Menu Engineering: Emotion is an Ingredient

This post is part of a series to help you build a winning menu that will engage with your customers, assist your team and most importantly, drive your bottom line.

Using emotional touch points to describe your food is a sure-fire way of engaging your customers. They know chefs are passionate. They know it’s hot in the kitchen and tempers flare. They know chefs are great in bed. (I made that up. Patissier's are.) So why can’t we display some of that raw emotion on our Menu. After all, it’s a key ingredient in what inspired any dish in the first place; a memory, a concept, an occasion, or as a tribute or even to emulate perhaps.

If you ask any Chef what his all-time favourite dish is, invariably it’ll be something cooked by his Mother or Grandmother. Or where does he like to eat out on his night off? Again, I would lay good money on the choice being Indian or Chinese. So why on earth does that same Chef insist on handing us a shopping list of ingredients in any restaurant worth wearing a tie to. 

You know the Carte I’m talking about; weighted sheet, off-white, textured, say 200gsm and sparingly held together in some kind of bamboo or leather contraption. 5 Starters, 5 Mains, 4 puds and trolley of cheeses, at a supplement. Naturellement. And don’t be surprised if you find the price spelled out in longhand at the bottom. There is after all empirical evidence this will increase sales. Your eyes wander down the page and we’re back to that seemingly random list of things: 

Scottish halibut, fregola, blood orange, sea kale

Marcus Wareing

“What the hell is fregola?” “Sshh, the waiter’s coming?” That particular dish is taken from one of Marcus Wareing’s menus at The Berkeley. You can see the rest of it here. (And for the pedants: Times regular, 17 point and very sparing on the capitalization.)

Now, what’s worth mentioning at this point is - and I want to make this very clear - there is NOTHING WRONG with that style of menu. OK? I am not saying it is wrong. For Marcus Wareing, it is the culmination of many, many well thought out decisions and it works for his business. What I am saying is that we can’t ALL be Marcus Wareing and we don’t ALL have two Michelin stars to back up those little words he sprinkles sparingly around the page. 

So how should ‘the rest of us’ describe our menu choices? Let’s go back to that chair you are sitting in where your customer normally is. Now, imagine a very suave Italian (or French) Maitre d’Hotel describing the dish above to the lady next to you. Actually, if you’ve seen this in real life, it’s a thing of beauty - these guys really know how to turn on the charm. The Halibut could be described as ‘very light’ or ‘beautifully fresh’ (say it with the accent) or even ‘incredibly delicate’. The Fregola is from Sardinia, so again our Italian friend would invoke the beautiful sea breeze where his Mother used to make such a delicate pasta. The blood orange adds ‘zing’ and the sea kale gives it a beautiful ‘finishing touch’. Now you tell me... what have we learned about this dish? Nothing. Except my dining partner now wants to go to Sardinia with Señor Sassi and orders the fish just to make him happy. Sold! And the side to go with it.

If only we could take all that flirtatious charm and sprinkle it on every guest. Oh wait... by invoking the emotive power of language on our menu, WE CAN. 

So the next time you are writing your menu Chef, try to imagine standing AT THE TABLE and explaining the dish IN PERSON. Yeah. Use those words.

In my next post, I will share some of the winning words and phrases that have proven to drive sales in my business.

Menu Engineering: Selling the Sizzle

This post is part of a series to help you build a winning menu that will engage with your customers, assist your team and most importantly, drive your bottom line.

You most probably have a menu in use in your restaurant. You may even be very proud of that menu because it has been a labour of love. Good for you. Or you may have put something quick together as you dealt with consultants and contractors trying to get open on time, promising yourself to come back and improve it. Good, do it now. 

In any case, I want you to take a long hard look at your menu and start to think about it in detail. If someone has NEVER been in your restaurant before, what is this menu saying from the second they get it placed in their hands (or read it on the blackboard; or click it online). Is it beautifully weighted, to match the tablecloths? Is it brightly coloured to reflect the buzz of the place? Is it desktop-printed to reflect the freshness of the daily specials? Every menu is different, but they all have the same objective: to grab your customer’s attention and convince them that they have chosen the right place for spending as much as they can afford on this visit.

