They order a nine-inch Margherita on thin crust, olives, extra cheese twice over, no onion — and a garlic bread five minutes after that. Four things have to agree on that one line in a Kochi pizzeria: the price, the chit that reaches the oven, the mozzarella that comes off the shelf, and the time the counter in Kakkanad just promised.
A size, a required crust and a counted number of topping portions. Built once as a choice group, attached to every pizza, and overridden on the one pizza that is different.
Nine-inch, twelve-inch, family — one dish carrying its sizes, not a dish per size.
Sizes are portion options on the item: each is a name and a price adjustment, so a nine-inch and a twelve-inch are two prices on one pizza rather than two dishes you keep in step by hand. The size is a real thing on the order line, which is what lets the recipe and the deals below both see it.
Enforced once, refused everywhere.
A choice group is required or optional and single-select or multi-select, with a minimum to select. Crust is the required single-select one, and a required group is enforced when the order is created — so the counter, the storefront and the WhatsApp chat all refuse a pizza with no crust on it, rather than three screens each remembering separately. Where a single-select group carries a default, it fills itself in when nothing was chosen.
Where the money in a pizzeria actually is.
The group carries a cap on how many different options may be taken and a separate cap on total portions, so “any four toppings, no more than six portions” is a rule the catalog holds rather than one the cashier remembers. Each option then carries its own price delta, a number of portions included at no charge, and a per-order quantity cap — which is what makes extra cheese twice over a priced, counted thing instead of a line somebody types beside the dish. An option can also be another menu item, priced at that item’s own menu price.
A group can also give portions away. A free allowance is a number of portions granted across the whole group — three toppings on the house, the fourth chargeable — and when it applies it is the cheapest remaining portions that are made free, decided the same way every time. Two guests who pick the same four toppings in a different order pay the same amount, which is not true of a rule kept in somebody’s head.
The group is built once and attached to every pizza, then overridden where one pizza differs: its name, whether it is required, its minimum, both caps and the free allowance all have a per-item override, and a single option can be switched off, repriced, re-capped or made the default on one pizza without touching the shared group. The paneer pizza takes the same topping group as the rest, with paneer already ticked. A whole group can be switched off at one branch.
Change the order afterwards and the line is rewritten whole rather than patched, because a line’s identity here is its entire configuration — a nine-inch thin crust with olives is not the same line as a nine-inch thin crust with olives and jalapeño. Only the net difference moves in stock. A dish can also cap how many of it one order may take, and the veg mark is three-state: veg, non-veg, or unmarked, where an unmarked dish prints no mark rather than a guessed one.
All of it is Menu & Catalog — built once, and the only place the counter, the storefront and the chat look.
A pizza takes its eight to twelve minutes whether it is alone on the order or fourth in a row of four. Four pizzas and a garlic bread is not five prep times added up.
The promised ready time comes off the item with the longest prep time on that ticket. The branch’s own base prep time is the fallback and is used only when no line carried one, so the promise follows the bake rather than the bill. The Live Operations screen reads kitchen load straight off the prep minutes already sitting on the order lines — nobody scores the menu by hand for it.
From about eight on a Friday in Vyttila, the queue in front of the oven is longer than the queue at the counter, and every promise made after that has to move with it. A manager with the permission puts the branch into busy or critical; nothing here watches the oven and slows itself down. Busy adds fifteen minutes and critical adds thirty, both settable per location. The buffer reaches every channel the branch sells on — delivery, pickup, Express Pickup and the POS in front of the cashier — and it stretches the stored promised ready time, not just the number a guest is shown. Neither mode gives the guest a reason for the longer wait, and critical additionally switches Express Pickup off.
Stopping altogether is a different decision and is treated as one. Pausing, closing or going offline demands a typed reason, which is audited and posted to the operations timeline; a pause can be limited to named channels, and a pause whose end time has passed lets the branch trade again rather than leaving it shut until somebody notices.
The configuration, not the dish name.
Chosen options print under their own line, with the quantity where more than one was taken — + Extra Cheese x2 — so the chit says what to build. An allergy alert prints in bold between two rules with the tags and the guest’s own note, and a line can carry up to ten tags and that note: a wheat allergy arrives in bold, not in the margin. The garlic bread somebody adds five minutes later prints as a supplement ticket, not the whole order over again.
The queue, the chit and the promise are Counter & Orders.
A recipe row can sit on the base dish, on one size, or on one topping. That is the only arrangement in which a twelve-inch and a second portion of cheese cost what they actually cost.
