Notes ·
Three names for a food and drink founder
A courtyard grill, a chef's tasting room and a snack for the space age: three names from the catalogue, at three prices.
A food name has one job before all the others: it has to make somebody hungry. It will be read on a fascia from across the street, on a delivery app at the bottom of a long scroll, and on a box that has just been carried home in the rain. If it does not work in all three places, it does not work.
Most new food businesses reach for the same handful of words. Kitchen, house, fresh, co. The result is a high street of names that could belong to anyone, and a founder who has to spend money explaining which one is theirs. The three below do the opposite. Each one tells you what kind of evening you are in for.
Backstreet Grill
A backstreet is the turning off the main road, the one you take because somebody told you to. A grill is the fire waiting at the end of it. Put together, the name promises a place found through a friend rather than a billboard, which is the best kind of reputation a restaurant can have.
It suits a courtyard grill with a playlist that changes by the night, and it is short enough to paint on a gate. It is in the Premium Club, at $700, a small line in the cost of a fit-out. See Backstreet Grill.
Atelier Spoon
An atelier is a craftsman's workshop; a spoon is the tool a chef keeps closest. The name describes a kitchen run like a studio, where the plate is the finished work and the chef signs it. It is quiet, a little French, and confident enough not to raise its voice.
It suits a chef opening a tasting-menu room, the sort of place where the menu is a single card and the room is lit for the food. Premium Club, $6,000. See Atelier Spoon.
Astronutics
Take astronautics, drop one letter, and the science of space flight lands on a bag of nuts. The pun does real work: it casts a healthy snack as fuel, which is how a teenager might be persuaded to reach for almonds instead of crisps. The name carries a whole packaging idea inside it, from the planets on the pack to the countdown on the till.
It suits a snack brand that wants to be playful without being childish. Premium Club, $8,000. See Astronutics.
Three names, three kinds of hunger. If none of them is yours, tell me about the business, and I will tell you honestly whether I can name it.
