The Prompt Pantry

Category: AI

One Tablespoon In, Twenty-Three to Go
For those who may have missed my blog post Meal Plan Mayhem: Recipes, Reminders, and a Big Jar of Tahini , let me catch you up.

It started with a meal plan. A well-meaning, overly ambitious, totally Pinterest-board-worthy meal plan that promised five nights of dinner magic. One of those meals called for a tablespoon of tahini. And because I was riding high on optimism and possibly a little hungry while grocery shopping, I ended up with a 24 oz jar of it.

For those doing the math at home:
1 tablespoon = 0.5 oz
Which means I had 23.5 ounces of sesame paste staring at me every time I opened the fridge, mocking me with its smug, oily grin.

Clearly, I had two choices:
1. Accept that this would now be my emotional support condiment.
2. Figure out how to use it in literally anything other than hummus (or, let’s be honest, in addition to hummus).
When Life Hands You Lemons… and a Bucket of Tahini

First up, I asked AI for a lemon-tahini chicken marinade. Because that sounded like something a person with a vat of tahini might do. I had chicken, I had lemons, I had a dream. The first version came back thick enough to spackle drywall — delicious, but not exactly marinade material. I had to thin it out with water or oil. Also? Salty. Like, why is this so salty? salty.

I went back to the drawing board — or rather, back to the chat — and said, “Hey AI, this is way too thick, what gives?” AI, bless its helpful little code-heart (if you’re from the South, you’ll understand my meaning), suggested thinning with water or lemon juice and balancing the salt with a little maple syrup. It worked. I had a marinade. And it was actually good.

Now, have I used this marinade on every piece of protein in my fridge? Yes.
Had I still only used maybe two more tablespoons of tahini? Also yes.

Beyond Basic Hummus

Next idea: hummus. I know, I know. It’s the obvious tahini solution. But I wasn’t about to go basic on this one. If I was going to dip into this jar again (literally and emotionally), it had to feel fun. So I asked AI for some variations: it gave me roasted red pepper, spicy jalapeño, lemon garlic, herb… even beet hummus, which I politely declined because it sounds like something a woodland fairy eats.

I landed on roasted red pepper hummus and — spoiler alert — it was delicious. Smooth, rich, and just enough bite to make it feel like an upgrade from the store-bought stuff. Even better, I used it in a Mediterranean-themed dinner that included:
- Grilled lemon-herb chicken thighs
- Quinoa with roasted veggies
- And yes, another two tablespoons of tahini
We were making progress. Slowly. Like, teaspoon-at-a-time kind of progress.

A New Culinary Era (or: How Tahini Took Over Our Life)

We’ve officially entered the “put tahini in everything” phase of our lives. Not because we’re trying to be trendy, but because the jar expires in 2 months. And, surprisingly, it’s working. The more we cook this way, the more we’re falling in love with the Mediterranean food vibe — so much so that we’ve begun casually daydreaming about running off to a remote Greek island, eating hummus and olives on a breezy veranda, and living the feta-fueled fantasy.

Realistically, we’re still here, still in the kitchen, still trying to use up the jar. But at least now there’s a theme.

I’ve added tahini to:
- Salad dressings (good!)
- Veggie dips (fine!)
- A chicken marinade that’s really good( when it’s not pasty and salty)
The takeaway? Tahini is shockingly versatile… when you’re desperate.
And AI? Surprisingly helpful — once you figure out how to ask the right questions like:
- “How do I thin this before I glue my chicken to the pan?”
- “Is this supposed to taste like sesame salt paste or am I doing it wrong?”
- “What can I make with tahini that won’t make my family mutiny?”
Final Thoughts: Is There a Support Group for This?

I’m not mad about the tahini anymore. I’ve embraced it. I’ve bonded with it. It’s a character in my kitchen now — just me, my cutting board, and a jar that refuses to empty.

And thanks to AI, what started as a condiment crisis has turned into an adventure in flavor, creativity, and asking a lot of follow-up questions. If you’ve ever found yourself holding an ingredient and thinking, what in the world do I do with this now, just know: you’re not alone. And with the right prompt, dinner might just surprise you.

Unless it’s beet hummus. You’re on your own with that one.

If you’ve got a great recipe that uses Tahini, I’m all ears, please leave it in the comments or send me an email!
July 5, 2025
Meal Plan Mayhem: Recipes, Reminders, and a Big Jar of Tahini

So there I was, holding a beautifully formatted PDF with five dinner recipes that actually sounded good and doable. AI had not only generated a full meal plan, it had packaged it like a digital meal subscription box—minus the cardboard and the weird ice packs.

I was riding high on optimism.

