Dining out is supposed to be simple: you sit down, look at the menu, order your food, and enjoy. But somewhere along the way, restaurants decided that clarity was boring and mystery was chic. Now, half the time I open a menu, I feel like I need a magnifying glass, a flashlight, and maybe a translator just to figure out what’s for dinner.
Let’s start with the fonts. Who decided that 8-point script, printed in gray ink on an off-white background, under candlelight, was a good idea? Yes, I’m getting older but I’m squinting so hard I look like I’m trying to crack a code. By the time I’ve deciphered the appetizers, my eyes are watering, and I’ve lost the will to eat.
And then there’s the dish names. Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate international cuisine, but sometimes the menu reads like a foreign language exam. Am I ordering pasta or a Harry Potter spell? The server comes by and suddenly I’m rehearsing pronunciations in my head, only to panic and point at the menu with a sheepish, “I’ll have this one.” Nothing says confident diner like playing the world’s least exciting game of charades.
Even when the names are readable, the descriptions can get out of hand. I don’t need a novella about where the mushrooms were foraged or the emotional journey of the cow that became my steak. Just tell me what it is and why I should eat it.
A menu should make me hungry, not stressed. If I need reading glasses, Google Translate, and a deep breath before ordering, something has gone wrong. Restaurants, take note: food is the star. Keep the menu readable, pronounceable, and mercifully short. Trust me, your customers will thank you.
John Berkovich Talks 