Daily and Deli meals production and distribution

Why mixing Daily and Deli in one targeting model destroys both

Deli — food for satisfying appetite

Human needs are in constant competition. Biological needs compete with social and even spiritual ones. Eating, at its core, is an entirely physiological process. Food is energy — a kind of “fuel” for the entire body and its “flight control center,” the brain. Hunger is one of the most ancient instincts that has shaped human evolution, driving the development of tools, cognitive abilities, and social connections. It was hunger that pushed forward the growth of all forms of human economic activity, shaping modern means of production and the current model of social resource distribution. The need for water and food remains one of the most fundamental human drives and, according to Abraham Maslow’s hierarchy of needs, surpasses social, safety, and spiritual needs. It is clear that the need for food is both vital and essential because of our biological nature. The brain requires glucose for nourishment, while the body’s tissues need water and energy to function properly.

At the same time, the brain — shaped by its own physiology and by adaptation to the constantly changing chemical additives in food — has literally become “addicted” to some of them. Figuratively speaking, the brain’s hedonic tendency to seek a dopamine response from food makes consumers chemically dependent on complex flavors and aromas.

Today, food manufacturers widely use human nutritional needs to increase consumption of strategically designed foods.

The need for food competes with other physiological drives, but when balanced correctly, it can work in harmony with them. For example, the need for food (hunger) clearly prevails over curiosity or even the impulse to maintain health. But if these needs are combined into a single food narrative — such as “new healthy food” — a person merges all three needs into one, significantly amplifying it and influencing the brain’s choice of one product or another on a store shelf.

The hypothalamus contains centers responsible for hunger and thirst. A person driven by hunger tends to choose the quickest and most familiar way to get food — a trip to the supermarket, ordering delivery, or simply pouring boiling water over instant noodles.

The process of satisfying hunger is irrational because it is essentially a matter of chemistry. The human body contains special glucose receptors that constantly monitor the concentration of glucose and insulin in the blood, as well as the extent to which the gastrointestinal tract is stretched. The optimal glucose concentration in blood plasma is about 0.1%. If it falls below this level, the hunger center becomes active; if it rises above, the satiety center does. A hungry person always buys about 30% more than a person in a satiated state. Consequently, purchasing triggers can include combo offers and various discount formats that encourage people to buy more. In practical terms, during lunch and evening hours, it makes sense to introduce special promotions for certain types of ready meals — they inevitably lead to an increase in product sales.

The thalamus contains lateral and ventromedial nuclei. Damage to the lateral nucleus causes loss of appetite, while damage to the ventromedial nucleus leads to anger, irritability, and excessive appetite, resulting in rapid weight gain. In other words, people tend to eat more when they are under stress.

Another important factor influencing brain function and the body’s energy balance is the role of hormonal changes.

The human body is biologically programmed to store energy from food by increasing body mass — a process known as anabolism. When energy is expended, a process known as catabolism, body mass decreases. One of the key hormones influencing these processes is leptin, which is produced by adipose tissue. The more adipose tissue the body contains, the higher the level of leptin. As the body ages, this hormonal balance is disrupted, leading to inevitable weight gain.

Leptin signals the hypothalamus to suppress appetite. In this way, lipids stored in adipose tissue are converted into heat energy through a process called thermogenesis. A large group of other proteins also affects how the body stores and uses energy, including melanocortins, neuropeptides, and ghrelin — the so-called “hunger hormone” secreted by the stomach.

Thyroid hormones in both men and women also play a role in regulating energy metabolism. Thyroxine, corticosteroids, adrenaline, cortisol, sex hormones, and growth hormones — along with daily and seasonal hormonal rhythms — may result in fluctuations toward weight gain or loss.

The human brain responds to food through several natural reflexes — gustatory, olfactory, visual, and even tactile.

The taste centers of the medulla receive signals from the tongue’s papillae and the pharynx, identifying whether a food has a “pleasant” or “unpleasant” taste. A “pleasant” taste is registered by glucose and glutamate receptors, while an “unpleasant” one is detected by bitter-taste receptors. When food is overly salty or sour, the brain signals increased salivation, triggering a sympathetic response. To maintain balance, salt content in food should not exceed 5 grams per kilogram of product.

There are taste receptors — papillae — on the tongue that host taste buds. Each taste bud consists of receptor cells with microvilli, which contain protein molecules responsible for recognizing specific chemical substances.

The base of the tongue perceives bitterness, the middle responds to spiciness, and the tip detects salty and sweet tastes.

Food advertising is an essential component of product sales. It forms unconditioned reflexes that shape food consumption behavior.

From an evolutionary standpoint, the human brain has always been selective. Using the taste receptors of the tongue and the sense of smell, it could clearly determine which foods were safe and nutritious, and which were harmful or even deadly. Spicy, pungent, bitter, and sour foods traditionally signaled danger, while salty foods indicated the need to restore the body’s electrolyte balance. Sweet foods pointed to the presence of glucose — the essential source of energy for the brain and other organs.

