The cart became a list

Picky went on the home network (one line in the package config) so Julia could QA from her phone; two hours side by side produced ten-plus bugs and a lost afternoon that felt like thirty minutes ▸ 4:27. The phase even got an analogy: refinamento, burning the loose threads off a garment that already works ▸ 3:07. Then came the sharper work: deciding what the MVP isn’t.

Cut one, Julia’s, and it’s about honest naming: since orders don’t transmit anywhere yet, a “cart” is a lie. People associate carts with click-to-buy. Call it an order list, drop the invented 10% tax, remove the place-order button ▸ 23:00. The interface should promise exactly what the system does.

Cut two, the waiter-QR sync, killed by arithmetic. It sounded easy in the head, and then: an interface for waiters, resilient assignment logic, table merging, edit flows, audit disputes over “I never ordered that dessert” ▸ 21:56. The closing math deserves framing: if the one week becomes two, something else appears and two become three ▸ 32:23. Scope creep compounds like interest.

fácil en la mente, tres semanas en el mundo →

Cut three, strategic: “sorpréndeme” moves behind the pro tier and out of the MVP, because the test for MVP features is brutal and correct: no restaurant refuses to buy because it’s missing ▸ 16:29. It stays alive as an upsell, enriched by Julia’s find: In-N-Out’s secret menu, items you unlock by knowing the code, manufacturing belonging like a small secta ▸ 11:47.

What survives as essential: the photo-to-menu import wizard, the one feature that decides whether onboarding takes ten minutes or never happens ▸ 17:03. Everything on the cut list was a good idea. That was never the question…