The meal list was tailored to everything I asked for: gluten-free, summer-friendly, red-meat-free, mostly clean, with a couple of vegetarian nights and black beans I promised to cook from scratch (of course I did). Each recipe came with estimated cooking time, clear instructions, and ingredient lists that mostly made sense. I was ready.

Then I asked for a grocery list.

And AI delivered.

It gave me a master grocery list organized by food category—produce, dairy, pantry, etc.—with quantities and clear labels for which ingredients were used in which recipes. It even asked if I’d prefer it in a bullet-point format or a spreadsheet-style table. Fancy, right?

That’s when I got bold and said, “Hey, could you help me get this into my Apple Reminders Grocery List?”

Now listen, it tried. It really did. We went through multiple formats, I tried copying and pasting, adjusting spacing, turning it into checklist items. At one point I was elbow-deep in Settings menus I didn’t even know existed. In the end, let’s just say it didn’t not work… but it also definitely didn’t work. Apple Reminders and I are still not speaking and I was temporarily disgusted with my new AI kitchen buddy.

My Kitchen, My Battlefield

Armed with my recipes and grocery list (that I ended up manually entering on my Apple Grocery List), I set out to conquer the week.

But what started as hopeful enthusiasm turned into what I can only describe as a slow unraveling of domestic confidence.

First, I realized I had skimmed over some quantities while shopping and ended up short on a few vegetables. Or, maybe AI miscounted the peppers needed, not pointing any fingers, but double check your amounts.

Second, as discussed in my previous post, I discovered I had apparently committed to five dinners I’d never made before, all in the same week, after working full days. This might seem like the sort of decision one makes with energy—not thinking about the energy it would take to execute. Lesson learned: spread the new meals out.

But credit where it’s due: AI showed up every time I had a question. How do I roast an eggplant? It walked me through it. What’s the best temperature for grilling vegetables? Done.

And when I noticed that the turkey patties recipe didn’t call for any breadcrumbs? The pupil became the teacher. I knew that ground turkey without a binder is a sticky mess waiting to happen. So I pushed back—nicely—and AI adjusted. Consider this your reminder that just because something comes from a computer doesn’t mean you should ignore your own kitchen instincts.

It was like having a helpful kitchen companion who never got annoyed with my questions, never forgot an ingredient, and never said, “Didn’t we go over this already?”

And Then There Was Tahini

Here’s the thing no one tells you about diving into adventurous meal planning: you might end up with ingredients you’re not quite ready for. I am now the proud owner of a 24 ounce jar of tahini. I used one tablespoon. One. (Coming soon to this blog: 100 Unexpected Ways to Use Tahini That Aren’t Hummus.)

The experience wasn’t perfect, but it was empowering. I learned how to better communicate what I need, how to adjust when things go sideways, and how even a failed Apple Reminders sync isn’t the end of the world.

June 20, 2025
Five Nights, Zero Repeats: The AI Meal Plan That Almost Broke Me
Remember when I said I was tired of trying to figure out what to make for dinner every night? Yeah. Me too. That version of me had no idea what she was about to get herself into when she decided to see if AI could come up with a meal plan.

Once again, my AI-loving better half chimed in—this time after reading an article about someone who used AI to create not just a meal plan, but an entire grocery list. He looked at me and said, “You should give that a try.” In my head, I was thinking, Sheesh, how about they come cook it for me too?

At first glance, it seemed like a dream: no thinking required, no endless Pinterest scrolling, no falling back on the same three meals I rotate through like a culinary Groundhog Day. I figured I’d just say, “Hey AI, make me a healthy dinner plan!” and boom—magic.

Oh sweet, naive, past me.

The Prompt Heard ‘Round the Kitchen

I started with a simple enough request: five healthy dinners that met all the quirks and preferences of our family. To recap, we’re a gluten-free, organic-leaning, clean-eating household that avoids red meat and processed food like it’s the office microwave after someone reheats fish.

Naturally, the AI came out swinging. It suggested things like a quinoa-stuffed bell pepper (love it), grilled lemon-herb chicken with roasted veggies (yes, please), and a chickpea & spinach curry with rice (Uhm, no, no curry please). Most everything sounded Pinterest-worthy… but there was just one issue: I had questions.

The Feedback Loop That Became My Life

The meal ideas were good—almost too good. But I quickly realized that for this to actually work, I had to get a little more specific. Like:
- How long do these meals take?
- Is this portion size going to feed my adult-sized household?
- Can I bake these meatballs instead of pan-frying them because, hi, it’s summer in Arizona and turning on the stovetop feels like opening a portal to the sun?
And then there were the moments AI got things… let’s say optimistically wrong.

“Sure, you can roast those veggies in 10 minutes at 375°!”

Can I though? Can I really? (Spoiler: no.)

Or when a recipe for four magically became a meal for two. AI, honey, we are not rabbits delicately nibbling lettuce leaves in the garden. Give me a real portion.

