I was a picky eater, so I should not have been surprised to discover that my children were picky eaters, too—it's nature, however much we urge and force them to try a little bite of this and a spoonful of that. But like my mother (and my daughters), I learned to cook in order to satisfy myself. The result of this is that over the years, dinnertime has been an occasion of much consternation. I might set before them a dish of chicken breasts sprinkled with smoked paprika and baked over a bed of sliced onions, fresh rosemary, and lemon.