“2 eggs, toast with butter, large coffee” — read, priced from a checked food database, and logged. Then a calorie target that is measured from your own results rather than predicted from a formula about someone your size. All of it on the device, in your pocket, on a plane.
Type a sentence. No search screens, no dropdowns, no scrolling a list of four hundred bananas. “2 medium bananas”, “half a cup of rice”, “3 slices of toast this morning” — all of it lands where it should.
Point at the packet. It decodes on the device, so it works in the aisle of a shop with no signal — which is the only place anyone uses it.
175 curated foods with 386 named portions, verified against published reference data. Every row says where its numbers came from. Yours are labelled as yours, and a takeaway curry is labelled an estimate.
The milk that goes in every coffee outranks the jar you opened once a month ago — with the amount you had last time already filled in.
Measured weekly from what you logged and what your weight trend did. It follows a new job, a training block, or simply being lighter.
A smoothed line with its own noise band drawn around it, so a salty dinner never looks like a bad week.
Build your breakfast once. Copy a whole Tuesday. After a fortnight most days are three taps.
A short, scripted conversation for a craving — HALT, delay-and-decide, urge surfing — where having the thing is an acceptable outcome.
Describe the plate instead of weighing it. A rough day logged is worth far more than a perfect day missing.
Roti, dal, biryani, idli, dosa, hummus, falafel, shawarma, machboos, tabbouleh, pho, pad thai and arepa, with their own portions — not bolted on as an afterthought.
Pre-log tonight's dinner and it reserves the calories without pretending you have eaten them. The day's total stays honest until you confirm.
Face ID, Touch ID or your passcode on the diary itself. And a quiet mode that replaces every figure with a word, for when the number is the problem.
No streaks to break. No red numbers for eating. Nothing is a cheat, and nothing has to be burned off. The target will not go below what your body uses at rest, and it will not chase a goal weight below a healthy one — not as a lecture, just as a number the app declines to hand you.
What you eat and what you weigh is, for a lot of people, the most private thing on their phone. This app cannot leak it, because it never sends it. There is no account to breach and no server to subpoena. It works in aeroplane mode, and it will still work if this developer disappears tomorrow.
The download is about 770 MB, because the AI ships inside the app rather than living on somebody's server. It is the one cost of an app that has no account, no subscription and nothing to connect to. You pay it once, on Wi-Fi, and then never think about it again.
Nothing. No subscription, no in-app purchases, no adverts, no free trial that turns into a bill. Export everything as CSV or a full backup whenever you like — there is no lock-in to protect, because there is nothing to sell you later.