Maybe spinach isn't the first thing that comes to mind when I say “What do you want on your nachos?” But Sammy, my 15-month-old, loves the green stuff, so I keep it handy. In fact, my freezer is packed with it.

Thaw a bag of frozen spinach and whir it up in the food processor with cottage cheese, I can keep the kid happy and hunger at bay for days at a time.

In a pinch, I can add a little of Sammy’s strong-to-the-finish spinach-and-cheese mix to a jar of marinara, pour it over noodles and feed the grown-ups as well. This winter, I found myself tossing handfuls of thawed spinach in whatever soup I happened to be cooking, too.

So it seemed natural to sprinkle some on the platter of tortilla chips and grated Jack cheese I was whipping up to share with a friend who had come over for a late-night (read after 8 p.m.) movie. “I guess we’re eating whatever Sam’s having, huh?” she teased.

I felt a little sheepish about serving What I’ve Got On Hand Nachos instead of having run out and grabbed a wedge of brie and a baguette, but I shook it off. It wasn’t until after she’d left that I began to think about how much feeding Sammy has changed me as a cook.

Sammy’s birth defect, TE fistula, left him with an esophagus that narrows in the middle, which means I have to be ultra careful about what he swallows. He didn’t start eating table food until he was 10 months old, in part because we were terrified of giving him any. It didn’t help that shortly after he started, table food sent us to the ER.

One evening after he had finished his bowl of pureed sweet potatoes, I was letting him mooch chickpeas from my dish. I split them in half with my fork, peeled off the skins and put a few on his high chair tray. He smiled and gobbled them up like they were chocolate chips. It was so cool to see him eating so enthusiastically, and to actually be sharing food with him, that I let him have a few too many. One got caught in his throat’s narrowing, which pressed against his windpipe, which caused respiratory distress. Eventually, the ER docs and nurses freed the stubborn bean, but it was no easy night for my little boy.

At that point, I made a mental note: We’ll eat what he’s eating, not the other way around.

So, this winter, I got really excited about hard squashes, baking and pureeing butternuts like they were about to be as scarce as rice. Sam loved them, as did his vegetarian-leaning aunt. And because my pantry is always stocked with the sweet potatoes that I puree for Sammy, those found their way into a hearty, sweet potato, chicken and kale soup that I stirred up one Friday for guests arriving late.

Finally, spring arrived, and brought with it strawberries to the farmers market. The kid cannot get enough. I slice them into small squares and sprinkle them on his tray. He shovels them by red handfuls into his mouth, dribbling sweet berry juice all over the tray, his bib, his pants, anything within dribbling distance. Meanwhile I bite them whole, leaving just the green tops in my fingers. We smile at each other, and I think, “This guy really knows how to eat.”

I recently interviewed food author and world-class cook Patricia Wells and her husband Walter Wells about their joint memoir, “We’ve Always Had Paris … And Provence,” in front of a crowd at Quail Ridge Books in Raleigh. In the book, Patricia writes about how living in their home in the French countryside, surrounded by produce growing on her land and attuned to the seasons, changed her as cook. “Naturally and un-self-consciously I began to develop a style of cooking that I could call my own.” I didn’t get to ask her about that, though I wanted to hear more. Alas, there’s little chance of my cooking being shaped by the rhythms of Provence.

But I am quite happy to find that my cooking has already been shaped by the rhythms of Sam - yet another joy of motherhood I didn’t see coming.

Every Wednesday, moms write about what they're eating and what their kids are eating on TriangleMom2Mom.

Check out our other daily themes at TriangleMom2Mom:

MONDAY: Meet!
TUESDAY: Ask!
WEDNESDAY: Eat!
THURSDAY: Play!
FRIDAY: Out!

WEEKEND: Relax!