Cortado
A kitchen display
that measures itself.
Three lanes, one screen, and a countdown built from your own tickets rather than a number somebody typed once. Nobody double-makes a drink, the allergen sits on the line it belongs to, and at close you find out where the time went.
Runs standalone for a cafe or restaurant — and inside a co-working space when the counter belongs to one.
The number on the ticket
A cortado and a full breakfast
are not both eight minutes.
A countdown is only worth having if the number underneath it is real. Every item you finish leaves a duration behind, so the board reads the last thirty days of those instead of guessing: the median for that item, and if the item is too new to have one, the median for its section, and then for the counter. It says which of the three it used, every time — and when it has none of them, it says that too.
Medians, not averages. One ticket that sat on the pass while somebody signed for a delivery would drag an average up for a week. A median ignores the bad afternoon and still moves when the kitchen genuinely slows down.
The pass already knew.
Nothing in a kitchen is unmeasured — it just was not being written down. Every claim, every ready, every collection is a timestamp, and once you have those the board stops being a to-do list and starts being an instrument.
The board
Three lanes, and one person per ticket.
New, making, ready — each its own colour, so the state of the pass reads from across the room. Close a ticket and it leaves the board for a just-closed strip with the time it actually took. Take a ticket and it is yours: nobody else can start it, and your own work sorts to the top of the lane.
Paid, nobody on it yet
Margherita
Buttermilk stack nut allergy — no praline butter
Someone has taken it
Flat white they react to milk — oat, not dairy
Avocado toast
On the pass, waiting
Katsu curry
- One claim per ticket. Two people cannot start the same drink, the board says whose it is, and a manager can hand it on if someone walks away.
- The countdown is anchored to the server clock and ticks by the second, so every screen in the building agrees.
- The customer's name is on the ticket, so what comes out of the kitchen is handed to a person rather than a number.
- A photo of every item, because a new starter recognises a picture faster than they read a name.
Per line, not per order
"They react to milk" belongs on the drink.
An allergen warning stretched across a whole order tells the person making the toast to worry about the coffee. Here it sits on the line it is about, next to the item it changes — and it stays there from the moment the ticket fires until it leaves the board.
Flat white
Avocado toast
Flat white they react to milk — oat, not dairy
Avocado toast
Behind every line
The recipe is one tap away.
Ingredients and method sit behind each line on the ticket, so the person making it does not have to remember the build or go and ask. New starters get up to speed on the pass instead of in a folder nobody opens.
The front of the counter, too.
The board is one half. The till, the menu and what you charge for it are the other — and they are the same system, so a price change at eleven is on the board at eleven.
The counter till
Ring up a walk-up sale and it lands on the same board as everything else. One queue, whichever door the order came through.
A menu you build
Sections with their own serving windows, so breakfast stops being orderable at eleven without anyone remembering to switch it off. Photos and video on every item, uploaded in the builder, and modifier groups for the choices that change a build.
A code for the counter
One styleable QR code, downloadable as a PNG for table cards and window stickers, pointing at your menu. The cafe's own cover image, logo and mark go on what the customer sees, so it looks like your place rather than like software.
Happy hour, and every other window
Take a percentage off. Or an amount. Or set a price.
Point it at the whole counter, one menu, a section or a single item. Give it a recurring window — five to seven, Tuesdays, the first hour of service — and a campaign start and end so it switches itself off.
- Two sales never stack. The better one wins, once.
- A sale can never resolve to more than the menu price.
- Outside its window it simply is not there — no manual switch to forget.
The other half of service
Wrong item. Cold. Missed the allergen.
Write it down while you still know.
Log what happened and what you did about it — remade, credited, refunded, or nothing — and it is stamped with whoever made the item and the moment it happened. A month later the question "was Thursday night always like this?" has an answer instead of an argument.
After close
Takings, the rush, the best seller, and who was on.
What you took, when the room actually filled, what sold, who made it, and what went wrong. Not a dashboard for its own sake — the four questions you ask yourself at the end of a shift, answered from the tickets you already ran.
Two ways it runs.
On its own
A cafe, a coffee shop, a restaurant. The board, the till, the menu and the numbers, with nothing else attached — and a public menu page anyone can order from.
See what's in ProInside a co-working space
The counter belongs to the space, so members order from their desk, spend what they have earned, and the same board runs it.
Run a co-working spaceStraight answers
No. It runs standalone for a cafe or a restaurant, and it also runs inside a co-working space when the counter belongs to one — the same board, the same till, the same menu.
Your own tickets. Every completed item leaves a real duration behind, and the board takes the median of the last thirty days of them — per item first, then per section, then per counter if the item is new. It tells you which grain it used, so a number you are reading is never a number you have to trust blindly. A brand-new item says so rather than pretending.
Because one ticket that sat on the pass while somebody took a delivery would drag an average up for the rest of the week. A median ignores the one bad afternoon and still moves when the kitchen genuinely gets slower.
The claim. A ticket is taken by exactly one person, the board shows whose it is, and a second person trying to take it is refused rather than quietly queued behind them. Your own tickets sort to the top of the lane so you are looking at your work, not everyone else's. If someone walks away mid-service, a manager can release the ticket back to the lane.
No. A timed sale can take a percentage off, take an amount off, or set a flat price, and it never stacks with another one and never resolves to more than the menu price. If the maths would raise it, the menu price wins.
Which room is yours?
The same system, argued for the kitchen you actually run. Three minutes each.
Storyline
Or let us pitch you.
Three minutes each, and they are not feature lists — pick the one that describes you and we will make the case.
Open the board on your next service.
It starts with no history and says so. By the end of the week it is quoting your kitchen's own numbers back at you.
