As spring unfurls her tender green fingers, I find myself planning more than just a garden — I'm planting the beginnings of meals shared on frosty nights, the spark of summer’s heat captured in a fiery sauce, the earthy comfort of roasted roots long after the leaves have fallen.

This year, I’m growing with preservation in mind. Each seed I tuck into the soil carries the hope of jars lined up neatly in the pantry, of flavors deepened by time, of nourishment ready when the earth sleeps.