But every time I asked a follow-up question or poked a hole in the logic, AI came back with adjustments, corrections, or alternatives that actually worked. Sometimes, all it took was a clearer prompt: “Can I make this in the oven instead?” or “Give me a summer-friendly version of this meal.”

The more I engaged, the more helpful it got.
When the Plan Becomes Real (and Slightly Terrifying)

Eventually, I had five full recipes that sounded amazing, were properly portioned, wouldn’t take 3 hours and could be cooked without me melting into the floor. The problem? I now had to cook all five of them. From scratch. After working all day. With ingredients I’d never used. In a week.

Cue anxiety.

I don’t know what I was thinking, really. Cooking one new recipe is a fun challenge. Cooking five back-to-back is a stress test. There’s the mental load of timing everything, the pressure of presenting something edible, and the looming possibility of the family taking one bite and reaching for cereal instead.

And yet—somehow—it worked. Not flawlessly, but successfully. And I learned that:

AI can build a solid, personalized meal plan—but only if you communicate clearly and ask the right questions.

It’s okay to revise, adapt, and push back. Treat it like your friendly, slightly overeager sous chef.

Next time, maybe space out the new meals a bit instead of pretending you’re auditioning for Top Chef: Overworked Edition.
The Takeaway (No, Not the Takeout)

Would I do it again? Probably. But with tweaks. Maybe one or two new meals a week, mixed with my own tried-and-true favorites. And maybe give myself a pep talk before diving in.

But I’ve realized something important: AI isn’t just good for quick answers or resume edits. It’s incredibly helpful for people like me—people juggling dietary needs, tired taste buds, and decision fatigue. When you know how to use it (and aren’t afraid to push back), it becomes less of a robot and more of a kitchen buddy with a surprisingly decent grasp on garlic.

Next Up: Let’s talk grocery lists—because yes, AI made one of those too. I’ll share how it went from helpful to how did I end up with this large bottle of tahini and a quinoa supply worthy of a survival bunker? Plus, how I made it through all five meals without a single frozen veggie stir fry fallback. (Barely.)

Pantry Prompt

Not sure how to start a chat with AI about creating a meal plan? Here’s what I used as my first prompt:

What are you able to do in regards to weekly meal planning, creating the recipes needed and grocery lists for the week?

That was it, AI took it from there and the conversation started. Give it a try! But if you’re anything like me, maybe start with two or three meals.
June 16, 2025
Remix the Recipe: Baking Boldly with a Bot
How I turned a trusted muffin recipe into something brand new—with a little help from AI.

At this point in my AI cooking adventure, I’d graduated from timid prompting to full-on culinary co-creation. I wasn’t just asking what to make—I was saying, “Here’s what I already make. Let’s remix it.”

I had a solid muffin recipe. It was my go-to. But like anything you make over and over again, it started to feel… stale. (Figuratively. The actual muffins were still moist and lovely.)

So I decided to shake things up—with some help from my recipe brainstorming assistant who never sleeps: AI.

Same Framework, New Flavor

I had a tried-and-true morning glory muffin recipe I’d used for ages. But then I found myself in that classic summer trap: the pick-your-own orchard spiral.

You know the one.
You show up thinking you’ll grab a few peaches and leave with a literal half-bushel because “they were so ripe!” and “the five I ate while picking were so good I couldn’t stop” and suddenly every single thing you cook that week has to involve peaches or face the wrath of the Fruit Flies.

That’s how I ended up wondering:
“Can I use peaches instead of apples in my morning glory muffins?”

AI said:
“Absolutely! Just make sure they’re ripe but not overly juicy. You might want to reduce the other liquids slightly to compensate.”

That was all I needed to hear. The substitution was on, and I was starting to realize something big:
I didn’t need a brand new recipe. I needed permission to mess with one I already loved.

Hello, Zucchini (My First Time)

Then I decided to get even bolder: I wanted to add zucchini to the mix.

Photo by Angele J on Pexels.com

This might sound basic to some people, but I’d never baked with zucchini before. I had questions—mainly, “Do I peel it? Do I squeeze it? Or just toss it in like a green banana?”

So I asked:
“What’s the best way to prep zucchini for baking?”

AI calmly explained:
- Keep the skin on
- Grate it using a box grater
- And—very important— squeeze out the excess moisture with a clean towel or paper towels
That last step was crucial. I didn’t know zucchini was holding onto enough water to sink a muffin. If I’d skipped it, I would’ve ended up with soggy-bottomed disasters.

This was one of those moments that really showed me how useful AI could be—not just for flavor ideas, but for those small, technique-based tips that make or break a recipe.

I felt like a baking student who just avoided flunking Zucchini 101 thanks to a very patient tutor.

