Acey, 10

I’m fairly certain every child is a picky eater. People who tell you their kids happily tuck into beetroot and feta salads? I don’t buy it. The majority of children are selective, and you just have to navigate it. If they see you eating vegetables often enough, eventually they come round.

Acey is 10, lifts weights and is seriously into rugby; he’s already training with boys older than him. He’s constantly burning energy, so my job is to get food into him before he realises he’s hungry. If I wait for him to ask, all he’ll want is whatever comes in the brightest wrapper.

He eats loads of meat and fish, loves cheese and salami, and we’ll make omelettes, burgers or cheese toasties with cured meat. He’s started making his own smoothies, too, blitzing frozen mango and pineapple with a mixture of coconut and cow’s milk. He’d never choose fruit, but if I put a chopped apple in front of him, he’ll eat it. This is also true of breakfast; he’ll say he’s not hungry, but if I put yoghurt, honey and granola in front of him, it’ll disappear.

Vegetables are still a work in progress. Sweetcorn, peas and carrots are fine, but anything greener needs a bit of encouragement. That’s where the old chef’s tricks come in. A tomato sauce packed with blended vegetables, a bolognese or stew cooked low and slow, or getting him to thread peppers on to kebabs or build his own pizza. If he’s involved, he’s more likely to eat it.

We don’t eat together enough during the week because of my work hours, but weekends are different. The barbecue goes on, everything gets dumped in the middle of the table – burgers, chicken, pitta, hummus, salad – and everyone helps themselves. He dodges the salad, but he’ll happily mop up the olive oil with warm bread, and that’s a start.

Tom Kerridge is a TV chef and founder of five restaurants including The Hand & Flowers in Marlow, Buckinghamshire.

Arya, 9, and Yogi, 6

As a mixed-race family, we cook boldly and eat widely. I cook from everywhere east of India and my husband, Hugh, loves Nigel Slater. That said, our children don’t automatically eat boldly, although they did both choose to be vegetarian.

Our eldest, Arya, only ate beige food until she was about six. Now she’ll out-eat all of us on the chilli front and that’s become her thing, it’s almost an identity. She even has a T-shirt with a bottle of sriracha on it (she first tried it age seven with some tofu nuggets I was experimenting with). Meanwhile, Yogi is becoming more open-minded; six to 12 months ago, she’d sometimes burst into tears if I put something new on the table. Now she eats most things, but I tend to have a backup – like fried eggs or bread and cheese.

Falafel is one of our go-to meals – I always keep some ready-made in the freezer. Everyone customises their own – with gherkins, pickled beetroot and chillies, hummus, cucumber, cherry tomatoes, grated carrot, mayonnaise, sriracha, cabbage, tahini and even mango chutney – which they find empowering. Egg fried rice was one of the first things we ate together and remains a favourite. We all love katsu curry, most dals, paneer in any form, and tofu, either in nuggets, or in a homespun poke bowl or, surprisingly, the silken kind with rice and a sweet and salty sesame sauce.

I’ve always found it works to introduce something new alongside something familiar. When I first made them my sticky mango and lime paneer naans, I explained they both loved all its ingredients – paneer, mango, naan. I’ve introduced spices gradually, too, making mild versions and then adding a quarter of a teaspoon more each time I make it.

I was labelled a fussy eater as a child, but I think I just had incredibly sensitive taste buds. We underestimate how differently kids experience flavour; a cumin seed can seem explosively bitter, and something like kimchi can be overwhelming. The biggest lesson for me has been not to label children. If you keep calling them fussy, they start believing that’s who they are. I used to tell Arya, “Just try one cherry tomato every year and see what happens.” The other day, she ate not one, but three.

Meera Sodha is a cook, author of four cookbooks and Guardian Feast columnist.

Sam, 15, and Jude, 11

I’ve got two very different children, in temperament and in the way they eat. I’ve realised over time that the best way to tackle it is to find different ways to prepare the same thing.

Sam says he hates roast chicken, but what he actually doesn’t like is the fatty, “slimy” skin. If I slice up the breast and wrap it in a flour tortilla, he’s delighted. Jude, meanwhile, wants the chicken leg, skin and all. The same goes for broccoli. Sam likes it crisp and crunchy; Jude likes it cooked a minute longer until it’s soft. Once I started asking why they didn’t like something, instead of writing it off, feeding them became much easier.

They’ve always loved tuna macaroni, which I originally made with lots of sweetcorn. Over time, I’ve slowly built in more flavours – I’ll cook down onions, carrots and celery into a really delicious base, then grate in courgette until it melts away like butter, or finely slice green beans so they disappear into noodles. I’m wary of hiding vegetables, though. I tell them what’s in there because I don’t want food to become a trick. I’d rather they thought, “Actually, grated courgette is what makes this taste so good.”

When the boys were little, I couldn’t work out why they devoured my mum’s congee and omelettes but barely touched mine. Mum laughed and said, “Salt and sugar”, each of which she adds a pinch of when she cooks. As a new mother I was so focused on doing everything “right”, whereas she was focused on making it delicious.

They love chilli con carne and poke bowls. For the poke, I briefly marinate cubed salmon in mayo, soy, maple syrup, lemon and, more recently, wasabi. Grill it for two minutes and then put that on top of a rice bowl with edamame, corn and, if I’m feeling fancy, a pineapple and mango salsa. We also love ants climbing a tree, a Sichuan Chinese dish with glass noodles and minced pork.

