A Kochi counter punches three hundred bills between 12:30 and 2:00 and another three hundred after seven, mostly the same twenty items. So a dish answers to a bare code on the numpad or the leading letters of its words, each required option is asked once, and the counter goes on taking money with the broadband down — for the queue in front of it, the QR beside it, your storefront, a WhatsApp chat and the road.
The cashier is standing up, using one hand, with somebody waiting. The whole job is the gap between a guest saying “two shawarma, one without garlic, parcel” and the kitchen having it on a chit.
Every item, category, section, choice group and choice option carries a short catalog code with a type prefix — I for an item, C for a category, G for a choice group — and a tenant can overwrite a generated code so it matches the numbering your counter already uses. At the till a bare number is enough: 204 resolves to I-204 and matches that code exactly, so typing 4 does not drag in every code with a 4 somewhere in it. A numpad has no letters, and this is the path that respects that. Codes are minted org-wide through an atomic counter, so two people adding dishes at once cannot land on the same one, and the POS reads them on an authenticated route rather than off the public menu.
The search at the counter matches staff shorthand against the item name. Classic Loaded Fries answers to clf, lf and f. 10 Piece Crispy Bucket answers to 10pcb, pcb, cb and b. Each word contributes a prefix of any length and the words consumed have to be consecutive, so cf does not pull Crispy and Fries across the gap between them. Nobody browses a menu grid for the twenty items that carry the day — they already know the dish and want it in the cart.
A choice group is single or multi select; required with a minimum number of selections; capped on distinct choices and on total quantity; carries a free allowance before extras start charging; can open with a default option already picked; and prices each option as a delta. Seven kinds ship with presets authored ready to attach — Choose a Side, Spice Level, Burger Toppings, Choose a Sauce, Choose a Drink, Meat Temperature and Standard — so spice level is one tap and the price difference is already on the line.
A dish carries named portion options, each with its own price delta, and a recipe can be authored against a specific portion option so a regular and a large cost themselves rather than sharing one average. An item can also carry a maximum quantity per order, which is the blunt way to stop one phone order emptying the fryer.
All four are part of Menu & Catalog — the catalog codes are not a separate module to buy, and the search is the one built into Counter & Orders.
A counter that stops selling because a router rebooted is a counter with a queue walking out of it. The terminal keeps taking orders on its own.
Twice a day the kitchen falls behind and the promise on the slip has to stretch, without anybody explaining kitchen load to a guest holding a parcel.
The promised ready time stretches, and the guest is never told why.
A branch runs in one of six operating modes. BUSY adds that mode’s prep buffer minutes to every ready-in estimate, and no kitchen-load wording reaches the guest — the extra time is folded into the number they already read, so ready in fourteen minutes simply becomes ready in twenty-nine.
A longer buffer, and Express Pickup switches itself off.
The same mechanism with a longer buffer, plus one decision made for you: while CRITICAL is on, Express Pickup stops accepting orders. The queue standing in front of the counter is not made to compete with a QR code taped beside it.
Stop taking orders on one channel without closing the branch.
Pickup, Express Pickup and delivery can each be paused on their own, and an empty list pauses the whole location. A pause whose end time has passed heals back to NORMAL by itself, so the one nobody remembered to lift does not keep the branch shut the next morning.
Serve the people here, stop taking orders for later.
The channels open now stay open for anyone who wants their food immediately, and scheduled orders stop being accepted. It is the twenty minutes before shutters down, expressed as a setting rather than as staff turning people away.
Switching into a restrictive mode asks for a typed reason, is audited, and reaches every connected manager’s timeline. While the rush is on, the live operations read for a branch is awaiting acceptance, preparing, ready, late, the oldest unaccepted order in minutes, the oldest ticket in minutes, who is clocked in, and print jobs pending or failed — alongside an attention queue of orders not accepted, orders late, payments awaiting verification, print failures and missed routines, each with an age and a link to the thing to open. Kitchen workload is derived from the prep-time minutes on the dishes actually on the line, not from a score somebody typed in.
UPI or cash, handed over with somebody already speaking the next order. What happens after that is where a walk-in stops being anonymous.
The margin at a counter is in the second item. It is worth being exact about where a combo actually comes from, because it is not where most people assume.
There is no combo SKU in the catalog, no bundle entity and no meal type — so a combo here is one of two things, and it is worth knowing which. Either it is a dish with required choice groups attached, a burger that cannot go into the cart until a side and a drink have been answered. Or it is a daily deal: scoped to one branch, on the weekdays you choose, between a start and an end time, targeting exactly one item or one whole category, in five shapes — percent off, amount off, buy X get Y, spend X get an item free, and buy X get an item free.
