What's for dinner?

Like all parents, R and I are watching E as she develops to see which of our traits, passions, habits and features she picks up on and makes her own.

As a non-biological parent, I am rooting for nurture over nature. I haven't shaped her genes, but I can shape the person she becomes as she finds her place in the world.

But already it seems that there's one thing that E hasn't inherited from me - and that's an enthusiasm for eating.

She will eat. Sometimes. A little. And every and now again she will astonish us by polishing off a whole pot of yoghurt, an entire egg, a punnet of raspberries. But most meals resemble the Very Hungry Caterpillar's Saturday feast - a bite of cheese, a bite of sausage, a bite of cake and so on.

Today, R has left me looking after E with instructions to make sure she has plenty of protein ('that's eggs, meat, quorn, fish...' she helpfully explains in case I forget what protein is) and plenty of carbohydrates ('that's rice, pasta -' I cut her off, reminding her I can cope and anyway it's me who usually does the cooking whenever we have guests).

After all, if the worst comes to the worst, I can always turn to Annabel.

Annabel Karmel, the Nigella of the 0-1s. Better known in our household as Annabel Caramel, a name which suits this gourmet goddess with her straight honey-coloured hair, perfect grooming and trim figure.

If you've got a baby, you've got her book. When you hear one mother say to another 'Have you done her salmon and chives yet? It's divine' you know she is talking about Annabel.

Disappointingly on Annabel's website there are very few pictures of her spooning individual shepherd's pies into the mouths of toddlers wearing cashmere cardigans and NO BIBS. These are a particularly enjoyable feature of her book.

It's the no bibs that I find especially shocking. Even after wearing a bib, our baby constantly looks like we have dipped her in food, making it easy to identify what was on the menu that day simply by examining her trousers. Not wearing a bib at all is truly Extreme Dining in my view.

It's true we have a love/hate relationship with Annabel. Thanks to her we have eaten some pretty delicious meals, as well as the optimistically and inaccurately titled 'tasty liver casserole'.

But we have learned to take her advice with a pinch of salt (no, no, not literally, we are not feeding salt to our child, don't send in the baby police) since I got up early one Sunday to make individual rolled pancakes from scratch.

E took one look at them, held one delicately between her thumb and forefinger and then dropped it straight on the floor.

I, on the other hand, scoffed the lot. Well, I figure if she is going to eventually inherit my enthuasism for eating, it will be all thanks to my setting her a good example.