After five planting sessions, there are seven trays of seedlings between the heat pad, grow light and table in the dining area. This year, indoor planting is proceeding well.
My foundational experience in gardening improved dramatically during the period 2013-2020 when I worked on area farms. 2026 is the year I introduced artificial intelligence into the process.
The results of ai have been surprisingly good. Because the large language model has so much information in its database, without hesitation, it can give me planting schedule adjustments, ways to use two spots on the heating pad, and two more under LED grow lights. The rest of my process from seed to seedling to greenhouse to planting has fewer uncertainties this year compared to last. Optimizing use of the heating pad has been a boon to productivity.
On the second day of March, I am of to a good start.
It’s cold outside, the kind of cold that stings my cheeks while walking on the state park trail. I’m standing at my workbench sorting seeds for early planting. The heat pad is already plugged in. Grow lights hang overhead. In front of me is a cabinet with last year’s leftover seeds, sorted by variety. On the bench are two dozen packets with this year’s seeds. I’m still looking through seed catalogues. It’s time to decide what to plant first, what to wait on, what to try for the first time, and what to abandon. Each small seed packet represents a choice made long before anything reaches the kitchen.
Every decision reflects a value. Food is no exception. In this series of posts, I will discuss the idea of a “food algorithm” to see where it goes.
Simply put, an algorithm is a repeatable sequence of steps used to accomplish a task. With food, this could be a recipe, yet that’s not what I mean. The intent is to take food from the seed, seedling, or cutting as the first in a series of decisions about what goes on a table.
Agriculture is a large field to consider, but food algorithms are individual. An active agent — a person — decides whether to plant a bean seed, use raw beans from a farmer, rely on prepared, canned beans from a retailer, or use beans that have been prepared with other ingredients. This decision is elemental and part of a discussion most cooks have when preparing a dish. My focus is at this entry point, not to gather and analyze recipes, although one could.
An algorithm is simply a structured way of getting from here to there. We use them constantly in many aspects of our lives. Following food from seed to table is a more comprehensive look at a process we follow, yet do so largely unawares.
I see three interlocking layers:
Biological logic — the natural requirements and rhythms of the plant or animal.
Human practice — the gardener’s labor, the farmer’s tradeoffs, the cook’s improvisations.
System forces — markets, logistics, regulation, energy use, and scale.
By showing how these layers interact, the discussion could make visible the hidden structure beneath everyday meals.
Taking steps in the process from seed to table represents ordinary choices that shape resilience, community, and ecological health. It could create awareness and the quiet power of understanding the paths food has taken before it reaches us.
The adventurer in me wonders what will be next. I hope readers will too.
After struggling to get the fork into a pile of grass clippings, I gave up for the day. Everything was frozen solid, even after a few days with ambient temperatures well above freezing. Highs in the 40s and 50s are forecast the rest of the week. Maybe I will accomplish my goal of clearing one plot this week to use as temporary storage. Not that day, though.
I am in the garden way early this year, so there is time for preseason work. I seeded the first indoor trays last Saturday and by Tuesday some of the varieties already had leaves. I hope they all germinate by this Saturday when I prepare the next tray of seedlings. Warming pad space is at a premium the next eight weeks.
When we moved to Big Grove Township there were scrub grasses and a lone mulberry tree on the vacant lot we purchased. The tree appeared to have been planted by a bird’s droppings while it perched on a surveyor’s re-bar marker. The ground had a high clay content which suggested the farmer who made his farm into a subdivision had removed the topsoil before selling plats.
From that clay I built soil in a garden that now occupies one fourth of the 0.62 acres we own. When I started, the first plots were small with a large grass border around them. Today I can’t get the mower between the plots to cut foxtail grasses and other weeds that grow there. I got big after working on a vegetable farm for eight years, bringing home the skills and techniques I learned there. After years of expansion, it seems time to bring order to what I do. This is likely why I am outdoors in the garden the second week of February.
We did not set out to build habitat when we moved here. The decision to site the house closer to the north property line — as opposed to in the center — mattered more than I knew. Placement of the foundation determined what remained open, how wind would move, where trees should be planted. We were thinking of how to build additions when finances permitted. Now, a deer path runs the length of the lot on the south side of our home. When winds come from the west, there is a corridor on the north side where it sweeps through the fruit orchard, and into the back yard. Over the years wind has taken a toll on the many trees we planted here. We never built an addition, nor even a deck.
The abundance of wildlife remains mostly unseen. There have been birds of all kinds, opossums, foxes, and after many years of waiting for trees to grow, there are squirrels. There are too many deer, although by developing a path from their space in a nearby woods to an large apple orchard to the west, they mostly leave me alone.
As I contemplate today’s schedule I plan more time in the garden. Maybe the dead vegetation will have loosened enough to move it. Maybe not. In either case, there is plenty of time for preseason garden work.
Markers for kale, collards and chard in a tray of soil blocks on Feb. 7, 2026.
