Shop safe. Eat well. Live better.

It started quietly. A gluten allergy. Then, a couple of years later, a celiac diagnosis. And with it, the slow realization that eating — something that's supposed to be simple, joyful, social — had become a daily exercise in vigilance.

Grocery shopping meant decoding labels that said everything and revealed nothing. Restaurants meant running a mental checklist before ordering. Dinner at a friend's place meant a familiar internal debate: ask the questions and feel like a burden, or say nothing and quietly go without.

That last part — the social cost — doesn't get talked about enough. There's a point where asking "is there gluten in that?" for the third time at the same table starts to feel like you're making yourself everyone else's problem. So you stop asking. You make do. You eat what you can, or you don't eat at all, and you tell yourself it's fine.

Long before PuroPlate existed, Tabbassum — Avi's wife — had quietly stepped in as his food safety scout. Reading menus before they arrived. Calling restaurants to ask the questions he was tired of asking. Finding safe products online before the cart was even open. Doing the diligence, carrying the load, so he could just eat without worry.

At some point, she stopped asking why nobody had built something better — and started building it herself.

And here's the thing — they weren't alone. In millions of American households, there's at least one person for whom every meal involves a little extra thought. Someone scanning a label in the grocery aisle. Someone texting the host ahead of a dinner party. Someone ordering last at the table because they needed to hear everyone else's choices first. It's not a crisis. It's just a quiet, persistent reality that shapes how they shop, how they eat, and how much mental energy goes into something that most people never have to think about twice. PuroPlate was built for that person — and for everyone at the table with them.