Alright, so the digital prophets are at it again. This time, they’re promising to stick their algorithmic fingers into your dinner plate. Some genius over at Forbes, probably sipping kombucha in a glass office, penned a little love letter to Generative AI and how it’s going to “transform” the restaurant game. Transform. That’s the word they always use, isn’t it? Sounds so much nicer than “make a bloody mess of things” or “find new ways to nickel and dime you while pretending it’s progress.”
The gist is this: kitchens are tough, fast-paced. True enough. I’ve seen cooks move like frantic poets, sweat stinging their eyes, a cigarette dangling, turning out miracles on a chipped plate. The article says AI’s gonna “make life easier by automating routine tasks and augmenting our culinary creativity.” Hold on, let me light a smoke. Augmenting creativity. Right. Like a fifth shot of cheap whiskey augments my ability to find my keys.
They’re talking about fast food giants already playing footsie with voice AI for drive-throughs. Oh, I can just picture it. You, nursing a hangover, trying to croak out an order for a greasy burger and a milkshake thick as mud, and some synthesized voice, all chipper and devoid of human understanding, keeps asking if you’d like to “optimize your caloric intake with our new kale smoothie.” I’d rather argue with a human teenager who hates their job; at least there’s some genuine misery there, something I can relate to. This AI future they’re painting sounds like a fresh circle of hell designed by committee. Another drag. Yeah.
And get this: 70 percent of the restaurant biz is small joints, single locations. The little guys. The article assures us there’ll be “plenty of opportunities for these to get in on the action, too.” Like what, installing a ChatGPT terminal next to the flickering neon beer sign so old Joe, who’s been running his diner for forty years on coffee and sheer grit, can “analyze big datasets of customer preferences”? Joe knows his customers. He knows Betty wants her eggs runny and her bacon crisp, and young Mikey always tries to sneak an extra pancake. He doesn’t need a damn algorithm to tell him that.
The author chirps about using AI to “create menus.” It can sift through “diet trends, and availability of seasonal ingredients.” Sounds thrilling. “Chef, the AI suggests a deconstructed avocado toast with a hint of existential despair, very popular with the millennials this quarter.” The article itself admits that most chefs wouldn’t want to type “create a dish for me” any more than a writer would type “write a book for me,” because the results would be “bland.” You don’t say. But then it pivots, saying AI can provide “inspiration, ideas and questions to prompt original ideas.” So, it’s not going to replace the chef’s soul, just… whisper sweet, algorithmic nothings into its ear until it coughs up something marketable. And it’ll create images for “presenting food to customers in interesting and stylish ways.” Because nothing whets the appetite like a picture generated by a machine that thinks a “stylish” garnish is three identically spaced microgreens. Pour me another one, would you? This is getting painful.
Then there’s the business side. Of course. AI will help restaurateurs “make better business decisions based on understanding customer trends, locations and preferences.” Translation: they’ll find more efficient ways to figure out what you’ll pay top dollar for, and how to cram more paying suckers into smaller spaces. Yum Brands – Christ, even the name sounds like something a focus group shat out – is launching an “AI restaurant management platform.” It’s got an “agentic AI assistant called Bytes By Yum.” Bytes By Yum. Sounds like a goddamn kid’s cereal mascot, not a tool to manage human beings. This Bytes character will help with “staff scheduling and other management decisions.” I can see it now: “Bytes By Yum has determined that Consuela can work a 16-hour shift with no break because her ’emotional resilience metrics’ are optimal. Also, we’re cutting her pay by 3% to ’enhance shareholder value.'”
And naturally, AI will handle “stock and inventory management.” Managers will find it “useful for keeping track of ingredients, suppliers, and use-by dates.” Useful. That’s the word. Like a warden finds his keys useful. I suppose it beats finding a dead rat in the flour sack, but there’s something about a human eye, a human nose, checking the freshness of things. Call me old-fashioned. I probably am. This bourbon isn’t getting any younger, either.
Now, here’s the reassurance, the pat on the head: “AI won’t be taking away jobs from chefs and cooks any time soon.” Whew, what a relief. My local fry cook, the one who looks like he’s wrestled a bear and lost, can sleep easy tonight. “Robots can peel potatoes and mix ingredients, but they don’t yet have the dexterity and general intelligence capabilities to manage all of the tasks associated with a busy kitchen.” Yet. That “yet” hangs in the air like the smell of stale beer and regret. So, for now, the humans get to do the complicated, stressful stuff, while the robots get the mindless drudgery of potato peeling. Lucky us. Seems like they’re just reassigning the misery, not eliminating it.
