You photograph food. A model reads it against your whole day — what you have already eaten, what your days usually look like, what you say matters to you — and returns a judgement, not a calorie count. Then you decide, and press one of two equal buttons: ate it or skipped it. Both are just data.

Photo estimates are ±20–30%; formulas for your burn rate are ±10%. A display reading "−847 kcal" claims a precision the data cannot support, and once you notice it is wrong you stop trusting the instrument. "About nine hours" carries the same information and is honest about its own resolution. It is also more visceral: a currywurst with fries is not a number, it is most of a working day on the clock.

Everything you eat goes on the clock and burns off at your hourly rate. The red area is what is still outstanding; the amber dashed line is when it lands at zero. The ledger is continuous — midnight resets nothing, and an evening that does not clear shows up tomorrow as carry. Every meal keeps its full day on the clock; only excess that has survived a whole day and still exceeds a day of burn is written off — by then it is on the scale, which keeps those books. However rough the stretch, you are never more than about two clean days from zero.

Zero is break-even, not permission — there is deliberately no green anywhere. Fat comes off only during time spent at zero: hours at zero × your rate is the entire calculation. Eight hours a day at zero is roughly a kilogram a week. The teal band marks that time, and only time the log can vouch for — a quiet log banks nothing, because not logging is not fasting. A genuine fasting day still counts: weigh in that morning and the ledger knows you showed up.

It never forbids — it prices, in hours, and you decide. It never praises and never scolds: praise turns a state into something earned, and earned things get spent. There are no streaks and nothing to break. An exception is not a failure; it is a cost, paid off by the same arithmetic as everything else. The only real failure mode is the log going quiet.

Three activity levels set your rate for the day; sedentary is the default and the safe direction — the app understates your progress rather than flattering it. Exercise is never currency: movement lowers the curve but can never push it into credit. A morning weigh-in feeds two things: a smoothed weight trend (a record of the past, never a prediction) and, after a few weeks, calibration — which replaces every formula in here with your measured rate. Claim "trained" more than the scale supports and calibration quietly takes it back. The instrument becomes accurate by being used.

The four-word phrase is the whole account: same phrase, same log, on any device — no name, no e-mail, nothing to reset, and nobody can recover it for you. Photos are never stored: they are read once and dropped, and only the item name, the estimate, the reading and your decision persist, on a server in Germany. A reading sends the photo to the model for the moment of the read; nothing else ever leaves.

Readings run on Claude, using your own Anthropic API key — paste one into Setup (get it at console.anthropic.com). It is stored encrypted, used only for your readings, and a reading costs about a cent, a menu a few. Everything else — the clock, the history, the projection — is free and needs no key.

Red is food still on the clock. It burns off at your hourly rate, and midnight does not reset it — what is left carries into tomorrow.
Teal is time at zero, the only time fat is actually coming off. Zero is break-even, not permission; there is no green.
Hours, not calories: a currywurst is not "1000 kcal", it is most of a working day.