First Impressions Are Sticky

First Impressions Are Sticky

Why guests decide how they feel before they ever eat.

Read time: (about as long as it takes a guest to make up their mind)

The food hasn’t arrived yet, and the decision is already underway.

Not because guests are picky.
Not because they’re critics.
Because they’re human.

And in 2025, first impressions don’t fade. They stick.

The First Three Touchpoints (Whether You Like It or Not)

The moment a guest walks in, three things happen fast:

  1. They take in the room
  2. They’re greeted by a person
  3. They touch the menu

That’s the opening sequence.

The food hasn’t arrived.
The kitchen hasn’t had a shot.
But the feeling has already started forming.

And once that feeling sets in, everything else either confirms it or has to fight against it.

Touchpoint One: The Room

Guests clock the room instantly.

Lighting.
Cleanliness.
Energy.
Music.
Noise level.
Whether it feels intentional or neglected.

They don’t analyze it. They absorb it.

If the room feels confident, and cared for, guests relax.
If it feels chaotic, random, or off, they brace themselves.

Touchpoint Two: The Greeting (This One’s Complicated)

This is where I want to be honest... and fair.

COVID did real damage to this industry.
Teams were stretched thin, guests were on edge, and operators were in survival mode. A lot of people never fully came back the same way.

I get that.

But somewhere along the way, the greeting changed.

“Hi, my name is…”
“Welcome in.”
“We’re happy you’re here.”

Quietly became:

“What would you like?”
“Two?”
“Sit anywhere.”

Not because staff don’t care.
Because everyone was exhausted.

This Isn’t About Blaming Staff

Customer service feels rare right now. Not because people are bad at their jobs, but because the standard softened during a really hard stretch.

And this is the tricky balance operators are living in:

You have to stand behind your team and protect the guest experience at the same time.

Those aren’t opposites.
They just require intention.

Supporting your team doesn’t mean lowering expectations.
It means setting clear ones and giving people the tools and support to meet them.

Why This Moment Still Matters

That first interaction sets the tone.

Guests don’t need fake enthusiasm.
They don’t need over-the-top hospitality.

They just want to feel:

  • Acknowledged
  • Oriented
  • Welcome, not tolerated

When that happens, guests relax.
When it doesn’t, they stay guarded.

And guarded guests don’t linger for one more drink.
They don’t forgive small misses.
They don’t rush to come back.

Touchpoint Three: The Menu (Yes, This Is Personal)

I’m going to spend a little more time here, because, well... I have a lot to say about it.

And I’m going to admit something. I hate dirty menus.

Not mildly dislike.
Not “that’s annoying.”
I hate them.

I once worked with a company that had twelve venues. And when I walked into a location, the staff didn’t panic because I was scary. Well… maybe a little.

They panicked because they knew exactly what I was going to pick up first.

The menus.
Every time.
Every visit.

Servers would literally run.
Old menus got tossed.
Wrinkled ones disappeared.
Sticky ones were thrown away on sight.

They even gave me a nickname, They called me the menu nazi.

Not because I wanted control, but because I refused to accept that something every single guest touches could look neglected. This is easy stuff. This is what opening checklists are for. When it gets missed, it is not an accident, it is carelessness. And carelessness sends a message. It tells guests you did not think about what you are putting in their hands or how your brand is being represented in one of the most basic moments of the experience.

That is not being picky. That is standards.


Why I Care (And Why You Should Too)

The menu isn’t just paper.

It’s the first physical contract you make with a guest. It represents your care, your standards, your brand and the level of attention you bring to the experience.

A dirty menu isn’t a miss. It’s a signal.

When a menu is sticky, torn, faded, or outdated, guests don’t think,
“They must be busy.”

They think,
“This place doesn’t pay attention.”

That judgment happens instantly, not because guests are harsh, but because this is basic. This is table stakes. This is something that should never make it onto the table in the first place.

Once that signal is sent, everything else has to work harder to earn trust back.

That moment quietly sets the ceiling for everything that follows.

Over-Designed Menus Are a Problem Too

Now let me say the other part out loud.

Design matters.
Brand matters.

I say this as someone who’s been an art director. But over-designed menus hurt just as much.

A menu is not a poster.
It’s not a mood board.
It’s not a chance to show off how clever you are.

It’s a tool.

When Design Gets in the Way

I see menus all the time that are:

  • Too dark to read in low light
  • Too small to read without squinting
  • Packed with fonts that don’t belong together
  • So minimal you can’t tell what anything is
  • So clever you have to ask questions

That’s not elevated. That’s exhausting. Guests shouldn’t have to work to understand what they’re ordering. If they’re squinting, flipping pages, or asking the server to translate the menu, you’ve already added friction.

And friction kills confidence.

Standards Beat Style Every Time

Good menu design isn’t about trends.
It’s about standards.

Things like:

  • Clear hierarchy
  • Logical alignment
  • Font sizes people can actually read
  • Enough contrast to work at night
  • Clean spacing
  • Consistency across pages

None of that is sexy. All of it matters.

Because clarity beats clever every single time.

Placement Is Strategy, Not Decoration

What you put on a menu and where you put it is a business decision.

Menus have real estate. And guests do not read them. They scan them.

They:

  • Start at the top
  • Linger in familiar zones
  • Skip dense sections entirely

Your highest-margin items should not be hiding.
Your signature dishes should not get lost in a wall of text.

And while we are here, a giant logo on the menu rarely makes sense.

Guests are already sitting in your restaurant.
You do not need to scream at them.

Your brand belongs in the styling, the voice, the colors, and the consistency.
Not by overpowering the page. Good menus guide. They help guests feel confident ordering, not pressured, confused, or talked at.

The Reality Check

Guests don’t separate the experience.

They don’t compartmentalize:

  • Atmosphere
  • Service
  • Menus
  • Music
  • Food

It all blends into one feeling. And that feeling forms fast.

The food is the prize.
It’s what seals the deal.
It’s what turns a good visit into a return visit.

But it only gets that chance if everything before it says,
“You’re in good hands.”

When the opening feels careless, the food doesn’t get to shine.
It has to work uphill, fighting doubt instead of building delight.

And that’s not fair to the kitchen.
Not to the team putting in the hours.
Not to the product you’re proud of.

First impressions don’t just set the tone. They decide how generous guests are willing to be with the rest of the experience.

Get the opening right, and the food gets to do what it’s supposed to do.

Coming up next:

Why Customer Service Feels Rare Right Now

This is the question I hear most, even when people don’t say it out loud.

— Back to service.