The Wall Street Journal recently did a piece on how the Cheesecake Factory chain thrived through the pandemic by increasing takeout orders. One of the secrets, as Atul Gawande wrote in a famous 2012 New York article, is process—there’s a 500 page operations manual and a procedure for everything, including how to describe cheesecake.
“Adding your delicious descriptions helps guests find the cheesecake they’ll enjoy most,” the guide instructs employees. “Use words that are natural to you and be sure to include your enthusiasm!”
Here are 42 words Cheesecake Factory provides to prime the pump:
Amazing | Baked | Chewy | Chocolatey | Chunky |
Covered | Creamy | Crispy | Crunchy | Decadent |
Delectable | Delicate | Delicious | Dripping | Drizzled |
Extraordinary | Fabulous | Fantastic | Full | Gooey |
Heavenly | Layered | Mouthwatering | Out of this world | Oozing |
Light | Loaded | Rich | Scrumptious | Silky |
Sinful | Smooth | Soaked | Soft | Sprinkled |
Sweet | Swirled | Tart | Unbelievable | Velvety |
Yummy | Yum-a-licious |
What’s interesting to me is how few words actually describe the taste of cheesecake, and only a few more describe the mouthfeel. The rest are about the experience—how you will feel, about yourself and the dish, as you are eating it and how you will be perceived by others.
Some time ago, when I was writing professionally for a meat company, I made a post about how hard it was to come up with adjectives describing taste and mouthfeel without repeating yourself. I later did some catalog writing for Allen Bros., an upscale steak purveyor, and inherited a copy style which was about how “your guests” will react when you serve up your perfectly cooked meat: you paid a pretty penny for this steak, and you want to make damn sure they’ll appreciate it. But still, it always started with taste—that first bite that confirms to the eater this is the good stuff, a cut above the rest.
Cheesecake Factory is doing something different. They want customers they’re doing something special and not a little sinful, simply by ordering such a payload of carbs and calories. I am sure Atul Gawande would approve—especially because he is a doctor by trade (the New Yorker article was about how healthcare delivery should be organized more like the Cheesecake Factory) and these gooey, oozing slices mean lots of new business for his profession.
Interesting and your linked article too.
I used to play a game asking people to describe the taste of a grilled cheese sandwich and tomato soup. In detail. Once they, or me, got beyond hot and salty it got difficult.
I’ve only been to Cheesecake Factory on company trips
Kept me and my coworkers out of Olive Garden.
Pretty good I thought. Nothing against OG either.
They prepare everthing from scratch? In a central commissary or the store?
https://www.thecheesecakefactory.com/menu/
“More than 250 dishes made fresh from scratch every day”
Whatever…
If it tastes good, consider eating it.
According to the WSJ article, everything is indeed made in house with the exception of the cheesecake, which is made in an actual cheesecake factory in an LA suburb.
Thanks for the correction. Not only do I get an “F” in reading comprehension and a “C” in spelling, I bungled my own nom du BMF…
We like chuck eye steaks more than Chucky Cheese pizzas, so thanks for fixing that!
Dr. Atul Gawande, MD is one of my favorite authors. Have you read Being Mortal? It is a must read. My cheesecake recipe is so good that all you need is a slender slice to feel grateful you used your calories. I grind Almond Biscotti for my crust. I add almond extract and vanilla extract as well as fresh squeezed lemon juice and a bit of sour cream to the cream cheese. I beat the eggs for 25 minutes before I add the sugar. I describe the flavor of my cheesecake as “devilishly good because it makes you smile from ear to ear.” If I have to use one word I would have to use “sinful.”
I read it in long article form in the New Yorker, but I’m sure the book has more. I will look it up, thanks!
They left out the number one descriptor: disgusting