Perhaps amid the "daily-ness" of our family life is where my daughters will find their wisdom about food. I'm guessing, however, that it will be later, much later – when they are on their own and only hearing our voices in their heads.

"I don't like that," said my daughter upon looking at the broccoli rabe and sausage I am tossing with the steaming ribbons of fettuccine that I've just drained from the large pot on the stove. "I like pasta, but not all the other stuff. Can I have mine plain?"

As I transfer the pasta to a large serving bowl, I respond to her first comments, but ignore the question. "That's OK, you don't have to eat it."

"What can I have then?"

"This is what we are having for dinner. Why don't you toss the salad?" I've already drizzled olive oil and balsamic vinegar, and sprinkled sea salt and pepper over the greens. Her chin begins to set, and her arms are crossed. She's not having any of my redirecting.

"I don't like that."

I bring the enormous pasta platter to the table and think that we'll maybe have the leftovers for lunch tomorrow. "Hmm, I heard you the first time. You'll need to try a bite of everything and then if you don't like it, you don't have to eat it."

"But I'm hungry!" She begins to toss the greens.

"Me too. You know that your options are either what we are having for dinner or fruit." I check to make sure the candle in the center of the table is lit and that everyone has water or milk to drink, and then call the rest of the family to the table.

The conversation continues on her end, but I am done and move on to shooing our cat off the table for what seems like the 10th time that night. (I need to get a spray bottle or something, because even though I love animals, I don't love them where we'll be eating our food. (While we've been out sailing for the summer, she seems to have concluded that all of the surfaces in the house are hers. We'll need to spend the fall convincing her of her misunderstanding.)

When everyone is seated, we hold hands and give thanks for the food in front of us – one of us with a chin still cocked a little to the side – and I hold my breath to hear whether my youngest will exclude the pasta sauce from her prayer of gratitude.

It is her prayer, after all, and she can bless or not bless what she chooses (but she does still need to try a bit of everything). Maybe this time, she'll surprise us with her occasional, "I love this, it's not nearly as bad as it looks!"

PANCETTA, RED PEPPER AND PARSLEY WITH PENNE

4 ounces pancetta

1 tablespoon minced garlic, 2 to 3 cloves

1 red pepper, seeded and sliced into 1/2-inch slices

2 cups tomato sauce

1/4 cup coarsely chopped parsley

1/2 cup freshly grated Parmesan cheese

1 pound penne

Bring a medium pot of salted water to boil and follow instructions for cooking the pasta. In a large skillet, saut the pancetta until it begins to get crisp on the edges. Add the peppers and saut for 2 minutes. Add the garlic and saut for 30 seconds to 1 minute, and then add the tomato sauce. Bring to a boil, remove from heat and add the parsley. Toss with pasta and sprinkle with Parmesan. Serve immediately.

Serves 4 to 6.

BROCCOLI, SAGE AND RICOTTA SALATA ON FUSILLI

5 tablespoons olive oil (3 for broccoli and 2 for sage)

1 head of broccoli, about 4 cups cut

2 tablespoons minced fresh sage leaves

4 slices prosciutto

2 tablespoons minced garlic, about 5 cloves

1 cup grape or cherry tomatoes

1/4 teaspoon red pepper flakes

1/2 teaspoon kosher...