The first day’s seeding session went quickly and well. I bought soil mix and garden seeds last fall, and cleared the table I use indoors — with a heating pad and grow light — last month. Experience pays as I was able to find and put together everything else in a couple of hours on Saturday morning, producing two trays of 50 soil blocks each. Mostly, I planted cruciferous vegetables.
We’ve been saving plastic yogurt tubs and today I drilled holes in a dozen of them for an indoor herb garden. It will be a new experiment. If successful, it will have been worth trying. Bread on the water.
I’ve been looking at photographs from previous gardens and was inspired by this one to grow leeks again. We returned to leek-potato soup in the kitchen and prefer our own leeks over store bought because we understand all the inputs. I ordered a bundle of leek starts from a new to me seed company.
Garden produce in 2008.
When it is cold outdoors, I put kitchen scraps in a 5-gallon bucket in the garage until it warms and I can dump them in the composter. Because of the cold, the composter is not doing much work and is two thirds full of kitchen waste. The other garden waste composter has hardly anything in it. When I make my indoor herb garden, I won’t use garden compost in the soil mix because it hasn’t decomposed enough and therefore might be stinky.
Part of apple sorting is putting low grade ones in a pile for wildlife. By spring they will be gone. (Update: when I took the compost out on Feb. 7, 2026, they were all gone.
This year seems different in that the pace of everything from the garden to finishing my book to politics is swift and deliberate. As long as I remember who I am, I’m okay with that.
Although 2025 was an “on year” for apples — all five trees bore fruit — I skipped making apple butter because there were more than three dozen pints in the pantry. I need more uses for the thick, sweet, and tasty condiment than spreading on toasted bread and muffins, dolloping on applesauce cake, and spooning it on pancakes. It turns out there are more preparations I hadn’t thought about.
As a vegetarian household, using apple butter in meat cooking, while popular elsewhere, is not viable. That isn’t the end of the discussion. One must change their way of thinking about apple butter. It is good as a spread, yet can be considered as a fruit-based sweetener, thick apple concentrate, or a spiced apple paste. These considerations open a whole new world. It could be used as a replacement for honey, molasses, or applesauce without much recipe variation. Following are some ideas to try.
The first thing I did was to dish up a serving of plain Greek yogurt and swirl two tablespoons of aronia berry apple butter into it. I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of it before, yet after trying it, apple butter will be a recurring breakfast menu item to pair with yogurt.
We already use applesauce as an egg replacement in baking. Our corn muffins, or any other muffins serve as a useful home for it to replace an egg. The texture is always moist, firm and tasty. I will just substitue apple butter and use a bit less.
Using it on grilled cheese sandwiches hadn’t occurred to me. It might pair well with the sharp cheddar cheese I use to make them. I make about one grilled cheese sandwich per month, and next time I will spread some apple butter on it to discover the flavor.
We are not big cake eaters or bakers. We do have a recipe for a spice cake. Next time we make it, we will try substituting apple butter for the oil. Based on the experience with applesauce cake and muffins, I bet it will be moist and delicious, as well as change the spice profile.
I found a recipe for a barbecue sauce or ketchup that includes apple butter, tomato paste, vinegar, onion and garlic powder, and spices. There is nothing to lose by making a batch and trying it.
There was a recipe for a salad dressing made from one tablespoon each of apple butter, extra virgin olive oil, vinegar and mustard. Simple. The way we like our recipes.
Substituting apple butter for the sweetened, condensed oat milk I use when making steel cut oats is a possibility. The spices will add a variation in flavor. I make this dish about twice per month and will try it next time.
The next “on year” for apples is forecast for 2027. Hopefully I will use most of the apple butter in the pantry by then and make new.
I’ve written about hot sauce so many times. It is ironic that the two other main people in my family have an aversion to capsaicin. Here I am again, though, writing about my enamored state regarding all things hot peppers.
Slowly, over a matter of years, I developed hot pepper food products I use. When I make a lot of fluid pepper sauce, I typically water bath can it, mindful of how much acid goes into each batch. This year’s repeated food products are:
Ground cayenne pepper to fill an existing spice jar. I kept the extras whole for future use.
Legacy hot pepper seasoning. Dried peppers and other spices mixed together and stored in large canning jars after the stove-side receptacles are filled. This is made with everything hot and few that aren’t. Also includes a large batch of Emeril Lagasse’s Essence.
I still keep a bottle of Frank’s RedHot in the refrigerator. It has a distinctive taste which I seek from time-to-time.
By now, the fresh peppers are gone. I found freezing them whole or halved was not the best option. This year hot pepper paste is doing journeyman’s kitchen duty. Making it used all remaining hot peppers. Hot pepper paste is a gardener’s friend.
Growing and using hot peppers is a never-ending journey. One I hope continues as long as I live.
When gleaning the garden I picked a number of green cayenne peppers. Not wanting to mix them with the red ones, I ground them into a fine powder and have been using it in lieu of hot sauce on Mexican-style dishes. It is an unexpected treat.
