What you type never leaves your device. Every one of these tools is compiled to WebAssembly and runs inside this browser tab. There is no server to send anything to, and none of them makes a network request while it works. You can open your browser's network panel and use any of them: nothing goes out.
It matters less here than for some of this workspace's applications and more than you might think. A dough formula is rarely secret; a recipe somebody has spent years on, the costings behind what a kitchen charges for a dish, and a week of meals for a named household often are, and none of it goes anywhere.
Each tool remembers your settings, and remembers your input while it is small enough
to be worth keeping, under about eight kilobytes. It is kept in your browser's own
localStorage, on your machine, and is never transmitted. That is worth
knowing before you paste a costing on a shared computer — clearing your browsing
data removes it, and a private window keeps nothing at all. Your chosen language and
theme are stored the same way.
No account, no sign-up, no cookies of our own, no analytics script, no fingerprinting, no error reporting. The pages carry no third-party JavaScript except the advertising described below.
These pages carry advertising, which is what pays for hosting them. An advertising network sets its own cookies and sees your IP address and the page you are on, in the same way it does on any other site. It does not see what you type into a tool: that text is never part of the page's markup and is never sent anywhere. If you would rather it saw nothing at all, an ad blocker breaks none of the tools.
Opening a file reads it into the tab's memory and no further. Saving a result writes it with your browser's own download mechanism. Neither passes through a server.
Nothing here knows what a banana weighs or what is in a slice of bread. A food table large enough to be useful is tens of megabytes — larger than this whole application — goes out of date the week it ships, and differs by country and by brand. A small one is worse than none: it answers confidently about the hundred foods it knows and says nothing about the rest, and you never see which of the two just happened. Every tool here takes its figures from the packet in front of you, which is the only source that describes what is actually in your pan.
A thermometer decides when meat is done; a clock only decides when to go and look. Roasting and thawing times depend on the shape of the joint, how cold it went in and how honest the oven is, and none of those is a number these tools have. Every tool that gives a time prints the published safe internal temperature beside it and says which of the two is the answer.
A recipe is arithmetic with tolerances in it, and the two halves are marked. A baker's percentage, a brine concentration, a dilution by weight, alcohol by volume from two gravities and a cost per portion are definitions, and those are given to the place they mean. A rising time, a portion size, a party appetite and an ingredient density are conventions, and every one of those says so on the result rather than looking like the first kind.
Some of these refuse rather than answering, and that is deliberate. The fermentation tool will not go below the salt concentration the published guidance sets, and says why. The hydration mix is a drink for a warm afternoon and is not an oral rehydration solution, and says so where somebody might reasonably confuse the two. The tools that divide by a portion refuse a portion of nothing rather than printing an infinity.
The same tools are also built as a desktop application. It has no network code at all — not for updates, not for anything — and stores its settings in one small file in your user configuration directory.
If this ever changes, this page changes with it, and the change will be visible in the project's history rather than announced quietly.