Sometimes I think we put too much pressure on ourselves to produce the perfect balanced plate. The other night I was rushing out and just put prosciutto, halloumi, avocado and cucumber on the table. Sam texted me afterwards saying, “More of this, please.” It made me realise that a meal doesn’t have to look worthy to be balanced.

Helen Goh is a pastry chef and the author of Baking and the Meaning of Life. She co-writes the Sweet Spot column in Guardian Feast.

Dylan, 10, and Esca, 3

My eldest, Dylan, is 10 now and a brilliant eater, but it took a long time to get here. He always liked fruit and raw vegetables, which reassured me, but meals with sauces or lots of mixed flavours just weren’t his thing.

The big shift came when he was about six or seven and became obsessed with ninjas. All the stories featured ramen shops, gyoza and bowls of noodles, and I realised that food had become part of his imagination. We started making ramen at home, recreating the little trays of udon, vegetables and tofu he’d seen. Once Japanese food felt familiar through stories, it gave him the confidence to try other flavours, too.

Our younger son, Esca, is three, and he’s in his buttered toast and plain pasta era. We offer him a little of whatever we’re eating every night and most evenings he ignores it. I’ve tried not making alternatives, but I spend my life cooking to nourish people. I can’t send my child to bed hungry!

Having two boys at such different ages has made me much more relaxed. I know tastes change because I’ve watched it happen. In the meantime, I look for small wins. Smoothies packed with yoghurt, nut butter and seeds frozen into ice lollies have been a life-saver this summer. I think about protein in small ways, too, adding extra eggs and ground almonds to pancakes.

More than anything, I think children need ownership. Dylan loves tasting recipes I’ve been working on and giving me a verdict, but he’s just as inspired by seeing other children cook. He loves the Buddy Oliver and What’s Cooking Omari? shows on TV, and has been enjoying some of my old childhood recipe books – vintage Jane Asher and Jenny Chandler. It’s become a genuine interest.

Anna Jones is an award-winning food writer, author of four books about vegetarian home cooking.

This is a very long way from authentic ramen and is something I make with staple ingredients that my kids like to eat.

I cook the noodles separately as I find cooking them in the broth does not work. If you are using ready-to-cook noodles you can pop them straight in, though. I often use coconut aminos instead of soy sauce here as it adds umami with less salt; you can buy it from most supermarkets. I use a range of green veg, whatever I have to hand: broccoli, peas, edamame and sugar snaps all seem to go down well. I get extra points if I roast the broccoli.

Serves 2, small(ish) kids and 2 adults

For the quick broth A couple of coins of ginger A bunch of spring onions 1-2 tbsp white miso 1-2 tbsp veg stock powder 1 tsp soy sauce or coconut aminos 200g pack of udon noodles (you can also use ramen noodles or the straight-to-wok, ready-to-eat kind)

For the tofu Oil 400g block of firm tofu, chopped 2 tbsp sesame seeds 1 tbsp maple syrup 1 tbsp soy sauce or coconut aminos 4 big handfuls of green veg (broccoli, greens, sugar snaps, peas, edamame)

To serve (add as desired) Crumbled-up seaweed snacks, gomashio, furikake

Put the ginger and the green tops of the spring onions into a deep pan and add a litre of cold water and bring to boil and simmer for a few minutes. Finely slice the white part of the spring onions.

In a separate pan, cook your noodles in boiling water according to packet instructions then drain and run under cold water. If any of your veg needs cooking (broccoli, frozen peas etc) you can add it for the relevant number of minutes with the noodles. Then drain and cool the lot.

Put a frying pan on the heat, add a little oil and the chopped tofu, and cook for a few minutes until it’s crisp and golden on all edges. Add the sesame seeds and cook for another few minutes until the seeds are toasted, turn off the heat and add the tablespoon of soy or coconut aminos and the tablespoon of maple syrup, and toss in the pan to coat.

Stir the miso and stock into the broth.

Put the noodles into the bottom of four bowls, with enough room for your veg, tofu and broth. Put the broth into a jug and the tofu, vegetables and toppings into little bowls on the table so everyone can help themselves – little ones may need help with the warm broth. Slurp.

Marcie, 5

Weaning was such fun because Marcie ate everything. I probably drove myself mad trying to expose her to as much variety as possible. She’d be having adventurous home-cooked food while we were eating takeaway. Then she started nursery and the fussiness crept in.

I’ve never put pressure on what she has to eat. We decide what goes on the table, but once it’s there it’s up to her. If we give her agency, she’s more likely to try things. We’re quite strict about not making alternatives, though we always make sure there’s something she’ll enjoy. Usually that’s fruit.

I don’t like creating hierarchies around food. I don’t want food to become about rewards and punishments. I’m also not a fan of hiding vegetables. If she doesn’t know she’s eating something, she won’t know it’s something that she likes.

Family dinner isn’t always relaxing. But we still eat together almost every night because it’s an important pause in the day. Our classic meal is a slow‑cooked tomato sauce with lots of garlic, paprika and a little bit of sugar – that can go on pasta but I’ll often serve it with prawns. She’ll also eat tofu in any form – loves the stuff – and corn on the cob, crispy kale and any fish that isn’t breaded, which I serve with homemade chips. We get her involved, too – setting the table or perhaps rolling her own roti, if that’s what we’re having. I think children respond well when you don’t infantilise them. They’ll…

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