Ever since Jessica Seinfeld’s book “Deceptively Delicious” was a hit last year, I’ve been contemplating why people feel the need to hide vegetables in their children's meals. I need to say up front that the idea of hiding vegetables in food has always made me cringe. Although I would like to think my dislike for being "deceptive" is due to my belief that parents should always be honest with their children, I must admit my sensibility as a true vegetable lover is offended as well.

I am also confused as to why this book was such a big hit. I realize that the author is Jerry Seinfeld's wife, and that the exposure she received from her publisher is pretty impressive, but is there more to the story (other than another cookbook author suing both Seinfelds for plagiarism)? My question is: why has the vegetable become persona non grata at the family dinner table?

I can think of many reasons why parents should avoid hiding vegetables in their kids' food. For one thing, if the veggies are hidden, kids have no idea they’re actually eating them. Although this may seem to be the point of masquerading them in the first place, it sets up a scenario where children grow up thinking they can live vegetable-free lives. Okay, maybe not vegetable free entirely, but if vegetables aren't a part of a child's regular daily food consumption, she (or he) won't acquire a taste for them and so won't necessarily want to eat them as an adult. Stealth recipes, as Ms. Seinfeld calls them, can eventually backfire. The trick of pureeing and chopping up vegetables so children don't notice them will only work for so long. At some point, those little smarties will figure it out and when they do, they'll get the message that vegetables are "gross" and inedible, worthy only of being smashed to bits and hidden in meat, pasta or cheese. I realize that many parents themselves aren't vegetables lovers, but instead of throwing in the towel and passing on an aversion to an essential food group, I suggest exploring new and different ways of eating and preparing vegetables with the kids.

With this in mind, here are some suggestions for serving vegetables in an open and honest way with your family. They may not all work for you, but the chances that one or two of these suggestions could make even a small impact is worth a try.

1. Take your children with you to the store or farmer’s market to pick out the vegetables themselves. Show them the variety of vegetables available, as well as the vibrant colors and different textures. When you get home, your kids will be more excited about the vegetables they've chosen for the family dinner table and more likely to eat them.

2. Take your child to the farmer’s market and speak with the farmer or sales person about the vegetables that are currently in season. This will help your children to build a curiosity about where their food comes from.

3. Grow your own vegetables if you have a yard. And, even if you don't, try growing some small container plants like cherry tomatoes or peppers. After growing a vegetable for weeks to months, your child will be excited to get to pick it her or himself and, more importantly, eat it.

Note: Gardening doesn't have to be labor intensive. If you want to spend a lot of time in your yard, you can have a beautiful garden, but this isn't necessary. Just pick a few plants to grow and be sure to water them every couple of days.

4. Ask your child to help you cook. They can help you wash the vegetables, peel them, chop with supervision, and actually do some of the cooking. If your child feels a sense of pride about the meal your family is eating, he or she is more likely to want to eat it.

Idea: One way to do this, now that it's almost Spring, is to buy fresh English peas in the pod and spend time with your kids shelling them. This is a fun hands-on experience that my daughters love. Oh, and be sure to let them taste them raw.

5. Make vegetables fun by purchasing them in a new way.

Idea: Try buying purple potatoes or different colored carrots to spark your child's interest. In the Fall, you can also buy Brussels sprouts on the stalk. When my daughters were about four, they weren't thrilled with sprouts until we bought them this way; but, after an afternoon of plucking them off the stem and then pretending the stem was a scepter, they loved them. I now try to buy the sprouts on the stalk as often as I can. Buying Brussels sprouts has become an event instead of a hated side dish (I don't have a picture of Brussels sprouts on the stem here as they’re not in season, but check out those purple carrots!).

6. Respect that your child will not love every vegetable and allow them to name one or two that they prefer not to eat. Then ask them which vegetables they love and make a point to eat one of them that evening.

7. Try serving some vegetables raw with dip as part of your meal or as a snack. Great vegetables to use are carrots, peppers, cucumbers, snap peas, green beans, broccoli, and fennel.

8. Try cooking vegetables in a different way. Sometimes a child's aversion may be to the texture or preparation of a dish, rather than the vegetable itself.

Idea: Instead of steaming cauliflower, try chopping it up into small florets and roasting it with olive oil and butter topped with some fresh bread crumbs.

9. Serve vegetables every day so they become a natural part of the meal.

10. Be sure to eat your own plate of vegetables in front of your child so they see you enjoying them yourself. In this case, actions really do speak far louder than words.

The pot of chives was waiting for me in Moraga. Little did I know there was an entire afternoon of wonder in store for me when I went to pick it up.

With just his hands, a shovel and a wheelbarrow, 79-year old Ze'ev Vered has shaped seven terraces of gardens and orchards. Trees bearing pistachio, quince and pomegranate push up against the golden hills. A 6-foot cyclone fence that encircles his garden, to deter the insistent deer, has long been covered with the rambling vines of eight different varieties of grapes. The paths between each hand-weeded bed switch back several times, a steep trail that leads from one beautiful, delicious plant to another.

Raised on an Israeli farm and then trained in forestry, Vered landed four decades ago in the Bay Area. He settled into insurance work to help raise his family, but much of his free time was spent building up his garden and cooking -- he handled all the savory food while his wife took care of the sweets. When he retired, Vered finally launched a business that expressed his passion: Herb Gardens by Ze'ev. He specializes in culinary herbs, helping his customers grow unique gardens that reflect their favorite cuisines, from my little chive pot to complex, professionally tended installations.

