Calls, reservations, orders, staff, and reporting. One connected operating system for the whole restaurant.
Keep your tools, bring your data, and move to Allstations on your terms.
CSV imports, webhooks, and open APIs. No starting from scratch.
Nine modules, one for each job the restaurant already does, each knowing what the other eight are up to. Run one, or all nine.
AI phone answering that books reservations, handles guest questions, and keeps your staff focused on service.
ResQueueReservations, waitlists, and table management that fill more seats and keep service moving.
CheckplzA complete restaurant POS for orders, checks, and payments, on the iPads you already own.
OrderbyteCommission-free direct ordering, on-demand delivery, and one menu synced across every channel.
SheetpanRecipe management, inventory, and food costing that keep your kitchen consistent and your margins in check.
ShiftkeyRestaurant scheduling and labor management built around demand, shift coverage, and payroll.
BootStaffHiring and onboarding that get new employees from application to their first shift.
StandupPre-shift briefings, staff training, and team communications, all connected to the day’s service.
RingmasterSales reporting, labor costs, and menu profitability in one place, so you always know how the business is performing.
From the first call-out to Monday morning. Each module hands the next what it needs, and nothing moves without a yes.
The open shift goes to everyone trained on that station. The first taker is held until a manager says yes; then the schedule, payroll and tonight’s lineup update themselves. Nobody has to text anyone.
Who decides The manager, with one tap.
Tonight’s brief from the book: 84 covers, two allergies by station, who is where. The checklist for the station follows whoever took the shift.
Who decides The chef runs it. The system wrote it.
Her stage was signed off on Tuesday, so the schedule let her on the line; her paperwork was done on her phone. Tonight she is on garde manger, with the station card open.
Who decides The chef signed the station off. Nothing else was needed.
A table for four at eight. The host picks up before the second ring, checks the floor plan and the kitchen’s load, reads it back and asks for a yes. Asked about sesame, it says “unknown”, because nobody declared it.
Who decides The caller says yes. The host never guesses.
The host at the stand says yes with the floor and the line on screen. The table moves, the guest’s notes follow, the kitchen sees the covers change, and the confirmation goes out the way they booked.
Who decides The host. The system shows what the yes costs.
Split by seat, one course comped by a manager with a name on it, paid at the table from the code, on the restaurant’s own merchant account.
Who decides The server. The comp needs the manager’s say-so.
A cook taps 86 on the line. The recipe said what the dish was, the prep list said how many, and the count says none.
Who decides A cook with the permission. The chef can restore it after a count.
The register, the phone, the website and the delivery apps drop the dish inside a second; we time it, and publish how. The order that got in first is flagged for a person. On a marketplace, the restaurants using them say twenty to thirty minutes.
Who decides A person handles the order that got in first.
Sales, labour percentage, each dish’s margin, the week’s covers and calls, the credit the receiver flagged on Thursday. Each comp, void and change, with the name of who made it. Export all of it, any day.
Who decides The owner reads one page. Nothing was typed.
The doors all feed one system; the screens all read from it. Change a price, a table, a shift or a recipe once and the register, the website and the line get the same one. Comps, voids and changes carry the name of whoever made them.
Your iPads, printers and readers, your menu from the till, your guests, this week’s schedule. We read it all back to you.
Who can comp, who can 86, how long a table holds, what the phone may promise. Once, in plain words, and the screens hold to them.
The phone books, the line cooks, the schedule covers, the invoices land. One log, signed. You make the calls.
Counter, $0 a month. House, $500 a location a month. Groups, call us. Cards at interchange plus a published margin, on your own merchant account, never a condition of the software.
About a fifth of the map: the phone host, the book, the recipes and allergens, the schedule, the house rules and the record under them. The register, purchasing and hiring are the next rows. Each feature is written down with its status; the brief says where it all stands.
No. Use the iPads, printers and card readers you have, or buy ours at cost. Nothing is locked to a device.
The register keeps taking orders and payments and syncs when you’re back online. The phone host runs in the cloud, so it keeps answering.
Not yet. Every shift and tip exports to the payroll you have.
Yes, under the same rules as a phone call. Nothing lands in the book until it’s been read back and confirmed.
Nothing. We import your menu, your guests and your schedule from wherever they live, read them back to you line by line, and put a human on it for your first month of service.
Any day. Everything, in files any spreadsheet opens. We’d rather earn the renewal.
Not for a food truck, a caterer or a shop. Not yet for a group past ten kitchens. If you want a register and nothing else, a free Square account will serve you fine; we earn our keep when the whole house is connected.
One founder who has worked the line, and an AI agent, row by row, in the open. Each decision has a dated record. The brief has the rest.
The register knows what sold. The book knows who’s coming. The schedule knows who’s working. Since the first till, nothing between them knew anything, and the restaurant carried the difference on a clipboard. Allstations is that clipboard, as one signed log, built in the open by someone who’s closed a restaurant at one in the morning.