Becoming the Recipe Editor

What made this whole experience feel different is that I wasn’t blindly following instructions—I was editing. I knew the bones of the recipe, and I was asking AI for insight, proportions, and technique to adapt it to my vision.

Want it less sweet? Done.
Need it dairy-free? Easy.
Not sure how ginger and lemon zest will pair with peaches? Let’s ask the bot!

It wasn’t just about making food. It was about creating something I wanted to eat, with what I had, and learning something new in the process.

What I Learned
- AI is fantastic for flavor swaps and ingredient experiments, especially when you already have a recipe you like.
- You can ask very specific questions like, “Do I peel zucchini before baking?” or “Will this combo taste weird?”and get clear, confident answers.
- Creativity in the kitchen doesn’t have to mean guessing—AI is a great brainstorming partner when you’re venturing into unknown flavor territory.
Pantry Prompt

Thinking of a recipe you’d like to modify? Here’s the Prompt I used to get started.

“I use a basic morning glory muffin recipe regularly, but I want to change it up.. Some ideas I have are to use peaches in place of the apples, pecans in place of the walnuts & maybe zucchini in place of the carrots. Not real sure how these flavors would all go together. What do you think?”
June 14, 2025
You Can Just…Ask That?

When I first started using AI in the kitchen, I didn’t jump in with full meal plans or grocery lists. I started with the questions we all have in our heads but never say out loud because we feel like we should already know.

Like, for example:
What is this weird fruit, and how do I eat it?
Or, more importantly:
Will this potato kill me?

It turns out, you can just ask that.

Starfruit: How to Eat the Pretty (Weird?) Thing

Photo by Victor Cayke on Pexels.com

One day we picked up a starfruit at the store because it was sitting there all tropical and self-important in the produce section. I’d seen them sitting there mocking me on previous trips to the store, but had no idea what to actually do with it. Do you peel it? Eat the seeds? Is it just decorative?

Instead of a deep dive into Google, I asked AI:
“How do you eat a starfruit?”

That’s it. One simple question.
In return, I got a calm, step-by-step response that told me to wash it, slice off the edges, and enjoy it raw, seeds and all—like it wasn’t some mysterious alien fruit. And it did look like stars when I sliced it, who knew?!

✨ Bonus: It even told me how to tell if it’s ripe, which saved me from chomping into a sour science project.

Cherimoya: The Ripeness Riddle

Photo by Gilmer Diaz Estela on Pexels.com

Next up: a Cherimoya. If you’ve never seen one, imagine a fruit that looks like a dinosaur egg and feels like a papaya having an identity crisis. We bought one because someone at a local Farmer’s Market called it “custard apple” and said it was their favorite fruit. We were intrigued. Then it sat on the counter for a few days while we poked it and wondered:
“How do we know if this thing is ripe?”

So I asked AI:
“How do you know when a cherimoya is ripe?”

Again—just that. No keywords, no scrolling through blogs with autoplay videos.
And again, AI delivered. Soft to the touch, slightly browned skin, banana-meets-avocado texture on the inside. It even warned me not to eat the seeds (very appreciated, thanks)

The Potato That Looked… Off

And finally, the one that really had me nervously hovering over the trash can:
“Is it safe to eat a green potato?”

You’ve probably seen one—some weird green tint or patch on a potato you forgot in the pantry. I’d heard something somewhere about poison? But then again, people say the same thing about microwaving rice, so who knows.

So I asked AI:
“Is it safe to eat a green potato?”

This time, AI did not sugarcoat it.

“Green patches on a potato indicate the presence of chlorophyll, which usually means there may also be increased levels of a natural toxin called solanine. Solanine can cause symptoms like nausea, vomiting, diarrhea, and neurological issues if consumed in large amounts.

It’s best to peel away green areas. If the potato is significantly green or has a bitter taste, it’s safest to toss it.”

So… not deadly exactly, but definitely not the base of your next potato salad either.

Photo by Oleh Korzh on Pexels.com

What I Learned

Sometimes the best prompt is the most obvious one.

I didn’t need to scroll through a health blog, a food scientist’s dissertation, or someone’s life story about their trip to the farmer’s market in 2004. I just typed what I wanted to know, and boom—straight answers.

If you’re new to using AI for cooking, start here.
Ask the things that feel “too dumb to Google.”
Ask about the weird produce. Ask about food safety. Ask about the difference between baking soda and baking powder again (because yes, I forget every time too).

AI’s like that super chill friend who knows stuff, never judges, and doesn’t make you watch a 2-minute ad before answering.

Up Next

In my next post, I’m diving into what happened when I asked AI the age-old question:
“What’s for breakfast?”
Turns out, the answer was more interesting than I expected—and involved a lot fewer pancakes than I was hoping for.

Stay tuned.

Photo by Anna Shvets on Pexels.com

June 11, 2025