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Restaurants and cafes are striving to come up with new ideas and strategies to keep their offerings fresh, interesting, playful, and sustainable. However, a strategy that seems promising in theory can turn out to be quite different in practice. This piece is written based on personal experiences of exploring London’s beautifully quirky yet often puzzling restaurants and cafes.
Featured restaurants Monmouth Coffee, Farmer J market,
Disclaimer:
The content of this blog is based on my personal experiences and is purely subjective. It is intended for educational and informational purposes only and is not meant to criticize, offend, or harm anyone. My intention is to share perspectives and insights that may be helpful or thought-provoking, not to impose or generalize. Please read with an open mind and understand that your experiences may differ.
I go in to order my food. I see a lot of options displayed on the menu. I look down and I get the feeling that this kinda has a Subway system of making your meal. First they ask me what I’d like to have. Although I had worked there the entire morning shift, I stammer looking at the board trying to find ‘the options’. Then they ask if this was my first time there and had offered to verbally explain. Now, I am listening to the server explain me the whole concept (was kinda hard to understand the accent on top of the noise and music playing) while I become more anxious about the people that I am holding back. I kind of staring to break a sweat now that they have finish explaining and its my turn to tell them what I’d like. I see that there are two options ( two kinds of rice) while they verbally give me three options. I point at one of the rice and they fill my crate and move it a little to the right so I move as well. Now I have to pick one main while I see a million options. I look at some meat and point at them to add that to my plate. Now they ask me for a side while staying at the same place. I look at sweet potato and I want that. I look at my crate in their hand and got confused that only half of it is filled. I ask them for some sweet potatoes none the less.
Now after they add that, they put the tray and move on to the next person while my tray lay on the counter top for the next server to finish their previous order. Now this gives a breathing time for me to bend down below the counter and see what my next choices are. I barely could read 2 name tag in the front, while the rest is covered by the people standing. I take a step back and look up at the menu board to try and find these options on it. The next server with my crate in hand is already waiting for me to give her a command. I just blurt out “chickpea” and that’s the only things that I could recognise. Now the server gives me two or three more options while I learn forward to try and listen to them carefully after asking to repeat them for the third time. At this point I think to myself ‘I don’t care, please gimme my plate. I just want to eat’. The server looks annoyed while I point at different blows try to pronounce their names. She adds it in and passes the plate to the corner of the counter.
Credits: Google maps
Now here I am not even sure if I am to say something? will I be charged extra if I ask for the tiny bottles of sauce. My thoughts were overwritten by the people ahead of me talking to each other while they wait for their turn at the till. One goes “well that was nerve wracking” and the other giggles and nods in agreement. At this point I am relieved that I am not the only one sweating my feet out. My thoughts were interrupted by what sauce I wanted and neither could I figure their names nor how it would taste. I just refused and moved on to the join the line to the till in relief. That lasted for a milli second until my mind questioned if there was any item that was charged extra. They ask if I wanted anything to drink and I definitely would not mind having to soothe me. I turn towards the fridge right behind me, that I have been cleaning since morning during the shift and nodded at the till. Then he announces that I would be charged extra and would not be covered within the meal. Then I go “oh!” not knowing what all I have been charged extra already and then hit him with a “never mind then” and anxious waited for the bill. Turns out all of what I had picked WAS part of the meal. But wait, was the sauce also a part of the meal? Maybe I should have spent a little more time with the menu board? I step back to see the menu board that hung from the 15’ ceiling and is far behind the counter for me read through the tiny ALL CAPS Mid Century Sans words in bold.
Credits: Google maps
I do not recognise any names in the board. I look down at the food in my hand, I guess I am just gonna eat and worry about the menu when/if I ever come back.
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