Chefs, Restaurateurs and Cookbook Authors Cook Vegetables With Their Children The chef Marco Moreira and his daughter, Francesca, cooking polenta and fresh tomato sauce. ONE of Francesca Moreira's first words was "otto," short for risotto. And it was fitting: Francesca is the daughter of Marco Moreira, the executive chef and a partner at Tocqueville and 15 East, and Jo-Ann Makovitzky, his wife and partner. Francesca used a knife to peel away the skin and cut each tomato in half, then squeezed out the seeds. Mr. Moreira and Francesca took turns stirring the polenta. While her father made the polenta, Francesca set the table. When the two share the kitchen, Mr. Moreira takes care to remind his daughter that cooking is a pleasure. His mantra for her: "Take your time, don't get frustrated, just enjoy and have fun." Now 10, Francesca has knife skills and knows how to make cappuccinos on an espresso machine. She keeps her workstation clean. In February, she made her first pan-grilled salmon, and the skin was nicely crisp. Chefs try to inspire in their children a love of food, teaching them the joys of a summer-ripe tomato, an ear of corn, a spring roll with fresh herbs. But they don't just feed their young; they also cook with them, an act of relaxation, learning and intimacy. It's love over a stove. Little fingers can seed tomatoes, shuck corn and pick herbs off stems. But children don't necessarily like to eat the vegetables they just fiddled with. Their parents, especially if they are chefs, appreciate not just the healthfulness of vegetables but also their extraordinary range of flavors and possibilities. These adults don't try to sneak in the vegetables. Instead, they make simple tasty dishes that showcase the produce. One such dish is the polenta with fresh tomato sauce that Francesca made with her father one recent evening. She cooks with both parents, but her father is more adventurous, she said, although "sometimes he goes overboard with things." She raised her voice a bit, so he could hear her in the next room. On Friday he made pasta, but way too much garlic. He began the polenta by asking his daughter to core the tomatoes, which he had placed in boiling water and then shocked in ice water. He also prepared the chopping board for her, wetting a paper towel and placing it on the counter under the board, which prevents it from slipping. Mr. Moreira took over, chopping the tomatoes, slicing the garlic, heating the olive oil and starting the sauce. She also grated a hunk of Parmesan, to be stirred into the polenta. As she was nearing the end, she said firmly, "I don't want to grate cheese for the rest of my life." Francesca set the table while her father made the polenta. Sometimes he stirred, sometimes she did. By the time Mr. Moreira finished off the polenta with the cheese, Francesca was hungry. She likes eating her own cooking, she said. You feel good about yourself. As a devotee of polenta, she was true to her word. She ate three helpings. Elaine Louie's Sprouts column - in which chefs, restaurateurs, cookbook authors and their children cook vegetables - will run monthly. Recipes will suggest how children can participate, under an adult's careful eye and with attention to the child's age and skill level.