What happens when a up and coming chic restaurant has sex with a web designer who is trying get his rocks off with a two Michelin star establishment?
Why in god’s name would I want to frequent or even visit a restaurant that is playing music akin to Kenny G from the 80s and has a website that is as easy to navigate as a one way street in suburbia hell?
My demands are simple:
- Menu with prices (don’t pull some call the restaurant shit with me, if you are charging 55$ for a pot roast I damn well want to know what I am getting myself into)
- Location with map (dress it up if you want to, but make damn sure that I don’t have to call NASA to circumnavigate me across 6th street in order to find the dark alleyway that you tucked your speakeasy restaurant away in)
- General contact information (hours, phone numbers, reservation links to Open table, etc. Please do not make it so I have to click on some pig’s face or scroll through a bunch of polarized shots of your line cooks during service just so I can call you and tell you how much you piss me off)
- Some promotional banter like some crazy Groupon that gives me 100$ in food for 5$
- MAYBE just MAYBE a few pictures of your food, assuming of course you don’t make me scroll through pictures of the owners snogging with Sarah Jessica Parker just so I can see what your foie gras looks like
That’s it, nothing less, and sure as hell nothing more.
I don’t want a website that is reminiscent of the offspring of a crack house resident that had intimate relations with a unicorn.
But yet, it never ceases to amaze me that restaurant websites always come up with some new way of pissing me off.
From 40s era movie intros to a play by play video commentary by the head chef. If I wanted to watch television and see John Elway help score a touchdown, I would park my ass at Fuddruckers and call it a day.
Maybe I should blame Apple and all their damn flashy ad campaigns, or better yet, let’s set fire to every major ad agency on the planet until all that is left is re-runs of ads for Michael Jackson from the 80s. Our children would once again be scarred for life but at least we would have big hair and orderly websites.
At the end of the day, just meet my demands in the most minimalistic and easiest way possible and I promise you, the restaurant owner, that not only will you get more customers flooding in to sample your overpriced sashimi, you will severely decrease the chances of food and travel forums talking shit about how your website looks like a Jackson Polluck painting.