Here is a finding that should reframe where you spend your next refurbishment pound.
Sit with that, because it cuts against everything the industry has trained itself to believe. We obsess over the menu, the sourcing, the plating, the chef. All of it still matters. But the data says the guest is buying something larger than the plate in front of them.
Counter seating saw the biggest jump of any format last year, up 26%. Not the discreet corner booth. The counter, where you sit close to the pass, watch the flames, and feel part of the performance. OpenTable's read on 2026 is that diners are no longer booking tables, they are booking moments, experiences, and rooms worth photographing. The space has become part of the product.
The reason is human, not aesthetic. People do not return because the rooms were clean and the breakfast was fine. They return because something happened to them: a sense of occasion, a feeling of being somewhere alive. 45% of diners say they would pay a premium for a genuinely one-of-a-kind experience, which means atmosphere is not a cost line. It is a pricing lever most operators leave untouched.
This is the opportunity hiding in plain sight. You cannot easily out-cook every rival on your street, and you cannot out-discount them without bleeding margin. But you can own a feeling. The lighting at 8pm. The soundtrack that lifts as the room fills. The seat that makes a solo diner feel hosted rather than tolerated. The small piece of theatre that turns a Wednesday into a story worth retelling.
The best operators already design for emotion as deliberately as they design the menu. They treat the room as their most repeatable asset, because a great dish is eaten once and a great feeling is remembered, recommended, and rebooked.
The kitchen will always matter. But if you want guests who come back, talk about you, and pay more to do it, the room might matter more.
Matthew Webb, Octagon Square
What feeling does your space create the moment someone walks in, and is it the one you actually intended?