Instead, these digital overlords will help chefs “work smarter by supporting them with tasks involving planning, preparation and scheduling.” This, apparently, will give them “more time to spend on the high-value elements of their work involving experimenting, innovating, and demonstrating their personal flair.” Personal flair. Right. Like Chef Antoine, knee-deep in dinner rush, screaming in three languages, suddenly has a Zen moment of satori because a robot scheduled his prep cook’s bathroom breaks. “Ah, oui! Now I can truly express my inner culinary artist with this Sysco-delivered chicken breast!” It’s a beautiful dream, isn’t it? Like the ones you have after too much tequila and not enough sleep.
The vision continues: “With robots and AIs taking care of inventory management and replenishment or shift scheduling, chefs can instead search for newer or fresher ingredients and deliver new taste sensations.” Oh, sure. Because the first thing a multi-billion dollar fast-food chain or a struggling mom-and-pop is going to do with those labor savings is send their chefs on artisanal ingredient scavenger hunts. Not, you know, cut more staff or squeeze suppliers for cheaper, AI-approved gruel. My cynicism needs a refill. Hang on.
Managers and hospitality professionals, the article gushes, “will spend more time on strategic decisions, oversight, and face-to-face interactions with customers, learning what they want.” Strategic decisions like “how do we make the AI-generated menu sound less like it was written by a depressed robot?” Face-to-face interactions, sure, until they figure out an AI can do that too, probably with a more convincing smile than most overworked managers can muster. “Learning what they want.” They already know what we want: decent food, fair prices, and maybe a clean glass. The rest is just window dressing to justify the new tech budget.
And the poor bastards on the floor, the waiters and waitresses? They “can focus on providing exceptional service and creating truly memorable dining experiences.” While juggling orders punched into glitchy tablets, explaining why the AI recommended a side of pickled seaweed with your steak, and trying to appease customers whose AI-customized meals bear no resemblance to food. Memorable, alright. Like a bad acid trip is memorable.
So, the conclusion from our Forbes friend is that “human roles in these industries will evolve, bringing new challenges and opportunities.” Evolve. Like a cockroach evolves to survive insecticide. Challenges and opportunities. That’s what they call it when your job description changes every six months and you’re constantly scrambling to learn some new piece of software just to stay employed. “As with every profession, AI literacy and digital skills will be increasingly important to chefs and hospitality professionals who want to be at the top of their game.” So, not only do you need to know how to flambé a crêpe without setting the curtains on fire, now you need to be a goddamn data scientist too. Swell. Just what the world needs: more chefs who can code and fewer who can cook. I need another cigarette. This is a marathon of bullshit.
The final, saccharine cherry on this digital sundae: “Few activities are more fundamentally human in nature than eating, particularly when we’re eating great food with great friends. AI isn’t going to change this, but professionals empowered by AI will have the chance to make eating out more personalized, interesting, and satisfying.” Bullshit. AI is going to change it. It’ll make it colder, more calculated. “Personalized” will mean “tracked and targeted.” “Interesting” will mean “weird shit the algorithm dreamed up.” “Satisfying” will mean “you paid the bill and didn’t get food poisoning, probably.”
The truly human part of eating isn’t just the food, it’s the mess, the imperfection, the shared laughter over a spilled drink, the surly but lovable waiter who knows your order by heart. It’s the human connection, however flawed. Shoving a bunch of AI into the mix doesn’t “empower” that; it sterilizes it. It turns a place of potential communion into just another data point, another transaction optimized for efficiency above all else.
Maybe I’m just an old dinosaur, grumbling into my whiskey. Maybe this AI stuff will actually lead to some kind of culinary utopia where every meal is a personalized masterpiece and no one ever gets a bad order at the drive-through. And maybe I’ll wake up tomorrow morning feeling like a million bucks, with a beautiful woman in my bed and a winning lottery ticket on the nightstand.
But I wouldn’t bet on any of it. The house always wins, especially when the house is run by algorithms. And the rest of us? We just try to find a decent meal and a stiff drink to wash down the taste of tomorrow’s glorious, AI-powered future.
This whole thing leaves a bad taste in my mouth. Or maybe that’s just the cheap bourbon. Time to find out.
Chinaski out. Probably for another drink.
Source: How Generative AI Will Affect Jobs In Restaurants And Hospitality