The camera, not a form
Every other conversion app makes you type the numbers in. Pointing at the page is the difference between using it mid-recipe and not bothering.
Convert — point the camera at a recipe and get the numbers you actually need: cups to grams, °F to °C, a recipe for four scaled to seven. No typing while your hands are covered in flour.
Fridge — a running list of what you have and what's about to go off, so dinner starts from what's in the house instead of a blank stare into a cold box.
Two problems that live in the same room.
Mid-recipe friction. Recipes are written in whatever units the author grew up with. Converting means putting down what you're holding, unlocking a phone with a knuckle, and searching. Every single time. The interruption is small and it happens constantly.
"What's for dinner?" — and the food that dies waiting for an answer. Households throw out a real share of what they buy, mostly because nobody knew it was in there or that it was turning. The decision gets made at 6pm, tired, staring into a dark box of forgotten containers.
The reliable half. Ships first.
All of it runs on your device, offline, free. Reading printed numbers is a solved problem and conversion is arithmetic — no reason for either to need a signal or a subscription.
The half that saves money. Follows Convert.
Every other conversion app makes you type the numbers in. Pointing at the page is the difference between using it mid-recipe and not bothering.
Big type, screen stays awake, readable at arm's length with wet hands. An iPad propped on a kitchen counter is a genuinely underserved surface.
No account, no signup, no waiting on a connection in a kitchen with thick walls.
No feeds, no followers, no accounts, no sharing. It's a tool for the twenty seconds you need it, then it gets out of the way.
Convert ships on its own and stands on its own. Fridge follows as a separate release, because it's a harder problem and it deserves to be judged on its own rather than dragging the reliable half around with it.