So where do you begin? The first thing I like to do is put myself in the chair of the customer. Things look awfully different from this perspective. You start to ask yourself, as a customer would, Why have I chosen this restaurant? Who owns this place? Who is serving me? (It could be the owner or is it part of a bigger chain.), Who’s cooking my food? What made you guys open this place? And now get someone to hand you your menu. How does it feel? What does it say about you as a customer? Do you feel valued by this business? 

Now, ask yourself this: where on your menu does it answer all these questions? This is where I think there’s an opportunity to ‘sell your story’. Raymond Blanc does it at Le Manoir. Peter Boizot did it at Pizza Express. Even Nandos do it. 

And they’re all pretty successful, so do YOU put an introduction on your menu? You know, something like... 

“Welcome to Peaches & Cream Restaurant, My husband Renoir and I had a vision of growing our own organic fruit and vegetables and thought wouldn’t it be fun to have a place where our friends could come over to taste the latest produce. Our Chef Antonio is passionate about letting the ingredients stand out in every dish he cooks. And don’t forget to leave some room for dessert. We wish you Bon Appetit, Candice” 

Suddenly, I feel I’ve just had a conversation with Candice…. She’s married to Renoir (is he French?…). They grow organic fruits and vegetables; Wow, how idyllic. It must taste amazing. They mention friends, so they must be popular. And they opened this for them? What a generous couple. Chef Antonio... nice name, sounds Italian - wonder if he looks like Antonio Banderos? Hey, perhaps the pasta is good. Simple food, the way I like it. Hmmm, 'leave some room for some dessert’ … interesting. I love dessert. I wonder if peaches and cream are on the menu? Bon Appetit? Why, thank you Candice. This is going to be a real TREAT!

So many assumptions based on such a short intro. But most importantly of all, you have moved the value proposition AWAY from cost and made it an emotional one. In other words you sell the sizzle, not the steak.

By sharing your story, you put your guest at ease and invite them in. Now they’re thinking ‘I’m going to browse this menu and see what else I can learn about my new-found friends. I’m starving…’ Now it’s time to bring on a very under-utilised sales opportunity: nibbles while you browse. Check in with my next post to find out more.

Sport Relief vs Tax Relief

It struck me that the Chancellor - every chancellor, I guess - must be pretty heartless when it comes to announcing a budget. No matter who he tries to please, there are always people on the other side of the fence who feel they got a raw deal. 

And so it was with the so-called ‘granny tax’, which wasn’t really a tax at all but the Red Tops didn’t focus too much on such details. What mattered to them was that ‘’little old ladies” were being screwed out of their hard earned cash while the fat cats in Downing Street retired to their subsidised bar for a snifter. And that sells papers.

Talking of bars, the licensed trade were incandescent with rage that Duty was sneaked in under the rather misleading statement of ‘no changes to duty rates’ when in fact it meant the 2%-above-inflation calculator would still apply from previous years. In real terms that means an additional 9p on the pint while the punter paying for it thinks there was no increase at all.

The problem with all this wringing of hands and gnashing of teeth at such injustice is that we can’t make a difference. Yes we can vote in a new government, who will happily provide more of the same. Or perhaps we can lobby for some changes, but this only moves the burden elsewhere. Perhaps we can start a movement...

But wait. Before the Chancellor can even begin to worry about such a backlash, he is given a massive get-out-of-jail-free card from the general public as a result of one frenzied night of overwhelming generosity. I am of course talking about Sport Relief and the amazing achievement of raising £50M during a frantic night of charity broadcasting. 

The worst thing that could have happened from Mr. Osborne’s perspective, would have been if Sport Relief had had a dismal disaster with worse-than-ever results to report on the night. Mr. Osborne would have woken up to headlines screaming their vindication that the economy was not working and that heads should roll. 

Alas that didn’t happen. In typical British form, we accept our lot, count our blessings by giving a little to charity and begrudgingly pay that little extra for our hard-earned pint down the pub.

Who can blame the Chancellor’s heartlessness, when the great British public has more than enough heart to go around?