Solari turns 47 saved Instagram recipes, your family’s actual taste, and the schedule of a real week into a meal plan that’s already 70% right the moment you ask for one. You spend 90 seconds tweaking. The grocery list builds itself.
Solari does the cold start. The hardest, most brain-melting part of the week, staring at a blank planner, is gone before you open the app. You arrive to a draft, not a void.
Drag any night, swap to a saved recipe, route Sunday’s roast into Wednesday’s lunch. You always win the disagreement. Defaults are starting points, never contracts.
As you tweak, the list builds itself, organized by aisle, sharable in a tap. You finish reviewing and the week is, quietly, already handled.
Ask anytime. Sunday afternoon, Friday lunch, the moment the week comes into focus. Solari drafts the week. You review what fits, swap what doesn’t, and it’s set.
Whenever you’re ready. Sunday afternoon, Friday lunch, a quiet Tuesday. One gentle nudge if you forget.
Built from your saved recipes, your family’s ratings, and your kid's mushroom moratorium.
Drag, swap, route a leftover, mark a takeout night. The plan bends to your week, not the other way around.
Aisle-sorted. Quickly remove things you know you already have. Send the rest in text, notes, or your delivery service of choice.
Quiet by default. Minimal notifications. No streaks, no shame copy, no Tuesday morning “don’t forget!”
We do one thing: Meal Planning. Done with care. Not a chore tracker. Not a calendar. Not a family OS.
The product is the marketing. We don’t shout “AI-powered.” We just deliver a week that worked.
We propose, you decide. Every suggestion is accept, reject, or modify. You always win the disagreement.
Small acts of intention. Something as simple as a Saturday dessert or the sentimental meatloaf is all it takes to create a special moment and connection.
“It’s just one less thing to have to worry about. Putting a plan together for a week in two minutes is somehow exciting.”
“This has actually made me cook again.”
Less than a month of takeout. Cancel anytime. No upsells, no add-ons, no “premium tier” we’ll quietly ship next year.
A note: pricing is the plan. Solari isn’t live yet, so nothing to buy today. Get on the invite list and you’ll be among the first to try it.
To soothe, to comfort. The same root as the English word solace. A small relief. The exact feeling of dinner being handled before you sat down to think about it.
A sunny disposition. From sole. The sun-warmed kitchen, the family at the table, the small Saturday cake on the counter. It's why we plan.
I’m building Solari quietly, with a small group of testers. Drop your email and you’ll be among the first to try it when it’s ready.
I’ll send you a note when Solari is ready for you to try. I look forward to taking dinner off your plate!
If anything ever feels off, reply to that email. A real person (me) reads them.
Twenty years in tech. Two kids. Two chaotic parent work schedules and travel. The daily spiral about what's for dinner is a cycle I’ve been stuck in for years, and the apps that promise to fix it tend to add more work than they remove.
So I’m building the one I wished existed. A thing that does its job and gets out of the way. The whole pitch is in the slogan: take dinner off your plate.
If that resonates, get on the invite list. If you have thoughts, I’d love to hear them.
Jeremy Powers