Nobody carries a docket, nobody shouts the drinks order across the pass, and nobody re-types anything. The round a waiter fires arrives in the kitchen and at the bar simultaneously, already separated.
How the split happens
Every item on your menu carries its own station — kitchen, bar, or both. When a waiter fires a round, each line goes to the screen that makes it. A table that orders two som tam, a pad kra pao and three beers produces a kitchen ticket with three dishes and a bar ticket with three beers, from one action, with no one deciding anything.
An item that belongs to both stations appears at both. A cocktail that needs a garnish plated in the kitchen, a dessert that needs a pour — the line is copied to each station rather than being assigned to one and hoped about. Each copy is bumped by the station that finished it.
Nothing arrives unfired. A guest ordering from their phone creates a request, not a ticket. It waits in the floor view until a staff member fires it. That gate is what makes self-ordering safe to put in front of the public, and it is also what stops a mis-tap becoming forty baht of wasted prep.
On the screen
Every ticket shows how long it has been waiting, and gets louder as it waits. The question “how long has table nine been standing there” has an answer on the wall instead of an argument.
One tap clears a ticket. The floor sees it as served without anyone walking over to say so, and the guest’s own phone updates.
No chilli, extra shot, half pint, allergy notes — on the ticket, in the language the station reads, not abbreviated into something ambiguous.
A round can be held rather than fired, so starters land before mains. The kitchen gets them when the waiter decides, not all at once.
Which table, which round, and who fired it. When something goes wrong, the trail is on the ticket rather than in someone’s memory.
Screens hold an open connection to the server, so a fired round appears immediately rather than at the next refresh. There is no reload button anybody has to remember.
What you need
The kitchen screen runs in a browser, so anything with a screen and a network works: a cheap tablet on a stand, an old laptop, a monitor on the wall with a mini PC behind it. There is no proprietary terminal to buy from us, and no margin taken if you buy one anywhere else.
If the kitchen is in the same room as the bar, one screen can show both stations and you can stop reading here. The split still happens underneath, so the day you separate them you change a setting rather than a workflow.
Printers are supported and not required. A docket printer at the pass works if that is what your kitchen is used to. We default to screens because paper is the thing that gets lost, gets wet, and cannot tell you how long the ticket has been sitting there — but a kitchen that has run on paper for fifteen years is allowed to keep running on paper.
Screens depend on your network the same way everything else does. If the venue’s line goes down, the pass stops receiving new tickets — which is one more reason we would rather set you up with a 4G router as automatic backup than tell you it never happens.
Keep reading
Not a demo account full of invented data — a live venue on a Friday night, taking real orders. Bring your menu and we’ll have it on screen before you leave.
Tell us a little about your venue and we’ll arrange a time to show you the system running during real service.
We generally reply within 24 hours.
Anything at all — pricing, migrating off your current till, whether we fit a venue like yours. A real person answers.
We generally reply within 24 hours.