Tastelog

Turn your camera roll into a food diary. Every meal searchable — then tap the friends you're eating with, and Tastelog picks the spot you should all try together.

You've photographed hundreds of meals. Could you name the restaurant behind ten? The dish? Who was at the table — or at the stove?

Tastelog is a private diary of the meals worth remembering, out and at home. Your food photos become memories — each one holding what the photo alone can't: the place or the kitchen, the dish, the company, the occasion. And as the diary grows, it quietly learns your taste, until "what do we feel like eating?" finally has an answer.

START WITH PHOTOS YOU ALREADY HAVE Pick the meal photos worth keeping, and each one drafts its own memory: the restaurant, guessed from where you stood; the date, read from the photo itself. You confirm the place, add a line if you feel like it, done. Cooked it yourself? One tap says so. Years of great meals, remembered in one sitting.

MORE THAN A RESTAURANT NAME The place is the least of a memory. Note what you ordered, who shared the table, and what the night was for — a birthday, a farewell, a first date you didn't know was one. Add as much or as little as a meal deserves. Years on, you won't just know where you ate; you'll remember why it mattered.

THE MEALS YOU MADE A Tuesday soup can mean more than a tasting menu, so home cooking gets the same care. Say whose kitchen it was — yours, Mom's, a friend's — and who did the cooking. The dishes you've made come back as one-tap chips, and the diary keeps count: the seventh time you've made the dumplings, three winters running. When you were the cook, the note asks for your recipe, so the version that finally worked doesn't live only in your head. No ingredient lists, no nutrition, ever. A home meal is a memory, not a meal plan.

A KEEPSAKE, NOT A FEED No followers. No star ratings to perform. No calorie counting, ever. Your notes stay yours — Tastelog never turns them into content. This is what a food app looks like when it's built to be kept, not scrolled.

WHAT YOUR APPETITE ADDS UP TO Your taste, set in type: a card composed from your own logged meals — the fun facts about your meals, the dishes you order, the places you go back to, the things you've loved, the person who has cooked for you most. No scores. No personality quiz. Just the facts your diary already holds, arranged until they look like you.

HUNGRY? PULL THE LEVER Open Today and give it a pull. Three dishes come up — some old loves, some hunches — each with somewhere nearby to eat it, every one weighed against the taste your diary has been building. Three pulls a day, and the table is empty again each morning.

BETTER WITH FRIENDS Tag the friend across the table — or the one who cooked — and the memory lands in their diary too, where they can like it, write on it, and share it on. A gift, not a post: the dinners you share become something you both keep. Read each other's taste cards. And when the group can't decide, tap everyone at the table before you pull the lever: it reads all of your diaries at once and deals only what nobody is lukewarm about. The hardest question a group of friends asks, finally answered by something that knows all of you.

YOUR WHOLE DELICIOUS MAP Every place you've ever logged, pinned on one map. It remembers what guidebooks can't: where you were happy.

AND THE SMALL THINGS DONE RIGHT • A calendar of everything you ate, month by month — your year in meals, one page at a time. • Search the way you remember: "that quiet pasta place", "dinner with Mei" or "Mom's dumplings" all work. • Tell it what's off the table, and it never lands on your plate again. • On This Day brings back meals you'd forgotten you loved.

Your last thousand meals deserved better than a camera roll. Your next thousand start here.

Tastelog — the meals worth remembering.