The Recipe Finder Is Real Now — and the Whole System Got Friendlier
In the last post, I described four pieces of my healthy-cooking system. Three worked. The fourth — a recipe finder — was a promise:
Tell it what’s in the fridge, and it’ll go hunting through my favorite cooking sites for matches, then drop candidates into the folder as drafts I can adapt and save.
That part works now. This is the story of building it, and of the small fixes that turned a pile of working tools into something I actually enjoy using.
What the recipe finder does
I give it a few ingredients — “chicken, lemon, kale” — and it goes shopping for ideas across a curated list of cooking sites I already trust: Serious Eats, Love and Lemons, Rainbow Plant Life, a handful of others. It reads each site’s own index of recipes, pulls the structured recipe data off the pages, and hands me back a ranked shortlist.
Two things make the list mine rather than generic:
- It ranks by what I have. The more of my ingredients a recipe uses, the higher it scores. A lemon-forward salmon bowl floats to the top of a “chicken, lemon” search; a recipe that happens to match nothing sinks.
- It respects how I eat. I cook seafood, chicken, and a lot of vegetables — no beef or pork. So anything with beef, pork, bacon, or sausage is dropped automatically, and it tells me why it dropped each one. Nothing disappears silently.
I skim the shortlist, save the ones that look good, and they land in my folder as drafts. From there a second step turns each one into a proper recipe in my library — with the ingredient amounts worked out per serving — that I can then log by talking, the same way I log any other meal.
Why it’s two steps, on purpose
The finder never publishes anything on its own. It discovers, then I decide. Saving a candidate writes a private draft; promoting that draft into the real library is a separate, deliberate step. That gap is the whole point — it’s the difference between a tool that fills your folder with junk and one you trust to leave the front door closed.
It’s also a good citizen on the way out: it honors each site’s rules about what robots may read, waits a beat between requests so it’s never hammering anyone, and remembers what it already fetched for a week so re-running a search is instant and doesn’t re-bother the sites.
The unglamorous part: making it pleasant
A system you build for yourself lives or dies on the small stuff. This month most of my time went there, not into anything flashy:
- Every part now has a written how-to. I wrote down how the finder works — every option, what it does, what it deliberately doesn’t do — so future-me (or anyone I share this with) isn’t reverse-engineering it from memory.
- The site grew up a little. It’s live now. Articles show who wrote them and when. Every recipe gets a clean preview card when you share its link, so a recipe sent to a friend appears inviting rather than a naked URL.
- Recipes can carry a photo. Drop in a picture of the dish and it leads the page — and becomes that shareable card.
None of these are exciting on their own. Together they’re the difference between a project I poke at and one I reach for.
Where this is heading
Right now the finder is something I run from a keyboard. But I already talk to the meal logger — I say what I ate, and it sorts out the rest. The obvious next move is to let me talk to the finder too: “what can I make with what’s in the fridge tonight?” and have it answer, not print.
Further out, the interesting question is whether all of this collapses into one thing you simply speak to — a kitchen assistant that knows my preferences, finds the recipe, helps me cook it, and logs the meal, all in conversation. I don’t know yet if that’s worth building or just fun to imagine. That’s the next thing I want to find out here, in public.
If you’ve wondered whether building your own tools is worth it: this is what it looks like a few weekends in. Not a finished product — a system that keeps getting a little friendlier every time I sit down with it.
I keep writing about this as it grows — what works, what surprises me, what fails. If that’s your thing, subscribe. Roughly weekly. No filler.