How the Words We Use Shape Our Kids' Relationship With Food (And Themselves)

A senior girl in my class said "No, stop" while nervously laughing. I asked if she'd thought about how laughter might send a different message than saying no.

After 30 years teaching cooking to 50,000+ students, I've learned that language - not just words, but tone and energy - shapes everything. 

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Language is powerful - not just the words themselves, but how we use them, our tone, and how often they get misunderstood. This matters deeply around food.

Language has always fascinated me - not just the words themselves, but how we use them, our tone, how they land, and how often they get misunderstood.

My first year teaching high school, I had a moment that stuck with me. A senior girl told a boy, “No, stop,” while nervously laughing and smiling.

Something small, something innocent. But I asked, “Have you thought about how laughter might send a different message than saying no, stop?” She wasn’t entirely sure what I meant. But after a thoughtful conversation, she and others realized that when we speak, the power often comes not just from what we say, but how we say it.

Clarity Is Care

That memory comes back to me frequently. Not because of what was said, but because of the gap between intent and perception. Words matter, but so does tone, so does energy. When they don’t match, people get confused. Sometimes it’s harmless. Sometimes it isn’t. Either way, clarity is a form of care.

Words That Make Us Pause

I’ve been thinking about this again as I step into a new project with a bold name: TART AF. (This space remains the same and it’s separate from Nourish and Gather.)

The words TART AF can make people stop. They can feel too much. And I get it - it’s not for everyone. To some, that abbreviation is brash - the implication heavy. To others, it’s a cheeky nod to my tagline: Always Fun, Always Fabulous.

Words carry power and create reactions. They can draw people in or push them away. And that’s okay.

This awareness about language shows up constantly in my kitchen, too. When a student wrinkles their nose and says “that’s disgusting” about a dish they haven’t even tried - especially cultural foods - I pause the class. “You haven’t tasted it yet,” I’ll say. “Do you really mean disgusting? Or do you mean unfamiliar? Different from what you’re used to?”

It might seem like a small correction, but words like “disgusting” can shut down curiosity and disrespect entire cultures. When we get more precise - like “I’m nervous to try this” or “this looks different from what I’m used to” - suddenly there’s room for growth, for questions, for connection. This experience is actually what inspired my upcoming Kitchen Passport series.

The Work of a Teacher

There are people in this world who are meant to make others pause, to ask questions, to think differently. That is the work of a teacher and that is my work. Not to hand over all the answers, but to open the door to a bigger picture. To spark a shift, a conversation. To leave someone changed. Language is one of the most powerful ways we do that.

An Invitation

Language can nourish us, or it can divide us. It can build bridges, or it can build walls. But it always matters.

This week, notice the words you choose. Notice when your voice and your body align and when they don’t. Notice what happens when you allow yourself to be fully you - and fully clear - with others.

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