One hour, once a week, that runs the rest of the household on rails — built because an unplanned week doesn't survive a GLP-1 appetite.
Be honest about what's actually still food in the fridge versus a science experiment wearing a lid. A fridge full of ambiguous leftovers offers no real answer to "what's for dinner."
One page, literally — if it takes more than one page, the plan's already lost. A skeleton for the next seven days: what protein anchors each dinner, what's ready for lunches, what Friday and Saturday already are.
A master list covers 90% of what gets bought every week; the remaining 10% flexes with that week's plan. In person or delivery — convenience is a feature, not a failure.
Proteins portioned and partly cooked ahead, fruit washed and cut, vegetables chopped, a carb base batch-cooked. A weeknight meal becomes assembly, not a project.
Most afternoon kitchen-wandering isn't hunger. It's boredom standing in for hunger. Climb the ladder before deciding what you actually want.
Same meal, different quantities and timing — not two separate dinners. It's the small piece of engineering that removes most of the 6pm tension when two people are eating for two different training loads.
Not medical advice. This describes one household's personal system, shared for reference only.