What you get
It starts with a jar of green seasoning — the recipe in full, nothing held back. It is the thing that changes what a Tuesday is capable of.
Then a pot of potatoes, boiled whole in their skins and stopped early. This is a restaurant technique. It takes twenty-five minutes, it costs nothing, and you will notice it on the first weeknight you use it.
Then a dressing you can build from whatever's in the cupboard, and one protein bagged in green seasoning before it goes in the fridge. Fifteen minutes, that last part.
That is the cooking. What follows is seven dinners, sorted by how much you have in you — the ten-minute ones that are assembly and nothing else, the half-hour ones that use a single pan, and the one that cooks slowly while you do something else.
Why it holds
Most plans are indexed by date, which is why they break the first time Tuesday doesn't go to plan. This one is indexed by capacity. There is no day four to fall behind on. There is a list of what tonight could be, arranged by how much is left in the tank.
There is also a page for the week that went sideways — the Wednesday where nothing got prepped, the chicken is still frozen and there is no stock. That page exists because that week exists.