Dough is made and proved before service; mozzarella is the thing you run out of at nine. Because a recipe row can apply to a specific size, a twelve-inch draws more dough than a nine-inch without a second recipe; because a row can apply to a specific topping, the extra cheese has its own gram weight instead of being invisible. An ingredient on a recipe can itself be another menu item, up to three levels deep — dough inside base inside pizza — and a branch can hold its own version of a recipe, which beats the organisation-wide one at that branch and never applies anywhere else.
From those rows the platform works out how many more of a dish the branch can still make, names the ingredient that limits it, and nets off safety stock before it counts. Where the organisation has switched it on — it is off until somebody does — a dish whose required base ingredient reaches zero disables itself at that branch on a flag of its own, separate from the manager’s manual switch, so a hand-flipped toggle and an inventory fact never overwrite each other. When the block is finished, the pizzas carrying it stop selling at the counter, on the storefront and inside the chat at the same moment, because all three read one catalog.
Every ingredient row also carries a wastage percentage that lifts the effective quantity, and therefore the plate cost — the trim on a block of cheese is in the number rather than in somebody’s estimate. Waste and expiry are entered per item with a reason of up to three hundred characters and always reduce stock, whichever way the figure is signed.
Flour, cheese and tinned tomato come from a small number of suppliers and arrive short often enough to matter. Receiving is entered at the quantity that actually came through the back door, line by line, and a count later sets the counted figure beside the book figure. That is the unglamorous part that makes the plate cost above worth reading at all.
Most orders fit in a line of text. A size, a required crust and four toppings does not — which is why the chat asks the option groups one at a time.
WhatsApp ordering walks the guest through the menu by category and then asks each dish’s option groups in turn. That is the only shape a text conversation can take and still produce a complete pizza; a single free-typed line produces an order somebody at the counter has to ring back about. At the end of it they choose pickup, delivery or dine-in where the branch allows it, and confirm. There is nothing to install and no account to make — the order is filed against the phone number and opens on the same order list the counter works from.
The storefront sits on your own domain in your own colours, rather than as the fourth pizzeria down somebody else’s list, and the Express Pickup QR printed for the counter lets a guest order and pay ahead from where they are standing.
Scheduling is what an office lunch needs. A guest can place an order from one hour to three days ahead and staff can schedule from five minutes ahead — twelve pizzas for an Infopark team, collected at one o’clock rather than made now. A scheduled order is deliberately exempt from the busy-kitchen buffer, because how hard the oven is working tonight says nothing about the kitchen at one o’clock tomorrow. Dine-in and the in-store QR cannot be scheduled at all.
Which is a question an owner genuinely cannot answer by looking at the menu board.
Menu engineering splits your dishes on median volume against median margin. In a pizzeria that split says something you could not otherwise see, because the margin does not live in the price of the pizza — it lives in which sizes people take and which toppings they put on top. Nothing there is projected: every figure is counted, ranked or trended from orders already recorded, with one date range and branch filter carried across the tabs.
Daily deals are shaped like pizzeria offers and not much else on the platform is: buy X and get a named item free, spend over an amount and get a named item free, or — while a qualifying pizza is in the cart — a named add-on at a fixed price or a percentage off, capped at the qualifying quantity. Garlic bread at a fixed price with any large, up to as many larges as are in the cart. Each deal is set on one branch, on the weekdays you choose, between a start and an end time: the Tuesday offer, the three-to-six lull.
Somebody else’s page will promise you the first one on this list. It is worth knowing which of these you can trade without before you buy, rather than in month two.
If one of those is the thing your kitchen actually runs on, put it on the form below — it is how we decide what to build next.
In the order they matter to a pizzeria, which is not the order anybody else would put them in. Everything else on the platform is there when you want it.
Categories, sections, choice groups and imports — one catalog every channel reads.
Punch the bill at the counter and the kitchen copy prints with it, on one order record.
A recipe behind each dish, stock off the shelf as it is billed, margin on every plate.
Guests browse the menu and order inside a WhatsApp chat. It lands in your order list.
Your own ordering site, on your domain: menu, online checkout and Express Pickup QR.
Points on the bill, milestones, coupons, daily deals, and campaigns that announce them.
Purchase orders, supplier receiving and stock counts that reconcile to the shelf.
Executive, location, menu, workforce and customer dashboards over one dataset.
Tell us about your restaurant and the workflows you want to launch first.
We will take one dinner rush the whole way — ring a bill, print the KOT, call the token, mark the payment, dispatch the order, pay the agent and read the day close. On your menu, with your zones, in about thirty minutes.