My mother had been very possessive in the kitchen. If you weren't willing to submit to the long apprenticeship, beginning with years of dishwashing before you graduated to salads, then dessert, you were not welcome in her kitchen.

I had other interests as a kid, and didn't want to be bothered with my mother's method of teaching me to cook. I was a militant non-cook when I got married. But since I was the one at home all the time, I was responsible for meals.

I had to learn in a hurry, and I soon had a daughter to feed.

As soon as my daughter was big enough to stop digging in the cabinets and holding onto my leg every time I stepped into the kitchen, I had her helping me. She was 2 years old, standing on a step stool, helping me pour flour, or water, or oil into various bowls. Pretty soon, my daughter could recite biscuit recipes, and knew more than a little about how to make cornbread.

By the time she was 8, my daughter could make simple foods, like French toast, all by herself.

Now that she's 16, my daughter wants to be a chef. She loves Sherry Yard, pastry chef for Spago, and she has both of her cookbooks.

My 13 year old son doesn't have the same passion for cooking, but he is responsible for making lunch on weekdays, and recently handed over the breakfast duty to his younger sister.

I have younger daughters now, and their eyes light up when they tell their father what they made for dinner. Cooking with children is fun, and you can all learn something if you're open to it.