The Path of the Serving Tray: A Chaotic Studio Ghibli-Inspired Game for Aspiring Waiters

A healthy pinch of my motivation for writing about waiter simulation plate em’ up The Way Of The Tray is so I can read your hospitality job horror stories in the comments, but I do love the energy here. It’s a breathless, colourful (actual) plate-spinner that has you serve mythical dishes in the daily grind for tips from Yokai customers. You’ll then invest those tips back into waiter skills and restaurant upgrades, or at least whatever petty cash is left over from paying rent.

I personally would not rely on the structural integrity of a layer of onigiri to support multiple clay bowls and glass bottles, but I am not a professional, nor do I have to please a clientele of demons, large spiders, and Kappas. I also personally wouldn’t have written the phrase “immerse yourself in the mysterious atmosphere of Japan” in the Steam features, since all you have to do there is add an ‘-ese folklore’ to not sound like a 17th century powder-wigged buffoon trotting out his maid in Geisha makeup for tonight’s dinner party entertainment. Here are some less irksomely worded features:

• Master the art of keeping your tray balanced: every mistake can cost you a tip. Learn to manage your time so you can serve all your guests on time and prevent them from leaving.
• Serve unusual orders to yokai and learn all the secrets of local cuisine.
• Develop your waiter skills to earn more tips and invest them in upgrades, and don’t forget to pay the rent.

My own experience in food service includes frying up English breakfasts in a chippy cafe, temping for a catering company for weddings, and working in a Wetherspoons-grade pub kitchen (I believe the professional term is “microwave ape”). None of these were especially negative, mind. The chippy was in a popular holiday town, which led me to observe that some customers will treat any perceived imperfection as a direct assault on their perfect getaway, but I suppose the nature of limited leisure time makes solipsists of us all. As does paying six quid for a bacon roll. If I’d known you were going to be a Kappa I would have whacked extra cucumber in there, obviously.