Kaimar — a Nikkei restaurant website template

Starter is £19/mo excl. VAT and includes a complete restaurant website, a live structured menu, enquiry and newsletter forms, and managed search readiness. Growth is £39/mo excl. VAT and adds direct live bookings, a custom domain with managed SSL, and table and floor-plan operations. Full is £69/mo excl. VAT and adds online ordering and multi-site management for up to five restaurant sites. TableSpark commission is 0%. Stripe's standard card-processing fees apply to online payments.

Take it for a drive.

Kaimar opens as a dark room lit by one clay-red lamp, because that is the kitchen it was drawn for. Yours might be white tile and morning light, or brass and candles, or something nobody has built yet.

This is the product, not a picture of it. Left, the live site. Right, the builder’s own Theme panel. Everything you press takes effect immediately, nothing persists, and there is no sign-in wall in front of it. Go on.

Every page, as it publishes

6 pages, and every one of them is here. What follows is the site itself rather than pictures of it. The same engine that publishes a live restaurant is drawing it here, links and all. The Phone toggle shows the small-screen version.

Why it looks like this

Nikkei kitchens are counter kitchens. The fish arrives whole, the leche de tigre is mixed to order, and the room runs on the rhythm of people arriving without a booking. The design answers that with a street-counter opening rather than a magazine cover: hours, the address, tonight’s dish and two actions, set over a photograph of the counter itself. A guest standing outside with a phone gets the four facts they need before the page has finished loading.

That decision runs through everything after it. The palette is a dark room lit by one warm lamp, so photographs of raw fish and charcoal look like they were taken in the restaurant rather than in a studio. The type pairs a wide display face for the shouted words with a plain workhorse for the reading, which is what a menu of forty short dish names actually needs.

Everything on the home page, named

Six blocks do the work, and each one is a builder module you can reorder, edit or delete:

• Hero — Big opening image, name & buttons, in the Queue & Takeaway treatment: Live queue, takeaway wait and tonight’s pitch across the base.
• Marquee strip — Scrolling awards or words.
• Intro statement — Big opening statement line.
• Text + image — A paragraph beside a photo.
• Menu preview — A few dishes on a sliding rail.
• Offer banner — Time-bounded offer that hides itself when it ends.
• Gallery — Grid, masonry or moving strip.
• Call to action — Headline + button band.

The statement block currently reads Lima meets Tokyo: soy in the leche de tigre, ají in the tare. — one line you will rewrite in about four seconds.

The menu: legible to guests, readable by Google

This template uses the Editorial layout — each section opens on its signature plate, then the dishes are set as type in ruled columns, the way a printed card reads. The menu is set the way a printed card reads: each section opens on its signature plate, then the dishes are typed in ruled columns. That matters twice over. For the guest, a long menu stops being an endless scroll of photographs. For Google, every dish, description and price is real text with Restaurant schema around it, not a PDF or a picture of a laminated sheet.

Nikkei menus are full of words that need explaining — tiradito, causa, nikkei tare — and the description field is where that work happens without cluttering the plate. Dietary marks, a one-to-three chilli scale, chef’s picks, sold-out lines and portion sizes all come from the menu editor, so a dish that runs out at eight o’clock stops being orderable at eight o’clock.

Whichever layout you choose, the point is the same: every dish, description and price is real text in the page with Restaurant schema around it, not a PDF and not a photograph of a laminated sheet.

The ordering page: same habit, different economics

This is the part worth pressing. Kaimar uses the Photo tiles ordering layout — every dish is a tile with an image, a price and an add button that becomes a quantity stepper. This is the part worth pressing. The ordering page reads like the delivery apps your guests already know — because that is the interaction they have been trained on — except the restaurant keeps the relationship and the money. Your sections run down a rail; tapping one swaps the dish list beside it without losing your place.

The basket never leaves the screen. On a phone it is a bar pinned to the bottom carrying the item count, a running total and Place order; on a laptop it becomes a panel beside the menu that follows the scroll, so a table of four watches the bill build as they choose. Dine-in asks for a table number, collection asks for a phone number, delivery asks for an address — and each mode only asks for what it needs.

