The family food OS · iPhone — Android — Web
Your family’s recipes, kept.
Every recipe you love, the week’s plan, and the shopping list — one place, in your pocket. Vurna knows your table: the walnut allergy, the broccoli veto, what Tuesday needs.
Bring me the first one. I’ll remember it for you.
Nothing is charged today. What you make in the seven days stays yours.Already have the app? Sign in
What she does
The whole kitchen, in one place.
The recipes, the week, the list, the people you cook for. Vurna keeps all of it — and keeps it in step across your phone and the web.
She reads
She reads. She remembers.
The handwritten card. The stained page from the book you’ve had since university. The screenshot you’d never find again. Send her a photo, a link, or the words — once.
Got it — Nan’s Sunday roast, as she wrote it.
She plans
She has an opinion about Tuesday.
The week, drafted from your own book first — never somebody else’s food. Swap a night with a drag, done before the kettle’s boiled.
Thursday’s quick — you’re home late.
She writes the list
The list writes itself.
She knows you have rice, oil, and three lemons. The list is what’s missing — sorted by aisle, shared with whoever’s doing the shop, ticked off with one thumb.
Six things. You’re out of thyme.
She knows your table
She cooks around your table.
Tell her once — Mia’s walnuts, Jonas and broccoli. She checks every recipe she plans against the allergies you save, and works around dislikes where she can. She can’t see labels, so check those before you cook.
I check every dinner against Mia’s walnuts. You check the labels.
Pocket · counter · desk
In your pocket, and on the big screen.
Cook from the phone. Sit down at the web when there’s typing to do — the book, the week, the list, all in step. Nothing to sync, nothing to email yourself.
Same kitchen, wherever you sit.
Asked, answered.
Whose food is it?
Yours. Your book is yours to keep and yours to take — export everything, any time, from Settings. Deleting your account deletes it for good.
What’s in the seven days?
All of it — the book, the import, the drafted week, the list. You pick monthly or yearly, nothing is charged until day seven, and every recipe you import or she writes in those days is yours to keep.
iPhone or Android?
Both, and the web. One account, one kitchen, always in step.
What if we stop?
Cancel in two clicks, here or in the store you bought from. Your book stays yours to read and export; she just stops working the week.
Bring her the first recipe.
I’ll take it from here.
Nothing is charged today. What you make stays yours.