Try removing the name and logo from five hotels and reading only the captions on their posts. How many could you identify? Between “unique experiences”, “cosy atmospheres”, “unforgettable moments” or “invites you to stay a little longer”, chances are few would stand out. In restaurants, it’s the same story: just swap in “authentic flavours”, “fresh ingredients” and “distinctive dining experiences” and you get the same result.
These aren’t wrong expressions; they’re simply so broad that they could belong to almost any brand. And that is precisely what troubles me about hospitality and restaurant communication: we have businesses with completely different stories, concepts, audiences and personalities, yet we keep finding surprisingly similar ways of talking about them.
The problem isn’t one unoriginal sentence. It’s when a lack of specificity stops being the exception and starts to define an entire editorial strategy.
A good photo is not a positioning
Hospitality and restaurants have an obvious advantage in digital communication: they are sectors that photograph well. There are architecturally interesting spaces, visually appealing dishes, elaborate cocktails and photo-ready settings.
But a good photo is not, in itself, an argument for differentiation, let alone loyalty. We can photograph two rooms with the same light and the same framing, even if they belong to hotels with completely different propositions. The same goes for a dish: the image can spark desire while revealing practically nothing about the cooking or the choices behind the concept.
I’m not arguing that every post needs an elaborate narrative; a beautiful image can serve its commercial purpose perfectly well. But when aesthetics become the main common denominator between distinct brands, it’s worth asking what we are actually building: a brand that wants to make its mark in the sector, or just another food trend being ticked off?
The difference is in the details. But not just any details…
Comfort, good service and quality food are important attributes, but they are also what practically every hotel and restaurant tends to guarantee. They work only as baseline expectations, not necessarily as reasons to choose a brand.
A hotel may have a prime location, comfortable rooms and an attentive team. But what makes it stand out from the rest? It could be the history of the building, its relationship with the neighbourhood or a very personal interpretation of hospitality. In a restaurant, the narrative difference may lie in the origin of the ingredients, an innovative preparation technique — or even one that stays traditional — the way the menu is built or even how the service has been designed.
However, it’s not enough to list these distinctive features; you need to identify which ones are relevant to the positioning and to the target audience. A brand doesn’t become distinctive by communicating all its attributes every day, but by consistently selecting and highlighting those that best represent it. It’s that selection that requires strategic vision.
On the other side of the counter
Before working in digital communication, I had direct contact with customers and with the operational reality of restaurants. It’s an experience I still value, above all because it let me observe the difference between what a business considers important and what actually sparks interest in those who visit it.
Behind a counter, you routinely notice the questions that keep coming up in the dining room, the products that surprise people and the choices that don’t always match our expectations when we develop menu ideas. We can spend weeks thinking up new additions to a menu only to find that customers keep asking for that dish that’s no longer available. Innovation can spark curiosity, but familiarity is also a strong reason to come back.
Today, when I work on a brand’s positioning or editorial planning, I try to keep that attention to consumer behaviour. It doesn’t mean turning an individual experience into an absolute truth, but recognising that there’s relevant information in people’s questions, hesitations and choices. For that, you need not only to know the brand conceptually, but to experience it as a customer. That kind of information rarely reaches us through a brief.
The hardest part isn’t writing
In communication work, there’s an important difference between finding a sentence that sounds good and finding a sentence that makes sense for a particular brand. The first can come quickly, almost like a formula; the second requires knowing the concept, understanding the audience and grasping how the brand is perceived.
It has happened to me: I thought a piece of copy was fine and, on rereading it, realised it could have been published by any other restaurant. It wasn’t badly written; it simply didn’t say anything particularly relevant or distinctive about the brand.
It’s an exercise I try to do more and more: asking whether we are communicating that brand’s identity or just reproducing language that’s familiar to the sector. There are four questions I find useful in this process.
Could this only be ours? Identity should be recognisable in the choice of topics, the language and the way we present the experience, not just in the logo.
Does this help someone decide? Not all content needs to be aspirational. Explaining how a sharing menu works or clarifying a particular feature of a service can play an important role in the purchase decision.
Does this match what people will find? The tone of voice and visual identity should reflect the real experience. Communication that promises a relaxed feel, closeness or exclusivity needs to be matched by the service, the atmosphere and the way guests are welcomed.
Does this give a reason to come back, or just to try it? A trend can generate curiosity and attract first visits, but it doesn’t guarantee that customers return. It’s the bucket-list effect: visit, photograph, post and move on to the next one.
These questions don’t guarantee a good post, but I think they help show whether content responds to a strategic intention or simply to the need to fill an editorial calendar.
When the new stops being new
Digital communication thrives on novelty: formats, trends and experiences that, for a few weeks, seem to be everywhere. In restaurants, this phenomenon is especially visible. A dish goes viral, a venue becomes the new place everyone wants to go, and curiosity is enough to drive a first visit. But I always wonder: what happens when the novelty wears off?
There’s a difference between sparking curiosity and building preference. A restaurant can become a must-visit destination, almost like a tourist attraction we want to tick off the list. The experience may even live up to expectations, but not create a reason to repeat it.
This doesn’t mean brands should ignore trends. Keeping up with changes in consumer habits is, in fact, essential to keeping a proposition relevant. Communication can harness the enthusiasm around a trend without making it the brand’s main argument. Because a trend can justify the first visit, but it can hardly sustain the second one on its own.
Fewer formulas, more knowledge
I don’t believe the solution to generic communication lies in looking for more original adjectives or ever more creative or disruptive sentences. We can replace “unique experience” with a far more sophisticated expression and still say absolutely nothing that adds value.
The question comes before the writing: it lies in knowing the business, in contact with the teams, in observing the experience and in the ability to identify what truly deserves to be highlighted. Not everything needs to become a story, just as not every post needs to teach something. And the best solution isn’t always to complicate a message that could be simple.
What matters is that communication has personality and stays true and consistent to the concept. That the brand has its own way of presenting itself, of talking and of relating to its audience. It’s essential to be curious about the sector and, even more so, about the brand. Not just curious about discovering trends or new formats, but about understanding what lies behind a business and the choices that define it. At the end of the day, writing well matters, and so does photographing well. But if what we communicate could belong to any other hotel or restaurant, perhaps the problem isn’t creativity.
Perhaps we just don’t know the brand well enough yet.