The shape that reads as a meal deal is the add-on. While the target item is in the cart, a named add-on is offered at a fixed price or at a percentage off its base price, capped at the quantity of the qualifying item, with the main item’s own discount optional — so the burger can stay at full price while the fries go to twenty rupees for anyone who bought one.
A deal can carry hours. The menu cannot. A branch can switch an item off, and a deal can run from four to seven, but there is no breakfast menu that closes at eleven and no late-night list that appears at ten — and a page that implied otherwise would be selling you something you would go looking for in week two.
Stock runs out mid-rush and two surfaces have to change in the same second: the till and the board above it. Neither should wait for somebody to walk to a laptop.
With auto-disable on, a required base ingredient reaching zero flips the dish’s auto-disabled flag at that branch. It never overwrites the manual switch — what the counter can sell is enabled and not auto-disabled — and it walks sub-recipe edges, so a dish that consumes the ingredient through something else it is made from goes too.
Every menu, section, availability and choice-group write goes through one chokepoint that clears the display snapshot and records a menu-changed event, so admin screens and paired signage refetch. The board above the counter and the till stop offering the item in the same moment, from one ingredient hitting zero.
Before it hits zero, the count is a question worth asking at 8:15: how many servings are still makeable, and which single ingredient is the one holding that number down. The org sets the figure at or below which an item reads LOW — ten portions by default. Availability can also just be an explicit count for the day.
Pair a TV by typing the six-character code it shows, then run a menu grid, a menu list or a slideshow built from your own sections. Prices are read off the live menu, sold-out items are badged or hidden, veg marks and the FSSAI footer are switched per board, and one list tells you which of those TVs is online and which has gone dark.
This is the part of a QSR pitch that usually gets invented. It is not invented here, so read it before you compare us with somebody who promises more.
There is no token number and no now-serving screen. A takeaway order carries an order number — EEL-000123, counted per organisation rather than globally, so two Kochi outlets whose names start the same way can both hold EEL-000001 without colliding — and that number is printed on the slip in the guest’s hand. Either somebody at the counter calls it out, which is what happens today and works, or the message does it: “Order #EEL-000123 is ready” goes out on WhatsApp, SMS, email and push, and each order-status message can be switched on or off on its own.
Our TV boards are menu grids, menu lists and slideshows. That is the whole list, and none of the three calls a number. If an order-status display is the thing you are buying, say so on the demo call rather than assuming it is behind one of these words.
Five ways in, all landing on the one order list the counter’s own bills land on: the counter, the Express Pickup QR by the queue, your storefront, a WhatsApp chat, and the road.
Print the QR, stick it beside the queue, and a guest orders and pays on their own phone giving a name, a number and optionally an email. No account, no app, no download. It is switched on per branch, with its own storefront address for the printed code, and CRITICAL turns it off for you.
What that guest is shown is the longest single item’s prep time — items cook in parallel, so the slowest one sets the wait — plus the branch’s live BUSY or CRITICAL buffer, clamped so a buffer can never shorten an estimate. Nobody has to remember to edit a number at 12:30.
A guest browses categories inside a WhatsApp chat, answers each dish’s option groups one group at a time, picks pickup, and the order is filed against their phone number with nothing installed and no account made. The counter’s own phone-in path is still there too, and it makes customer details mandatory.
Express Pickup runs on the guest’s phone from a printed QR. There is no kiosk surface, no kiosk mode and no kiosk hardware to buy from us, and dressing one up as the other would be a bad surprise on the day you tried to bolt a screen to a stand.
Part-time people who change often, cash in the hand, and one person counting at the end of the night. Permissions matter more at a counter than they do in a dining room.
Staff & Roles, Attendance & Routines, Daily Close and Dashboard & Reports.
Every mechanism above belongs to one of these, and each one opens into the page that explains it properly. Switch on the ones your counter needs and leave the rest.
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.
UPI, card and cash on one tender line, settling into a wallet you can draw on.
Points on the bill, milestones, coupons, daily deals, and campaigns that announce them.
Your own ordering site, on your domain: menu, online checkout and Express Pickup QR.
A recipe behind each dish, stock off the shelf as it is billed, margin on every plate.
TV boards built from your menu, and a screen list that says which TVs are actually on.
Guests browse the menu and order inside a WhatsApp chat. It lands in your order list.
Permissions granted per person, so a role opens exactly its own screens and no others.
Shifts, attendance approvals, and the checks that have to happen before service.
Count the drawer, log the expenses, then submit, approve and lock the day.
Orders, payments, rewards, discounts and a profit and loss statement, over any dates
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.