Photograph a card
Point the camera at the card — even the faded, splattered ones. Kouzina reads the handwriting into ingredients and steps, and keeps the photo with the recipe.
They’re on a splattered index card in your mother’s drawer, in a group chat from 2019, in your aunt’s head. Kouzina gathers them into one private cookbook the whole family builds and cooks from — kept exactly as they were written, for good.
Every family has a shoebox. Cards in three different hands. A page torn from a magazine with a note down the side. The cake nobody wrote down because Mum just knows it. It doesn’t search, it doesn’t scale, and it’s one house move from gone.
Kouzina is one private cookbook for the whole family. Everyone you invite adds to it, everyone cooks from it, and none of it is public.
Three ways in. Each one lands as a draft beside the original, for you to check before it’s saved.
Point the camera at the card — even the faded, splattered ones. Kouzina reads the handwriting into ingredients and steps, and keeps the photo with the recipe.
The recipe in the family chat, the email from your aunt, the note on your phone. Paste it in and it becomes a recipe, ingredients and method sorted out for you.
The one good recipe from that blog, with its photo. The pop-ups and the life story stay behind.
Nothing is tidied, converted or “improved”. If the card says a knob of butter, the recipe says a knob of butter — in the family’s own words, with the original kept alongside.
The photo of the original card stays with the recipe, so you can always see how she wrote it. Record her explaining the part that was never written down — how the dough should feel, how you know it’s done — and the recording is kept with the recipe for whoever cooks it next.

Invite the family and they’re in — parents, cousins, the one who moved away. Every recipe says who added it and where it came from. Sections, search and favourites keep it easy to find. When a friend asks for the recipes, hand them a read-only link to the cookbook — and switch it off whenever you like.

Big type, the next step peeking, a timer in the header, and the screen stays awake. Tick off ingredients as they go in. Cooking for a bigger table? Pinch to scale and every quantity follows.

Print the whole cookbook whenever you like, photos and all, every recipe with who it came from. Give it at Christmas; keep one in the kitchen drawer. Your recipes are never locked up: everything you put in, you can take out.
Yiayia’s recipe in her own hand, and beside it the same recipe in the grandchildren’s language. Greek first, because that’s where our family is. The original never changes — the translation sits alongside it.
14 days free, then $39 a year for everyone
Cancel anytime. If you stop paying you keep reading and printing everything; only editing pauses.
Families with recipes worth keeping and nowhere good to keep them. The person who ends up holding the shoebox after a clear-out. The one abroad who wants to cook what home tastes like. Anyone who has ever photographed a card and then lost the photo.
Completely. Your cookbook has no public pages, no feed, no followers and no ads. The only people who can see it are the ones you invite. If you share the cookbook by link, that link shows a read-only copy of the recipes — text only, no photos, no names — and you can switch it off at any time.
We never use your recipes, photos or recordings to train anything. Read the privacy policy — it’s short.
Fidelity. Recipe apps tidy, convert and “improve”. Kouzina keeps the recipe the way the family says it — the odd units, the “you’ll know when” — with the original card and her voice kept alongside. It’s a cookbook for one family, not a library for everyone.
You keep reading. Every recipe, photo and recording stays where it is, and you can still print the whole book. Adding and editing pause until you come back. Recipes that were meant to outlast websites shouldn’t be held hostage by one.
Yes, any time. Print the whole cookbook to PDF, photos included, and keep it wherever you like. The text is yours; nothing about Kouzina is a lock.
You can write recipes in any language today. Reading a recipe in a second language — Yiayia’s Greek beside the grandchildren’s English — is coming, Greek first. The original always stays exactly as written; the translation sits beside it.
Yes. One tap prints the whole cookbook to PDF with every photo and who each recipe came from, ready for the printer or the print shop. Print one recipe for the fridge, or the whole book for Christmas.
In the browser on any phone, tablet or computer today — open the web app. iPhone and Android apps from the App Store and Google Play are coming soon; the waiting list hears first.
I built Kouzina for my own family. My wife Irene’s family are in Greece, and the recipes that matter most to her — her mother’s — have never lived anywhere but on cards and in people’s heads. I wanted one place where all of us, here and there, could keep those recipes exactly as they were given and cook from them. Not a recipe website; the family’s own cookbook, kept properly. If that sounds like your family too, I’d love you to join us.
— Jeff, Kouzina