Start with respect, because the comparison is not a contest
Paprika is the app that proved a recipe keeper does not have to be rented: a dependable importer, real one-time pricing, and years of steady service to people who cook every night. If you are a solo cook building your own collection, it remains a fair recommendation and nothing below is an argument against it.
The useful question is not which is better. It is which job you are actually doing this month — because the answer changes what "good" means.
What a recipe manager is optimised for
A manager's subject is this week. Paste a link, plan the dinners, generate the shopping list, cook from the phone with the screen awake and a timer running. Its unit is a recipe you might make; its measure of success is whether tonight went smoothly.
Everything follows from that. The collection is one person's, sync is one account's, the interface is optimised for finding something to cook, and the natural shape of sharing is sending a recipe to somebody. That is not a limitation — it is the correct design for the job it is doing.
What a family cookbook is optimised for
A keepsake's subject is the next forty years, and its unit is not a recipe — it is a card that somebody wrote by hand, with a person behind it. That changes four things at the root.
Provenance becomes a first-class field rather than a note: whose it was, where it came from, when it appears. The photograph of the original sits with the transcription instead of being an attachment. Sharing means a copy that becomes irrevocably your brother's, rather than a seat in your account. And the output is not a screen at all — it is a set, printed, bound object that outlives every device in this comparison.
The genuinely awkward part
Neither shape does the other's job well, and anyone telling you their program is both is selling. A keepsake makes a mediocre weeknight assistant: it is not trying to build your shopping list or plan Thursday. A manager makes a poor heirloom: it will hold your grandmother's recipe perfectly and has nowhere to put your grandmother.
The honest advice is that plenty of households want both, that they cost less together than the years of typing either one saves, and that the order matters — the cards have a deadline and this week's dinners do not.
Choosing between them, plainly
Choose a recipe manager if what you need is import, meal planning, a shopping list and a cooking screen, the collection is essentially yours, and the recipes come from the internet.
Choose Heirloom if what you have is a tin of index cards in somebody's handwriting, the collection belongs to a family rather than a person, and the object you actually want at the end of it is a book on a shelf. One payment of $29.99 — a keepsake, not a service; recipes stay yours, on your device; and it does not stop working if the company does.