Most people cook like they're assembling IKEA furniture—one meal, one specific purpose, and zero reusability.

I don’t know if this will be as big a deal to you as it was to me, but discovering this concept completely changed how I cook—and more importantly, how I don’t waste food.

This is Modular Cooking.

What Does Modular Cooking/Eating Even Mean?

Your fridge is like your closet. Instead of buying an entire outfit for every occasion (which is how most people cook), you have a set of mix-and-match staples—jeans, shirts, jackets—that combine into multiple looks. A few well-chosen pieces = endless outfit combos.

Simply put, a modular food system means every item you buy serves multiple purposes. So when you prep food, you do it in a way that lets you recombine the pieces into different meals all week.

A modular system forces you to think in terms of flexible components, so even if you don’t eat something exactly as planned, it can still be repurposed into something else. Leftover roasted veggies? Omelet, wrap, or soup. That last bit of chicken? Toss it on a salad, into pasta, or stuff it into a quesadilla. Cooking a big batch of rice? Now you have a base for multiple meals instead of random scraps of side dishes that don’t add up to anything.

This approach also makes meal prep less soul-crushing, because you’re not just cooking one meal in bulk and suffering through it all week. Instead, you’re prepping building blocks that can be mixed and matched, giving you variety without extra work. It’s meal prep for people who don’t want to eat the same thing every day like a robot.

So, if you implement this, you’ll save money, waste less food, and stop staring blankly into your fridge wondering why you have so many ingredients but no meals.

How to Do Practice Modular Cooking

Let’s break the components of your meals into four categories: 1) Proteins, 2) Starches, 3) Veggies, and 4) Flavor Enhancers

Here’s the big secret to not hating your own cooking: versatility. You want ingredients that play well with others, not divas that demand a whole production just to be edible. Proteins should adapt, not dictate. Starches should be blank slates, not dead ends. Veggies should stay alive long enough to actually get eaten. And flavor enhancers? They’re the difference between “meal prep” and “culinary despair.” Nail these four, and you’ll always have something good to eat—without the tragic fridge cleanouts or the desperate late-night drive-thrus.

Proteins

Buy stuff that works for multiple meals. Chicken? Roast it, shred it, cube it—suddenly it’s tacos, stir-fry, or soup. Ground beef? Burger, pasta, taco filler. Eggs and beans? Absolute powerhouses. Either cook it all plain and season as needed, or pre-divide flavors (but enjoy making your fridge look like a science experiment).

Starches

Carbs are your friend, despite what the gym bros say. Stick to reliable staples—rice, potatoes, pasta, bread. Rice morphs into stir-fry, burrito bowls, or side dishes. Potatoes? Bake ‘em, fry ‘em, mash ‘em—endless possibilities, zero commitment.

Veggies

Stop impulse-buying kale just to throw it away two weeks later. Get hardy, versatile options—carrots, onions, cabbage, broccoli—things that won’t die immediately and work across multiple dishes. Roast a big batch at once unless you enjoy the thrill of watching lettuce decay.

Flavor Enhancers

The reason you aren’t already eating meal-prepped sadness. Stock your fridge with game-changers like hot sauce, soy sauce, citrus, cheese, and spices. Same chicken and rice? One night, Asian-inspired with soy sauce and ginger; the next, Mexican vibes with lime and salsa. Suddenly, leftovers aren’t a punishment.

Stick to the versatility rule, and you’ll never again stare into your fridge wondering why past-you set you up for failure.

I could tell you my go-to flavor enhancers, but you probably don’t care. Here’s all you need to know: It’s a bunch of stuff I make myself and love to eat! For you, I suggest you find a variety of diverse flavor enhancers that you love, then keep them on stand by. Don’t save them for special occasions, just eat good food. There’s nothing more satisfying than getting home after a long day and simply throwing together a bunch of meat, veggies and potatoes you cooked the day before, then slathering it with your favorite sauce.

Common Complaints

Okay, things are about to get real. Modular cooking is awesome, but some people will hate the idea.

Complaint #1: “This is just meal prep with extra steps.”

If modular eating is just meal prep with extra steps, then a Swiss Army knife is just a single knife with extra steps. And yet, one is vastly more useful than the other.

Complaint #2: “This is just reinventing leftovers.”

Oh yes, how dare I introduce a concept that makes leftovers not feel like leftovers? You know what modular eating actually does? It prevents food fatigue—so instead of eating the exact same reheated chicken for three days straight, you get a sandwich one day, a rice bowl the next, and tacos the third. But sure, go ahead and keep microwaving the same sad Tupperware meal until you hate it.

Complaint #3: “But what if I don’t know what flavors go together?”

You know what else goes together? Google and your fingers. I believe in you!

Complaint #4: “But what if I mess up and it tastes bad?”

What if you make a meal that’s slightly underwhelming? You eat it, adjust next time, and move on with your life.

Complaint #5: “What if I don’t have the right sauce/spice?”

Then use a different one. You think every cuisine in the world has exactly the same pantry? That’s why substitutions exist. The whole point of modular eating is flexibility, not following a script.

Complaint #6: “I don’t trust myself to plan meals ahead.”

Good news! You don’t have to. All you have to do is make sure you have at least one protein, one starch, a veggie and some sauces/spices and boom—you’ve already given yourself a week of meal options.

At the end of the day, most complaints boil down to one of three things:

1. “I don’t want to change.” – Then keep wasting food and money, I guess.
2. “I don’t trust myself.” – Then start small. Roast a chicken and see what happens.
3. “I want food to be completely thoughtless.” – Then accept the trade-off that you will forever be a victim of grocery store impulse purchases and fridge chaos.

Otherwise? This works. Now go make something modular. Try it for one week. Cook a few versatile staples, mix them up, and see if your life doesn’t get 10x easier. Worst case? You still have food. Best case? You never go back.