Try this, you might like it

How many parents don't worry about the way their children eat? In his three and a half years on this planet, my step-son Ben has never knowingly allowed fruit or veg to pass his lips. He lives on milk, frosted cornflakes, fish fingers, chicken nuggets, sausages, chips, crackers, bread and butter, ham and tinned tomato soup. He drinks milk, juice or Ribena.

How many parents don't worry about the way their children eat? In his three and a half years on this planet, my step-son Ben has never knowingly allowed fruit or veg to pass his lips. He lives on milk, frosted cornflakes, fish fingers, chicken nuggets, sausages, chips, crackers, bread and butter, ham and tinned tomato soup. He drinks milk, juice or Ribena.

Ben did not have a good start. His mother died when she was 25 weeks pregnant and Ben spent his first four months in hospital. When he came home he was pitifully small and struggled to gain weight. He was weaned by a succession of nannies who tried their best but inevitably resorted to whatever they could get down him that would help him put weight on. It was his health visitor, after all, who suggested Quavers.

Now he is looked after by his dad, myself, and his childminder, Irene. His dad and I used to be tough, letting him go hungry if he threw a strop over food, but we have relaxed. We don't want food to be an issue and we vaguely hoped he would grow out of it. So far he hasn't. And now we need help.

Child-care expert Gina Ford agreed (along with Paul Sacher, a dietician at Great Ormond Street Hospital and her writing partner on her latest book, The Contented Child's Food Bible) to coach us. Best known for her no-nonsense style, parents love or hate Gina's most famous work, The Contented Little Baby Book.

Gina is horrified by Ben's diet but confident she can help. First, we are to cut out his nightly bottle of milk. Second, no drinks except water. I am not to tell Ben what is happening but tomorrow morning I will give him fruit for breakfast. If he doesn't want it I am to tell him there is nothing else. Lunch and dinner should be vegetable based. The idea is that once he is hungry enough he will crack. She thinks he will hold out for two, maybe three days but no longer. "They never let themselves starve," she reassures me.

Most important is the psychological front, for this, insists Gina, is a psychological battle. Ben is tyrannising us because he has always got attention on this issue. We must neither scold nor cajole and if Ben gets cross or upset, say, "Well it's up to you, but this is all that is available." Triumphs should be applauded and mealtimes should last no longer than 20 minutes. And we must be firm. I tell her that we are and she says, "How did you let this happen then?"

I feel I am the one getting the carrot and stick treatment. She confirms that it is the parents who need the training. Here's how it went...

Saturday

Ben is horrified to be greeted with fruit. I tell him we have run out of Ribena and cornflakes and he storms out crying. He declines lunch (pasta and vegetable sauce) and tea (chicken casserole) with bad grace. Gina allows a couple of glasses of milk before bed in case of dehydration.

Sunday

Ben eats no breakfast or lunch, but does drink water. After 10 minutes in the park he wants to come home, where he lies around listlessly. Around 3pm he vomits water. I ring Gina, who contacts Paul. He says not to worry and that if we cave in now that will be that. It is inconceivable that we would have continued past this point without this reassurance. This is not a regime for the timid. Ben cries quietly on my knee throughout tea (tinned vegetable soup), but just as we are about to give up he picks up his spoon and - miracle! - he eats.

Monday

I hand Ben over to Irene, who is game but already anxious. There is something about the combination of Ben's slender frame and semi-orphan status that turns carers to a chocolate-dispensing jelly. She tries shepherd's pie and veg for lunch. He refuses, but he has soup for tea.

Tuesday

Breakthrough - I discover an ancient pot of baby fruit compote in the cupboard. Ben gobbles it down for breakfast. Irene is red-eyed - she hasn't slept for worrying. I remind her what Gina said about not showing concern but we still discuss Ben's eating as we pass him between us, which I know is sending the wrong message.

Thursday

Irene turns! She suddenly sees Ben's mealtime tears as manipulative and sends him to cry in the hall. He admits defeat and eats mince, potato, peas and carrots for lunch. Irene is amazed - she confesses she never thought it could work.

Week 2

Ben is now eating baby fruit compote and yoghurt for breakfast, mashed potato and mince or fish and peas, carrots, corn and courgettes for lunch (hand-fed) and vegetable soup and a ham sandwich for tea. The next step is to get him to eat "real" fruit and to feed himself at lunchtime.

He has lost weight. I send him to Irene's with his trousers tied up with string and she nearly has a nervous breakdown. Gina ticks me off for promoting the poor little waif image that she thinks is behind the problem. She has kept his menu frugal so he is hungry but now we can start to get his weight up. If he eats fruit at breakfast and vegetables at lunch he can have all the fattening foods for tea that he can eat.

There are two wonderful side-effects. First, Ben is much happier. He is enjoying having clear rules, and he's relishing his triumphs. Cutting back on the additives is also helping his mood. Gina says he's been through a detox.

He is also open to all sorts of food he would never have touched before. He eats fish off his father's plate, baked potato off mine. He spots another child eating hummus and polishes off a tub. He has his first ever boiled egg. After years of watching him dip chicken nuggets in ketchup, this brings tears to my eyes.

Week 3

Life is settling into a system of bartering. If Ben eats A he can have B. He is starting to eat much more and Gina suggests we create a book of Ben's favourite healthy foods so he can choose from these. We also make a star chart - Ben is working towards a Nemo video. But it is not all good news. Ben was potty training when we started this programme and he is slipping back. Am I imagining the look of defiant triumph as he tells me he has pooed in his trainer pants? Is this some sort of passive-aggressive sliproad?

Week 4

Following a picnic at nursery where Ben gorges on crisps, cake, cola and chocolate, he refuses his new "normal" diet for two days. This is so depressing - will we never be able to give him an inch? In other ways too it feels as though we are not moving forwards. Ben still makes a big fuss about eating veg and takes an hour to clear his plate. He still refuses all fruit except bananas.

Week 5

I am starting to relate to a common complaint about Gina - that her techniques are too routinised. There is no hope of getting Ben to eat veg in the evening when he is tired, which means we always have to be home for lunch. He won't eat pasta with vegetable sauce, casseroles or home-made soups. I also worry there is a rebellion pending. Some days Ben chooses to go hungry, and on a couple of occasions he has been openly defiant. Mealtimes are a struggle.

On the other hand I have to keep in mind the gains we have made. His diet is healthier, he is eating fruit and veg routinely for the first time, plus we are in control. And if he grows up thinking he has to eat his greens before he can get the yummy bits? Well so do I, aged 38.

Gina Ford and Paul Sacher's latest book, 'The Contented Child's Food Bible' (Vermilion, £9.99), is available for the special price of £8.99 (including p&p). To order, call 08700 113 369, or send a cheque to EFC Bookshop, PO Box 200, Falmouth TR11 4WJ, and quote 'Independent'