While making tacos on our Taco Tuesday, I used the last of the fresh kale from the refrigerator. We almost made it to 2026. Now we turn to the freezer for leafy green vegetables. There is plenty for household use.
We make tofu stir fry on rice as a main course. I have been experimenting with pureed garlic. It is made with extra virgin olive oil and garden garlic. In stir fry, it mixes with the water used as a cooking medium and forms a tasty sauce. I will be pureeing more garlic as we use up the initial batches.
It’s almost time for another pot of barley-lentil vegetable soup. I will raid the freezer for ingredients, including grated zucchini and summer squash, diced celery, prepared pumpkin, and collards. A warm bowl of soup is appreciated this time of year.
I cleaned off my writing table because I spilled a giant cup of coffee on it. The damage was minimal but the drop cloth that protects it got wet and is draped over the car to dry. I found a bottle of furniture cleaner and treated the surface. Nothing says you are ready for what’s next like a clean writing surface.
Coffee mug made by Alea when we worked together at the orchard.
I will spend my two Friday afternoon work blocks getting ready for the arrival of our child. Mainly, that means cooking. Great Northern beans soaked overnight and are heading for a traditional bean soup made with carrots, onion, celery, and bay leaves cooked in homemade vegetable broth. There will also be homemade cornbread. I am debating whether to make applesauce cake or pumpkin bread for dessert. We’ll see what happens. It goes without saying, supper will be completely vegan.
Ever since the fire ran them out of their apartment building, first to temporary quarters and then to a new rental in a western suburb, our home became a storage depot for stuff not needed now, but was worth keeping. More storage items are enroute as I type these words. I created a storage platform with the loft bed I made for their college dormitory. It serves.
This is a tribal time. We don’t spend time together at the end of year holidays, so this is what we do. Have a bean soup supper two weeks before Christmas Day. Life is good.
My spouse’s trip to her sister’s home extended into a third week. A typical behavior when I’m home alone is going through the pantry to see what new ideas I can experiment with while my mate is gone. I found we have a LOT of quinoa. Some I bought on discount at the home, farm and auto supply company before the pandemic, and the two boxes came from mail order. I decided to cook a quart of it in vegetable broth and see where things went.
Quinoa bowl ingredients, including less than half the prepared quinoa.
I discovered a quart of uncooked quinoa makes a GIGANTIC amount of cooked. I tried some after cooking the batch and found it quite good by itself. It’s a nice change from other grains. I did research about using it and came upon the quinoa bowl. There will be a lot of those during the next week to ten days.
The premise is basic: use a base of cooked quinoa and mix it with other things. First up was a Mexican-style quinoa bowl. I used quinoa, canned black beans, homemade salsa, onion, and bell pepper. The vegetables were raw, and everything else cold. I put the ingredients in a bowl and mixed, and voilà: dinner is served. It hardly made a dent in the quinoa. As far as taste goes, I rate it 8 of 10.
Quinoa bowl.
These are going to be quick, simple, inexpensive, and tasty meals. Now the search for other inspiration begins.
It began with opening the refrigerator and looking inside. I felt like cooking dinner for myself on Thursday night, yet wanted something different. I had a vague idea about cooking a frozen black bean burger and putting a sauce on it. I saw the half-used jar of tomato purée and a couple of tablespoons of sour cream on the top shelf. There was a partly used onion and bell pepper. Our kitchen always has plenty of garlic. I had just ground some cayenne peppers in the green state right before first frost. “I can make a dish out of that,” I said to myself.
Next came the mixing. I poured about a cup of tomatoes into a measuring cup, then scraped the remaining sour cream out of the container and added it. As the kids say, “Mixy, mixy.” It seemed too thin so I got out a jar of vegetable broth with miso paste and arrowroot dissolved in it, shook it up and added about a half cup. Finally, I added a scant teaspoon of cayenne pepper flakes and gave it a final stir.
I got out two frying pans, the smaller for the black bean burger and the larger for the sauce. Coating the bottom of each with extra virgin olive oil, I put the heat on. It takes about 10 minutes to cook the burger so I got the sauce going by sauteing the onion, bell pepper, and a diced jalapeño pepper until softened. Garlic next and as it cooked, it didn’t look like enough vegetables. I got a bag of mixed vegetables from the freezer and added a generous handful. I cooked the veg until everything was heated through and done. I added some powdered cayenne pepper to make sure the heat was at the right level.
Once the vegetables were ready, I poured on the sauce and cooked long enough to heat it through and let the arrowroot do its thickening work. There was some reduction yet that wasn’t the main feature of my cookery. I tasted it, and adjusted seasoning.
To serve, I put a spoonful of sauce on the bottom of a small bowl with the burger on top. I poured the rest of the sauce over it and garnished with sliced green onions. Not too much heat, and the plate stayed warm until it was eaten. This is what no-recipe cooking can look like.
Journey Home 
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