It is a well-established fact that when you want a child to eat, they will not. I did not always know this. Before I became a parent, I labored under the misconception that the rules would not apply to me. That a child’s refusal of perfectly good, perfectly healthy food reflects some deficit in child-rearing, and naturally would not be a problem for me, a professional food writer, whose love of food is in fact genetic. No, I reasoned with woefully unearned confidence, my child’s palate would be as expansive as the Great Plains. As vibrant as a Van Gogh. As thoughtful as a sonnet. Well. When my daughter was three, she unexpectedly became a viral internet sensation after a noted social media personality spotted her ham-fisting a pickle at the farmers market, devouring it in the manner of an ice cream cone. The comments cooed what a good eater she was, that “Pickle Girl” was their “spirit animal,” and so forth. Lies! I screamed in my head. All lies!…