The form adapts to the mode. Eating in? A table number. Collecting? A phone number. Delivery? An address. Nothing more is demanded.

The pages behind the menu

The story page opens on a collage and runs through the chef, the “why here” paragraph, a pull quote, a three-question interview, a milestone timeline and a gallery — enough structure that a real kitchen has somewhere to put its actual history instead of one thin paragraph. The visit page carries the practicalities: what to know before coming, how to find the door, the contact block, a map, the questions people always ask, and a newsletter sign-up.

Send a photograph, get a structured menu

This is the part that saves an afternoon. Take a picture of the menu you already have: the pressed card, the board behind the pass, a PDF from the printer. Back comes the whole menu as data: ordered sections, named dishes, their descriptions and prices, plus dietary and spice marks wherever the card showed them. Check it over — a smudged price or an ambitious accent is a two-second fix — and save.

What arrives is not a picture of a menu — it is real data. Everything downstream reads from it: the menu page, the ordering page, the highlights on the home page and the Restaurant structured data a search engine reads. Change a price once afterwards and all of them follow.

The search copy gets the same treatment: a Write with AI button reads the page and drafts its title and description, so those fields are never blank. Nothing is published on your behalf; the draft waits for you.

How long this actually takes

There is no build phase to wait through. Structure, styling and behaviour are done. Names, dishes and pictures are yours. Reckon on ten minutes to a published site, and reservations working from that same moment. Bookings land in your TableSpark inbox, and the guest gets a confirmation email straight away.

Taking money is a single connection: link Stripe and deposits on tables and payment on orders go straight to your own account. There is no cut for us — 0% commission on every plan. Stripe’s standard card-processing fees apply to online payments. Nobody else charges anything.

1. Pick KaimarThe full site arrives in your account as a working draft.
   1 min
2. Change the name and the wordsRewrite the words by clicking them; the name carries everywhere.
   4 min
3. Upload your menuSend the menu in as a photograph and check what comes back.
   3 min
4. PublishIt goes live on your address and starts taking bookings.
   1 min
5. Connect StripeNow you can take deposits on tables and payment on orders — direct to your account.
   1 min

Point your own domain at it

A domain is signage, and signage matters. Nothing about going live depends on owning a domain first; connect yours later and the site simply answers to it.

The plumbing is ours: certificate, secure connection, redirect, and keeping canonical URLs, sitemap and robots pointing at the live address as the domain changes. Own it already? Good. The instruction is a single record, spelled out.

After the booking: an email that looks like you

A confirmed booking is not the end of the conversation; it is the start of one. A confirmation is sent the second the booking lands, carrying the time, the covers, your address and contact details, and a self-service cancellation link. The same system sends the reminder before service, the deposit receipt and the cancellation notice.

The whole thing is yours to set, down to the sign-off. Six looks, one accent colour, your logo and cover photograph, the header layout, the sign-off line, and whichever links and social accounts you want on it. Add your domain and the from-line is yours too — the last detail that separates a real restaurant email from a system notification.

What follows is not a screenshot of an email — it is an email, drawn by the module the booking system calls. Change the style or the colour and it redraws.

What you control

• Yours from the first minute: names, headings, body copy, pictures, dishes, prices, opening times, the address, and every colour and typeface.
• Kept for you: everything that has to keep working at 200 dishes, at 390 pixels wide, and after you have changed every colour in the theme.
• Never locked: change the order of anything, remove whatever you do not want, add modules from the full library, and add or delete pages at will.

Findable, not merely online

Putting a page online is not the same as delivering a restaurant site that search engines can reliably discover and understand. A misconfigured robots file, a noindex left in place, canonical tags in conflict, pages with no internal links, a PDF menu, missing Restaurant schema or incomplete verification — any one is enough to keep a live site invisible. You feel it in the margin — guests reach commission-charging platforms first, and demand you should own outright becomes demand you rent.

This template ships with that work done. No one can promise rankings or guaranteed indexing — but nothing here is left for you to hire a technician to assemble.

Questions before you start