Handsplease One record. One bill.
The whole restaurant.
Talk to us

Two ends of a week are written down. The week is not.

Your invoices say what arrived. Your register says what sold.
The hours between decide your margin, and nobody writes them down.

Three moments in a day. Two get recorded.

  • A gloved hand signing a delivery slip on a steel counter. Morning

    A truck arrives and somebody signs for it

    Short cases and substitutions go into the same signature.

  • Chopped onion on a board at a prep counter, pots behind it. The rest of the day

    The food becomes work

    Trimmed, thawed, prepped, comped, thrown out. None of your systems can tell expected waste from food that went missing.

  • Hands counting cash out of a register drawer. Close

    The register says what it says

    The difference is called variance. One number for a hundred causes.

A report reads what was recorded. The middle was not.

An inventory screen headed 'What Sunday's count is worth'. The largest thing on it reads '$2,420 settled across 33 of these lines', and one line that stops at a written quantity and reaches no value is drawn hatched among the solid marks. Below, each item with what was counted and what it is worth: black Assam tea, one case, hatched; boba cups, three cases, $225.00; chicken breast, two cases, $180.00.
Sunday's count, worth $2,420. 33 of 34 lines reach a value, and the one that does not is marked.

Every screen on this page is the product itself.

Now ask that shelf what went missing since the last count. Nobody can say. What came in, got used or got thrown out was never written down. A loss with nothing logged against it is not theft and not a miscount.

A kitchen screen for Monday service at 4:09 PM. No tickets on the pass. Incoming reads '4, at least' beside a hatched mark, with a note: the feed does not report its own completeness, so a dropped order is a missing ticket rather than a late one.
Nothing on the pass, and incoming reads 4, at least. A delivery app does not report an order that never reached the kitchen. So four may be more, and the page says so.
The home page. Good afternoon Marie, over a photograph of a kitchen, dated Monday, September 14. A dark card reads 50 things need you, and all 22 apps you hold were asked what is waiting. Beside it, what is going stale: ten this month, fifteen older, and 23 more with no date. Below, one card per application in its own color. Menu and Pricing, over photographs of rice, two chia cups and milk tea, reads 18 dishes ring at a price the board does not show, with a Set a price button. Inventory reads 111. Labor lists cards with no rate and shifts with no punch. Production reads 61. Financial Close lists what is left before the day closes. A second Menu and Pricing card, over mango mousse, mochi, a breakfast roll and matcha, reads 13 dishes cost more than 30% of their price.
Every morning, one page. Each app says what is waiting, with the next step on a button.

The same gap, with real goods. Cream cheese at twelve by three-pound tubs. Whole milk at four by one gallon. Jasmine rice in a fifty-pound bag. The recipe cards and the order guide share nothing but a typed name, so no card reaches a price until a person pairs them.

What three operators' paperwork showed

The money is not on the invoice. It is between the documents.

  • Nine real invoices, one operator

    Almost nothing to recover

    5 of 348 lines carry a delivery discrepancy. 2 of 348 fail their own arithmetic. This cuts against us, so it goes first.

  • One month of payables

    $7,487 moved between two versions of one export

    28.8 percent of one month's payables. $4,700 of it was already out the door, twenty-five days before anybody noticed. The operator caught it by hand, twenty-five days late.

  • Fourteen findings across three operators

    Eleven of them are not savings

    Figures you run the business on that cannot be trusted.

Every one of the fourteen needs more than one document.

What closing the gap takes

A page where each job happens, small enough to use standing up.

The dock is purchasing's. The walk-in is inventory's. The pass is the kitchen's.
Separate apps, separate buyers, one record they all write to.

What it does, and where to start →
Today's prep. A dark card reads 34 batches need a decision, for the week to September 12. Below, Black Tea Base, marked: the batch size is in question. Each cup takes 14 oz and a batch makes 116 oz, and until the batch size is settled nothing can count how many batches a week takes. A button reads See what goes in.
Today's prep, and where it stops. A batch it cannot count says why, with the next step in the row.

For investors: how the category is built

What each system is built around, and where it stops.

How the category is built →

The middle of your week is the only part nobody sells you software for.

It happens at the dock, in the walk-in and at the pass, not at a desk.