Category: Uncategorized

  • Sneaky Suppers for the Real World: Hiding Veggies, Dodging Tantrums, and Winning Dinner (Mostly)

    Sneaky Suppers for the Real World: Hiding Veggies, Dodging Tantrums, and Winning Dinner (Mostly)

    I recently got some reader feedback.
    (Translation: my daughter called me out.)

    She told me that while my AI cooking adventures are fun and all, not everyone is out here trying to spiralize zucchini and soak organic chickpeas. Some people are just trying to feed a first grader something—anything—other than chicken nuggets, mac & cheese, or those little pizza rolls that come out of the microwave hotter than lava.

    She also gently pointed out (with her usual sarcasm, which I clearly passed down like a family heirloom) that not everyone eats the way I do. Nuts, seeds, organic, no red meat… cool story, Mom—but some of us just want to know how to hide an onion in dinner without our child staging a full-scale rebellion.

    Fair. Very fair.
    And probably what a lot of parents are thinking while reading this.

    So let’s be clear: this post isn’t for the gluten-free, tahini-stirring, Pinterest-perfect version of yourself you see in your dreams. This one is for the version of you who has $20, a half-empty fridge, and a first grader who just declared he won’t eat “anything green or squishy or weird.”

    This one’s for the moms (and dads!) who shop tired, cook tired, eat standing up, and just want to feel like they didn’t totally lose the dinner battle tonight.

    The Dinner Dilemma: Real Life Edition

    Let’s talk about my grandson for a second. When he came to visit, his preferred menu was a sacred trifecta of:

    • Mac & cheese
    • Pizza rolls
    • Chicken nuggets

    That’s it. He said it with the confidence of a seasoned diner reading off the chef’s specials.

    So when my daughter asked me, “How do I get this child to eat something remotely healthy without him knowing it’s healthy?” First, I had to chuckle to myself “hello karma, so nice for you to come back around!” but, I knew she wasn’t alone. That’s a real challenge for a lot of parents. She also wanted to know things like:

    • “How do I add onions to dinner without him noticing?”
    • “What’s something fast I can make with a tiny budget that still feels like a meal?”
    • “Can AI help with this or is it only for people who own a spiralizer?”

    And yes, my daughter eats very differently than I do. She’s not going to whip up almond flour muffins or swap pasta for cauliflower. She’s using pre-made sauces, red meat, and gluten—and she needs ideas that work in that world. Realistic. Fast. Familiar. Picky-eater-proof. That’s the vibe.

    “I’m not buying weird ingredients, okay?”

    Prompt:

    “Give me easy dinner ideas with minimal prep, no weird ingredients, and foods my picky kid will eat. Use jarred sauce or prepackaged shortcuts if needed. Prioritize speed and familiarity, but sneak in something a little healthy.”

    What you’ll get:
    Think spaghetti with a jarred sauce that hides pureed veggies. Sloppy joes with ground beef and finely chopped mushrooms. Tacos with cheese and beans mashed into the meat. Pasta bake with some frozen spinach that disappears in the layers. Comfort food, but with a twist your kid might not notice.

    “I have $20 and no energy to think.”

    Prompt:

    “Give me a $20 grocery list and a fast dinner recipe for a picky eater and a meat-and-potatoes husband. I want it to feel like real food, but be easy to make and sneak in something healthy without anyone noticing.”

    This one could result in:

    • Rotini pasta, ground beef, jarred marinara, and a hidden shredded zucchini.
    • Chicken quesadillas with canned black beans and finely chopped bell peppers.
    • Hamburger helper-style skillet meals with added frozen veggies and a little grated cheese on top for good measure.

    “How do I add onions without getting caught?”

    Prompt:

    “How do I sneak onions into a meal without my kid tasting or seeing them?”

    Ideas include:

    • Grating onions instead of chopping
    • Cooking them until soft and mixing into sauce
    • Adding onion powder instead of real onions
    • Using premade sauces that already have blended onions in the base

    Bonus tip: if your kid already trusts a certain meal (like spaghetti), that’s the place to sneak stuff in—not something totally new.

    Final Thoughts: You’re Doing Fine

    Here’s the thing: no one is handing out trophies for healthiest dinner. You are not a failure because you didn’t make homemade soup stock or serve a rainbow of vegetables tonight.

    Using AI doesn’t mean you suddenly have to overhaul your family’s eating habits. It means you have a free, 24/7 brainstorming buddy that can meet you where you are. Even if that’s at the grocery store with 10 minutes to spare and a toddler asking why cookies aren’t a vegetable.

    Just like I tell my daughter—start with what you already know your kid (or your partner, or you) will eat, and build from there. Toss in something just a little bit better. Use the shortcuts. Use the pre-made sauce. Ask AI for help and keep what works.

    You’re not failing. You’re feeding people. That counts.

  • Meal Plan Mayhem: Recipes, Reminders, and a Big Jar of Tahini

    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.

  • Remix the Recipe: Baking Boldly with a Bot

    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.

    peaches on a tree

    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.

    zucchini
    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?”

  • You Can Just…Ask That?

    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

    pile of starfruit
    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

    chirimoya fruit
    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.

    potatoes
    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