It’s possible that your most recent takeout order wasn’t even from a restaurant. Somewhere on an industrial estate, perhaps in a converted shipping container with no windows and a security guard stationed at the door, your dinner was prepared in a facility you would never be able to see or visit. These are dimly lit kitchens that are subtly turning into the delivery economy’s engine room in Britain.
It’s difficult to ignore the numbers. In the UK, there are currently an estimated 750 dark kitchens that only prepare food for apps like Eat, Uber Eats, and Deliveroo. While FoodStars, which former Uber CEO Travis Kalanick acquired, operates more than 100 kitchens in London, Birmingham, Leeds, and Manchester, Deliveroo introduced its Editions program in 2017 and attracted brands like Dishoom and Five Guys. By 2030, food delivery could be a trillion-dollar industry, according to Euromonitor, and everyone wants a piece of the pie.
Of course, there is a logic to it. High street rates are much higher than those on industrial land. No waiters, no dining room, no couples trying to enjoy a quiet meal while a helmeted rider in high-vis leathers hovers by the till waiting for order forty-seven. For a small operator, renting a dark kitchen from around £1,500 a month means taking orders almost immediately, without the crushing startup costs of a proper restaurant. Watching the model spread, it’s hard not to admire the efficiency, even while feeling slightly uneasy about what it replaces.
Due to the replacement of something. When Hüseyin Kurt, who runs a Turkish restaurant in north London, first heard rumours of Deliveroo building windowless units on wasteland near the Hornsey railway line, his reaction was bafflement. What culinary expertise does Deliveroo possess? They didn’t need to know much, it turned out. Even at 35% plus VAT, commissions weren’t turning a profit on their own, so they had to take control of the kitchen. Owning the food preparation itself might.
The most peculiar aspect of all of this is undoubtedly the virtual brands. The macaroni cheese location on your app may be a spinoff prepared in a Bella Italia kitchen. Las Iguanas runs Blazing Bird and Bang Bang Burrito. Tossed operates at least five separate online-only identities. The menu photos look real enough, glowing and lovingly tailored. The restaurant behind them may simply not exist.
Where this ends up is still unknown. Wagamama halted its expansion into dark kitchens as demand decreased, and Uber Eats has already retreated from owning kitchen real estate. Critics point to a high street hollowing out one missed dinner reservation at a time, residents complaining about odors and swarming mopeds, and chefs crammed into stuffy containers. There is no denying the convenience. The feeling that we’re giving up something in exchange for a quicker ping on the doorstep, such as ambience, connection, or even just knowing where our food comes from. Depending on how hungry you are, that trade may or may not seem worthwhile.
