Food writing is plagued by cliches. They're everywhere because they're easy. They arrive in your brain before an original thought has a chance. The problem is that they communicate nothing. They're wallpaper words that fill space without conveying meaning.
Here's the test: if you could copy the sentence into a review of a completely different restaurant and it would still make sense, it's a cliche. "Amazing food! Great service!" could describe literally any restaurant on earth. It's not a review. It's a reaction with no information attached.
| Cliche | Why It's Empty | What to Write Instead |
|---|---|---|
| "Melt in your mouth" | What does this actually mean? Everything from ice cream to cotton candy melts in your mouth. | Describe the specific texture: "tender enough to cut with a fork, the fat rendering into the meat as you chew" |
| "Burst of flavour" | What flavour? Where? How? | Name the flavour: "a sharp hit of lime that cut through the richness" |
| "To die for" | Meaningless hyperbole | Say what made it exceptional: "the best version of this dish I've had. The crust was shatteringly crisp while the inside stayed impossibly creamy" |
| "Hidden gem" | Every reviewer's "hidden gem" is another reviewer's regular spot | Just describe the restaurant. If it's good, that will come through. |
| "Foodie paradise" | The word "foodie" tells you nothing about the person or the food | Describe what specifically makes this place worth visiting |
| "Perfectly cooked" | This is an assessment pretending to be a description | Describe what made it perfect: "the salmon was rose-pink in the centre, flaking in clean sheets, the skin crackling like a chip" |
| "A symphony of flavours" | Mixing metaphors doesn't become insight | Describe the actual flavour interaction: "the sweetness of the prawns, the salinity of the seaweed butter, and the sharp acidity of the yuzu worked in layers" |
The fix is always the same: replace the cliche with a specific observation. What did you actually taste, feel, see, or experience? Describe that.
The Show, Don't Tell Principle
This principle from fiction writing applies directly to reviews. Don't tell the reader something was good. Show them why.
Telling: "The service was excellent."
Showing: "We never had to look for our waiter. Water appeared when the glass was half-empty. Plates were cleared the moment we set down our forks, never while we were still eating. When we asked about the wine, the server didn't just recommend a bottle. She described three options and explained why each would work differently with our dishes."
The second version is longer, but the reader can now assess the quality of service for themselves. They don't need to take your word for it.
Telling: "The atmosphere was great."
Showing: "Dim, warm lighting from bulbs that looked like they'd been there for decades. Tables close enough that you could feel the energy of the room but far enough apart for a private conversation. A faint jazz record playing at exactly the volume where you notice it when the conversation pauses and forget it when it resumes."
Now the reader can picture the room. They can decide for themselves whether that atmosphere appeals to them.