
It’s Thursday night and the group chat has turned into a restaurant committee. Someone sends a TikTok of a new Japanese fusion spot in Kreuzberg. Someone else drops a Berlin Food Stories post. Another is already scrolling through reviews on Google Maps. A friend chimes in: “My colleague went to Boii Boii last week. They said the coconut milk mussels are to DIE for.” Only then, after a consensus is reached 10 minutes later, is the reservation made.
Twenty years ago, that decision might have been shaped by a newspaper or magazine review. Today, it takes a council meeting. We’ve been told for years that social media killed the restaurant critic. Why wait for tomorrow’s review when you can watch a 30-second Reel? But while Instagram might put a restaurant on your radar, it rarely gets you through the door. Choosing where to eat is no longer about finding the best recommendation. It’s about collecting enough confidence to book a table.
The Poll
People in our generation aren’t reading the Michelin Guide or traditional publications, but the prestige of those credentials still matters. Out of curiosity, I posted a simple question on my Instagram Stories: ‘How do you decide where to eat?’ The options were Instagram, Google reviews, TikTok and word of mouth. I expected Instagram or TikTok to dominate, but word of mouth came out on top, followed by Instagram and Google reviews, while TikTok barely registered. The replies told the true story – it’s a process. Almost nobody relied on one source. Instead, diners described a sequence: Instagram for discovery, Google Reviews for reassurance and friends for the final push.
Restaurants that are more attractive on social media get recommended more.
One respondent put it simply: “Instagram to discover. Google reviews to see if it’s legit.” Jana Hugo described reading several Google reviews before deciding, but added that “Friends’ opinion > strangers.” Another respondent, Keke Mahlelebe, was even more direct: “Google tells me if it’s legit or shit.” As for Instagram and TikTok? “Food first, not aesthetics.” Nobody was choosing between Instagram, Google reviews or word of mouth. They were using each for a different purpose. Social media sparked curiosity. Google reduced uncertainty. Friends answered the final question: would I actually like this place?
From the Other Side of the Table

When Maybachufer’s favourite Thai restaurant, Boii Boii, started as a series of pop-ups, Instagram was its lifeline. Co-owner Nita Wolff says the team deliberately invested in social media, alongside collaborations, local press and food publications, to build an audience long before they had a permanent space. “In the beginning, we focused heavily on Instagram,” she says. A year later, she’s noticed, “Now when I ask customers how they found us, most say they’ve already been here or someone recommended us.” Google still plays an important role, particularly for tourists, but Nita says the restaurant’s biggest source of new customers is word of mouth. “Our focus isn’t Instagram anymore,” Nita says. “It’s our standard of operation.”
Rather than chasing the algorithm, Boii Boii focuses on remembering regulars, asking for feedback, refining the menu and making every visit feel personal. “We wanted people to feel like they’re at a friend’s place,” Nita says. Growing up in Thailand, she wanted to bring a level of warmth and hospitality she felt was often missing in Berlin. “We recognise our regulars. We talk to them. We ask for feedback.” She still follows food trends and regularly updates the menu and space, but not to keep up with the algorithm. It’s about giving people a reason to come back, and, more importantly, a reason to recommend the restaurant to someone else.
A Fragmented Influence

While Nita sees the shift from inside a restaurant, Per Meurling has spent the last decade watching it unfold from an outside perspective. As the founder and face of Berlin Food Stories, he’s often credited with shaping where thousands of people eat. But he rejects the idea that food creators have simply replaced restaurant critics. “Who influences where Berliners eat depends on the individual,” he says, “their age, habits, language and even what kind of dining they’re looking for.” Rather than replacing traditional critics, Per believes today’s food ecosystem is far more fragmented. “People still trust food creators,” he says, “but not in a single-source way.” Even Google reviews have changed. “I use Google reviews all the time,” he says. “But I only look at the photos. A guest’s photo tells you so much about a restaurant and a meal.”

Per also points out that influence depends on what you’re eating. Michelin and The World’s 50 Best Restaurants still shape fine dining, while casual dining is driven by social media. “What used to be a few dominant voices has become highly fragmented,” he says. “People now follow the creators whose taste they trust.” Berlin’s Döner scene illustrates the shift. Mustafa’s Gemüse Kebap became famous through guidebooks and traditional media. Today, long queues are just as likely to form outside places like Oggis after going viral on TikTok or YouTube.
A Question of Taste
Your average content creator is providing arbitrary commentary on food
Fashion influencer and comedian Bryan Inhee Lee questions what kind of recommendations social media is actually rewarding. “People in our generation aren’t reading the Michelin Guide or traditional publications,” he says. “But the prestige of those credentials still matters.” The standards of professional criticism haven’t disappeared. Most creators simply aren’t trying to do the same job. “Your average content creator is providing arbitrary commentary on food,” he says. “They aren’t judging by any consistent rubric. It’s just their taste, and you’re gambling that yours matches theirs.” In other words, compatibility has replaced authority.
Rather than asking, ‘Who knows the most about food?’, diners are increasingly asking, ‘Whose taste feels most like mine?’ Bryan believes that’s one reason restaurant content increasingly rewards aesthetics. “The state of restaurant content is messy,” he says. “It favours aesthetics over quality. They’re not mutually exclusive, but restaurants that are more attractive on social media get recommended more.”
The Trust Funnel
In a post-restaurant-critic world, we haven’t stopped looking for recommendations. We’ve stopped expecting one person to provide them. Today, the most trusted recommendation isn’t necessarily the loudest or the most authoritative. It’s the one that survives the trust funnel: the group chat, the Google Search and the friend who always seems to know where to eat. In Berlin, dinner isn’t booked when someone finds a good restaurant. It’s booked when enough evidence is gathered to believe it’s worth your Friday night.
