced than at home, as far as I could tell). But most parents believe that teaching reading and writing is a task best left to professional teachers. Instead, French parents focus on what they think young kids can and should learn: how to savor and enjoy food. All food. A typical question one French parent will ask another is: “So, what does she like to eat”? The other parent will proudly respond: “ Elle mange un peu de tout .” (She eats a little bit of everything.)
    Entire books on this topic are written for new parents, with tempting titles like The Birth of Taste: How to Give Children the Gift of Enjoying Food . In fact, French parents love to recount anecdotes about kids’ first foods (much the same way North American parents share stories about first words). During our visits to village families with young children, we would