Vered treated me to a lunch: Salad Caprese with his own sun-warmed tomatoes and a lovely barley soup made from the herb-stuffed carcass of a spit-roasted turkey. After I'd had enough to eat, he walked me slowly through his garden.

Here are some highlights from my amazing tour, sprinkled lightly with Vered's salty jokes and stories:

After many years, Vered has perfected his own secret blend of soil. For example, powdered dolomite lime sweetens the mix to provide the basic pH that culinary herbs prefer.

Whenever his wife and he traveled to Mexico, they'd bring back a few pots. If you find one you like, he'll sell it to you.

Vered sequesters his newly potted plants inside wire cages for a week to protect them from squirrels, who love to dig up the plants. His plants all have well-established root systems, and as soon as you get your herb pot home, you can begin harvesting and cooking.

At one of his lectures, a skeptic kept asking Vered, "Are you sure that your plants are organic?" He answered patiently until the third time, when he couldn't help adding, "Yes, these plants are organic. And not only that, they're orgasmic -- I get a real charge out of growing them!"

Welcoming visitors at the entrance to his herb garden are pots of low-spreading, tiny-leafed Corsican mint.

The herb invites you to caress its velvety surface and then imbues your hand with its fresh, summery perfume. Someday, I'm going to have a garden path with Corsican mint growing in the cracks between stones.

The leaves of this slightly bronzed peppermint has a sharp flavor that lingers long. I could feel its menthol in my sinuses.

Spearmint has a softer, rounder flavor. Growing in this large patch is what Vered calls "Safeway mint."

A much-lauded celebrity chef, who will here remain nameless, needed fresh mint for his cooking show. Vered gets a call from the chef's assistant. "What kind of mint does he need?" Vered asks, referring to the many varieties he grows. A pause on the phone. "You know, the Safeway kind."

Three sages hold court along his retaining wall.

For the first time, I came face to face with a fresh caper. If you don't pick and pickle the small bud, it opens into a beautiful white and pink-tinged blossom.

Recently planted caper bushes that Vered hopes will soon cascade down part of his hillside.

Enough horseradish to feed a small village. Vered likes using its leaves in salads before pulling up their roots and bottling his own sauces.

Mediterranean bay, known as true laurel, has a sweeter, less harsh flavor than California bay. Here, small plants spring up from a potted tree's crown roots.

Tomatoes grow two levels down from his fruit and nut trees. Asked if he shares his fruits and vegetables with his neighbors, Vered says "Back when they used to be nice to me!"

Golden quince with their soft, delicate fuzz.

At the top of one hill, just past the plum and pistachio trees, Vered placed a bench in the shade of grape vines. He can sit and gaze across the valley. I asked him if he sat here with his wife, while she was still alive, and he smiled mischievously. "Oh yes...and sometimes we held hands."

Pistachio nuts just beginning to blush.

Over the next several months, this tiny bud will flower, fruit and ripen into a juicy pomegranate.

Vered grows a rare variety of Asian pear, the only sand pear that resembles its European cousin in shape.

Vered picked some tomatoes and plums for me to take home, and then asked if I wanted to taste some of his green tomato pickles. Uh, yes, I LOVE green tomato pickles!

The tiny, still green cherry tomatoes are tart, a nice pick-me-up after the hot afternoon sun. They're preserved in his own special brine.

To a colleague who asks for the recipe to his kosher dill pickles: "Well, first you cut the tip off each little cucumber...."

Herb Gardens by Ze'ev
Ze'ev Vered, M.S.
(510) 631-0199 (925)631-0199
P.O. Box 6486
Moraga, CA 94570

Strike one more vegetable off my, "I really, really, REALLY need to learn how to like this repellent green thing" list. Okra, oh delicious, mysterious, oddly viscous, okra -- so long have you been out of my reach, beyond my culinary ken. I've had you fried, steamed, and gumbo'd, but still, you did not convince me of your deliciousness.

Catherine did.

Even more amazing than my about-face on this newly in season veggie is how simple her recipe is; just slice the fuzzy hexagons and saute. Nothing fancy. When I saw Catherine pull her okra out of the fridge -- already sliced -- I interrogated her. "Is that necessary? A sort of resting in the fridge to dry out the slime before cooking? It makes it crispier?" She looked at me. "No, it was just easier to have them sliced before you came over." Oh.

Just tonight, I tried to replicate Catherine's easier than easy recipe. Sensing the sizzle-pop was over and delicious okra was soon to follow, my husband wandered into the kitchen and found me staring at my pile of okra. "I don't think I did it right. It looks overcooked." I reached out and sadly plucked a slice out of the green mound and sampled it. It definitely wasn't as crispy as Catherine's. My husband plucked out a slice of his own. "It's great!" he assured me. The perfectionist in me didn't believe him. But I plucked out another slice. And another. And another.

Without any utensils or even sitting down, the two of us consumed the entire mass of salty okra in about two minutes. I will not stop in my quest to get my okra Catherine-perfect, but it does appear that even the less than perfect stuff is furiously addicting.

I'm not worried. I have all summer to figure it out.