Jobs like chopping onions get easier the more you practice... Just like everything in life.

One of the joys of teaching kids to cook is that you can never predict what they're going to enjoy. And I don't just mean what food they'll like.

Some kids love to cut with the big chef's knife, others are afraid of it. Some love to do the dishes and croon while they swish in the soapy sink, some find any reason in the world to get out of that job. Some fear the unknown, others love a challenge, the chance to conquer something new.

For our fourth healthy cooking class at Prince Hall Elementary School in West Oak Lane, we were making beef stew, with an appetizer of raw vegetables and dip. A fair amount of chopping was required. And several of the kids had learned chopping onions was not for the faint of heart.

"I can't do it," said Alia Miles.

Same with Jordan Francis: "It hurts my eyes."

"Some parts of cooking are not easy," I said. "But the onions have to be chopped."

Onion vapors do affect some worse than others, but the lesson here was that some jobs you just have to get through. Without hesitation, two volunteers stepped up.

"I'll do it," said Samir Norris.

"I want to do it," said Anasty Feliciano.

"Good for you!" I said.

Even though Samir's eyes were immediately watering, and even though Anasty had not mastered the technique of making a claw with her fingers so as not to nip them with the blade, they pressed on and the onions got chopped.

"You two did a nice job!" I said. "Most jobs get easier the more you practice," I said. "Just like in life."

Timing is always a challenge when getting a meal on the table. For this stew, the beef had to cook for a good 30 minutes, and the onions had to be sautéed first, so our first task was to get the onions simmering. Samir was happy to stir the pot while Anasty and Jordan cut up the beef.

Jordan had become the master of his knife and was slicing cubes of meat quite impressively, but Anasty was having a hard time getting the knife to work for her.

"You have to start with the tip of the knife against the cutting board, and glide it through like you are ice skating," I told her. "You have to get the feel of it."

With two pounds of London broil to cut, we had plenty of practice. After we did a few cuts together, she was insisting on doing it herself. And she had pretty much gotten the hang of it.

"Those cubes of beef look pretty darn good," I told her as she beamed.

With the onions now soft, the beef could be added to the pot, as Samir continued to stir.

"My great grandmom used to have a restaurant in Jamaica, and she made beef stew," he said. "Hers had peppers, tomatoes, and some spices," he said.

"Maybe we can get her recipe," I said.

"My mom is Jamaican, too!" Jordan put in. "I love her jerk chicken."

While the beef was browning, we still had more chopping to do, but Alia had given us a good start. Even though onions were not her thing, she was quite an expert with carrots. While the others handled the onions and the meat, Alia had washed and peeled and chopped an entire bag of carrots - half into coins for the stew, half into sticks for our appetizer of raw vegetables and dip.

Next, I wanted the kids to learn how to make a healthier version of ranch, America's most popular dip, by mixing plain yogurt with a little mayonnaise and a few spices, and without the long list of artificial ingredients in bottled versions. We had to get it in the fridge next, because it would taste much better if the flavors had a chance to blend.

Meanwhile, the potatoes were cubed, the celery was sliced into sticks, and Alia was skillfully moving on to the peppers. But she had no interest in eating them, even after learning red peppers are much sweeter than green ones. She agreed to a bite, but it didn't change her mind.

The potatoes, carrots, and stock were added to the stew, and, as it cooked, Alia checked the chore chart for assignments. Jordan was on dish duty, and he settled in at the sink, singing Michael Jackson selections. Samir's job was setting the table, and he immediately looked for the tablecloth. Our first week, the kids asked why we needed the cloth. Now, Samir did not want to set down a plate without it.

Soon, the stew was ready and it was served along with the dip and veggies.

And the kids were impressed with their own work.

"It's so good," said Jordan. "Is there more?"

"This really does taste like ranch," said Anasty.

As we ate, I asked whether anyone had tried any recipes at home. And the responses filled my heart with hope. Alia had made the sloppy joes and the pickled cucumbers. Samir and Anasty had made the banana Dutch baby.

Though Jordan had not yet cooked at home, he had an excuse. He was holding out for our last recipe of the season, which is always a dessert: "I'm waiting for the strawberry shortcake," he said.

mfitzgerald@phillynews.com

www.philly.com/mydaughter

The mission. To teach schoolchildren to cook healthy, easy meals on a budget.

The reach. Sixty-two volunteers are teaching 31 classes in Philadelphia, Camden, and Norristown with intent to expand.

The partner. Vetri Community Partnership shares the goal of encouraging healthy eating for children.

To support. Send donations to Vetri Community Partnership, 211 N. 13th St., Suite 303, Philadelphia 19107; note "My Daughter's Kitchen" or go to www.vetrifoundation.org.

To participate. Submit recipes to be considered: Simple, 500-calorie, nutritious meals, prepared in under an hour, for $20 or less for six servings. Send recipes to Food@philly.com.