Indoor kitchen gardening

Growing up in Minnesota, my schools always seemed located across from cornfields and farm stands, but wearily gazing outside during math class was about as close as I got to agriculture. Although my great-grandparents and grandparents were farmers, I grew up in the suburbs, a land of uniform lawns and frozen vegetables, and although I deeply appreciated lazing around in trees and watching bees in the neighbor’s garden, I never imagined I’d be spending any time digging, weeding, or talking about compost. The concept of growing food was about as foreign to me as algebra (which I also believed I’d never use). After a few decades in the business world, that sense of disconnection to my food remained, although I’d expanded into cooking more meals and using more than one spice at a time. It wasn’t until I was in my early 40s, though, that I actually grew anything more than an appetite.