Server
Orders
Build a check, split it, discount it, close it out.
Point of sale for venues
Cue configures to the room instead of the other way round — and it runs on the iPads you already own. Create a venue tonight and open on it tomorrow.
No demo booking. No sales call. No hardware to buy.
Colour is urgency, not decoration — the same five roles on every screen. Sent from the floor, on the pass before the server looks up.
Why Cue
Most point-of-sale systems assume one shape of venue and sell you the whole package regardless. Cue starts from the opposite end.
A food truck turns off the host stand. A cocktail bar turns off the kitchen. A two-hundred-seat dining room turns on everything. Cue hides what a venue doesn't do rather than making you scroll past it — so the same system fits a counter café and a full service floor without either one feeling like a compromise.
No terminals to buy, no hardware contract, no per-station licence. Cue is a web app that installs like a native one — its own window, its own icon — on any iPad, laptop or phone already behind your bar. Add a screen because tonight is busy, not because you bought one.
No demo booking, no sales call, no switchover weekend. Draw your floor, import your menu, add your staff — an evening's work, done by you. If it turns out not to fit, you've spent an evening rather than signed a contract.
See it
Not mockups — the running app, on the demo venue you get when you sign up.
Every table, its status, and the check sitting on it. The host rail on the left is the door — walk-ins and the next booking, close enough to seat someone without changing screens.
Fits your room
Two things change here and neither is a mockup. Your venue type decides which screens exist — that's a real rule in the app, not an illustration. The moment decides what they're showing. No plan tiers behind either one.
Your screens
No bookings, no waitlist — so the host stand never appears. The floor stays: a truck usually has a queue and a couple of tables outside.
Bookings, but nothing sold by the plate. No kitchen, and no menu screen either. What's left is the room, the diary and who's working.
Everything on. Sections and courses, tickets by station, reservations beside the queue. The full shape.
The room right now
A Tuesday in February. Most of the room is grey and Cue says so rather than dressing it up. Nothing blinking for attention — the app should be boring on a night like this.
In the weeds, and the pass says so first. T3's course has been up eighteen minutes. The kitchen display ages a ticket by itself — amber at five, red at ten — so the thing that needs you finds you instead of you finding it. The floor stays deliberately calm: status and the money on it, nothing blinking.
One check left and the kitchen is down. Cue already has the night — covers, sales, what sold and what didn't. Nothing to reconcile in the morning.
What's inside
Every surface a shift touches, sharing one set of tables, one menu and one team.
Server
Every table, its status, and the money sitting on it.
Server
Build a check, split it, discount it, close it out.
Line
Tickets on a display that shows the pass what’s late.
Host
Waitlist and reservations, with who has waited how long.
Owner
Categories, modifiers, prices and what’s 86’d tonight.
Owner
Roles and permissions, and who is on the floor now.
Owner
The day, the week, covers and what actually sold.
Owner
Card payments through Stripe, paid straight into your own account — Cue never holds your money.
Live by default
Everything moves at once. Fire an order and the ticket is on the kitchen display before the server looks up. Seat a party and the floor changes on every screen at the same moment — not a sync that catches up every thirty seconds, but one live connection. Which is why nobody has to shout across the room to ask whether table nine went out.
A server fires the course from the floor.
Already on the pass — and only the hot half. The Caesar routed itself to Cold.
one live connection · no polling · no refresh
Pricing
Unlimited devices, unlimited staff accounts. You are charged for the room, not for every screen in it — adding an iPad at the bar on a Friday should not change your bill.
Final figures are still being set. Create a venue now and you'll see them before anything is charged.
Your first evening
You do this yourself, in the order below. The demo venue is already filled in when you sign up, so you can poke at a working restaurant before you build your own — or just keep using it to practise.
Sign-up is a short wizard — you, then what kind of venue, then the venue itself, then a review before anything is created. It opens on four fields, and the address later is geocoded as you type, so the map on your profile is right without you hunting for coordinates.
The venue-type answer is the one that matters most: it decides which screens exist for you. Change your mind later and the nav changes with it.
Sections first, then drop tables into them and drag them where they actually are. Round or square, however many seats. The demo floor is ten tables across four sections — main dining, patio, bar and a private room — which is about fifteen minutes of clicking.
It is worth doing properly. A floor that matches the room is what lets a server find table nine without counting.
Categories, items, prices, modifiers, and which station cooks each thing — that last one is what routes a ticket to the grill instead of the pass. Import a file or type it in.
The longest step, and the one worth an actual coffee. Expect to tidy modifiers by hand afterwards; every menu is opinionated and no importer gets them all right.
A name, an email, and a role. The role decides what they see — a cook opens straight into the kitchen display and never has to find it, and nobody but an owner sees the money.
Then open. If the first night goes badly you have lost an evening, which is the whole argument for doing it this way round.
Running the account
The boring questions matter more than the demo does, because they're the ones you'll care about at eleven o'clock on a bad night — or the day you decide to leave.
Getting your data out
Orders, line items, voids and server performance export as CSV. The weekly summary and the Z-report come out as PDF. No ticket to raise, no waiting on us.
Every export is written to an audit log — who ran it, what range, how many rows. That's there for you, not for us: it's how you find out who pulled last month's numbers.
Who sees what
A role decides which screens exist for that person and what they can change. A cook opens straight into the kitchen display. Only an owner sees billing or touches the subscription.
Devices and sessions
Settings lists every active session with its device and when it was last seen, and marks the one you're on. Revoke any of them from there.
Worth knowing on a shared iPad that stays on the pass, or the shift after someone leaves.
Before you sign up
Every one of these is true today. We'd rather lose you here than on your second Friday — and if none of them apply, everything else on this page is worth more.
Questions
Cue needs a connection. If the venue's internet drops, the app keeps the screen you are on but cannot send an order, fire a ticket or take a payment until it is back. We would rather say that plainly than find out together on a Friday.
Offline service is the next hard problem on the list, and it is a real one — a POS that half-works offline is worse than one that tells you it is offline. Until it ships, treat Cue the way you treat your card terminal: it needs the network.
Yes. Plenty of venues start with Cue on the door and the floor — the waitlist, reservations, and who is sitting where — while orders and payments stay where they are. Nothing about Cue requires you to move everything at once, and starting small is how you find out whether it fits your room before it matters.
Whatever you already have. Cue runs in a browser and installs as an app on iPad, Android tablets, laptops and phones — its own window and icon, no app store. There are no Cue terminals to buy and no per-screen licence, so adding a tablet at the bar for a busy Saturday costs you nothing.
For card payments you will need a Stripe-supported reader, or you can take payment however you do today and use Cue for everything else.
Card payments run through Stripe, into your Stripe account — not ours. Payouts, timing and fees are between you and Stripe on their standard schedule. Cue is the POS; it is not a payment company and never holds your money.
Yes — there is a menu importer, and the structure it expects is categories, items, prices and modifiers, which is what almost every POS exports. Expect to tidy a few things by hand; a menu is opinionated and no importer gets every modifier right.
New. Cue is early and built by a very small team, which is why the pricing is not final and why there is no wall of customer logos on this page. What that buys you: the person building it will answer you, and what you ask for can still change the product. What it costs you: some of it is unfinished, and the offline answer above is the honest example.
Tell us what's missing
If something on this page doesn't fit how your room actually works, that is the most useful thing you could tell us — more useful than a feature request. It goes to the people building it, not to a queue.
Send us a noteOne more thing
A cue is the signal for the next thing to happen — which is the entire job of a dining room. Draw the floor, import the menu, run a shift on it. Nothing to install, nobody to call.