InstaFarm’s patented 4-by-4-inch compostable trays come pre-filled with about a half-inch of soil (“sourced from Amish Country in Pennsylvania,” according to InstaFarm) and organic, non-GMO seeds, with the nutritional info for the final-product microgreens listed on top. They come in over a dozen varieties of nine-packs for $23, including individual cultivars, smoothie- and salad-specific blends, and even plain trays for growing your own greens or garden starts. It is worth noting that the trays are easily saturated paperboard designed for one-time use.

For comparison, Vego’s hydroponic microgreens planter, which I used last year, is just $60 for two units, while Gardyn’s is $100. Neither produces a volume of greens anywhere close to the InstaFarm, but again, $500 can buy a lot of store-bought microgreens.

InstaFarm has an app, but it doesn’t add much to the experience, other than the ability to activate night mode (which then turns off the light for up to 10 hours). More helpful is the button on the top of the unit that comes with a sticker describing how many presses are required for any function you’d need.

Every 90 minutes, a metal nozzle arm pops out and moves along each shelf, sensing each tray and its plants’ height, humidity, and temperature. Once the nozzle is done sensing, it dispenses an appropriate blast of water, much like the spray heads in the produce section of the grocery store. If you have cats, they may be very interested the first time they hear the nozzle whirring and moving slowly over the shelves. (The first quick, unexpected spray was an entertaining event in my house.) Sometimes, this sensing was more accurate in theory than in practice—for some reason, the sensor consistently overshot the watering volume for the red beet greens (but only the beet greens), causing the tray to overflow daily.

After a few weeks, I noticed the nozzle making a slight mechanical noise once it finished its rounds, as it slowly retracted back to its resting position. It wasn’t loud—it reminded me of the sound the bullwheel makes at the top of a ski lift—but because the InstaFarm was sitting on my dining room table, it was noticeable. And I should also note it was on my dining room table because, despite the website’s claims the unit can fit under most kitchen cabinets, it was just slightly too tall for mine. This made it difficult to site, as it does take up an approximate 6-by-18-inch footprint. Given how easy it is to clip the greens off for salads, smoothies, and other meals, its most natural habitat is probably the kitchen, so you may want to measure more than once to make sure it will fit your space.

Greens Aplenty

Photograph: Kat Merck

Just as the directions claimed would happen, I had lush, usable microgreens in about five days. For my first growing round (I’ve now been through four), I was overly excited and placed a tray on every slot. Unless you have a large family that eats microgreens for every meal, I don’t recommend this. I tried gamely to use them all, but after the traumatic experience of putting a tray’s worth of radish microgreens in a strawberry smoothie (so spicy, so radishy), I decided to share some of my first-grown trays with friends.