At the end of the last century, Japanese scientists artificially synthesized the so-called fifth taste — umami. Food chemists developed a stable form of this flavor, monosodium glutamate, an additive that enhances the taste of food. Glutamate is perceived by receptors as the taste of protein — the taste of meat, cheese, or broth. Today, a large share of seasonings produced worldwide — such as bouillon cubes, soy sauce, and various cheeses — contain monosodium glutamate. In nature, celery, seaweed, Parmesan, mushrooms, and tomatoes are rich in glutamate. Regular consumption of glutamate leads to physiological adaptation similar to drug addiction. In doses as small as three grams at once, glutamate has an excitatory effect on the central nervous system. Since childhood, we have adapted to its taste, as it is found in a wide range of processed foods and even in some vitamin and supplement products.

Alongside glutamate, there are other amino acids — protein derivatives — that have proven biological activity and stimulate the brain. Glycine, found in meat and fish, and tryptophan, present in legumes, both have an antidepressant effect on the central nervous system. Tyrosine, contained in cheese, also causes a mild habit-forming effect and increases the body’s need for its production.

Hunger itself is an inherited mechanism from the time when human ancestors had to fight for every calorie. Hunger acts as an internal motivator, urging a person to move, to seek, to hunt — to obtain energy.

The primary purpose of food is to supply energy. The second task is to provide the building materials necessary for cell growth and renewal. Finally, salts and water are vital, as they create the optimal environment for the functioning of organs and tissues. How can we find food that meets all these needs?

The problem is solved by the human taste system. Foods that sustained the body’s health stimulated the tongue — and through it, the brain — to produce sensations of pleasure from sweet, protein-rich, fatty, and salty tastes. Humans instinctively sought out and preferred such foods. This response is hardwired in us at the innate, genetic level.

Today, food remains one of the most reliable sources of positive emotions.

A satisfying portion of delicious food rarely disappoints — it guarantees pleasure. It is highly tempting, and one suddenly feels the urge to “eat away” stress, even though the clock shows midnight — especially when the stomach growls and blood glucose levels have dropped…

And so, one has to find a balance with one’s own body: eat smaller portions but more often (without “stretching” the stomach), choose foods that are lower in calories and more natural, move more, and avoid eating late at night.

Of course, it would be convenient to have a pill that could simply turn off hunger. However, the human brain is wired in such a way that such pills usually have not only an anorexigenic (appetite-suppressing) effect but also exhibit drug-like activity, causing dependence and addiction.

Thus, the struggle both for and against calories remains a daily challenge for every person.

The deli format, therefore, represents food designed not merely to satisfy hunger but to trigger dopamine and noradrenaline responses. What kind of food is this?

• Pan-Asian cuisine

• Chinese cuisine

• Indian cuisine

• Turkish cuisine

• Confectionery products

• Enriched yeast-based pastries

• Puff pastries made with butter

• Open-flame grilled dishes

• Smoked meat specialties

• Meat-broth–based sauced dishes

Aspic and jellied meats high in collagenRich soups prepared on red or yellow stocks

DELI food responds to the innate drive of human appetite rather than the simple need to satisfy hunger.

Let us consider the business aspects of working with this category of ready-to-eat foods.

As noted earlier, the human brain — particularly its decision-making center — is driven, among other things, by a range of competing needs. Given that the brain responds positively to adrenaline, serotonin, and dopamine reactions triggered by certain chemicals or emotions, it is not surprising that the act of eating — the process of obtaining energy — is often skillfully combined with other sources of satisfaction, including:

a cozy, intimate atmosphere in the place where food is consumed (for example, music, lighting, and the aroma of freshly brewed coffee — fulfilling the need to stimulate dopamine receptors and the habit of seeking visual and emotional pleasure);

communication and conversation with others (the need for love, socialization, and adaptation);

visiting places popular among consumers (the need for belonging and identification with a certain social group);

visiting prestigious venues (the need for status and social recognition, an imitative zoosocial need);

friendly and courteous staff (the need for acceptance and affection);

the availability of a children’s corner or play area (the need to ensure the safety of offspring);

elements of play — contests, challenges, cashbacks, promotions, and entertaining events (the playful need to train motor and social skills);

tasting new products (the exploratory need for acquiring new information);

food and drink rituals such as eating with chopsticks, using gloves, unwrapping food, show-style serving, or tea ceremonies (the need for self-development and learning);

intriguing advertising narratives (satisfying the biological need for curiosity).

It is important to understand that all the needs listed above are activated only in scenarios where food is consumed in the DELI format. A person subconsciously seeks to combine the need to satisfy appetite with, for example, the psychosocial need for communication with acquaintances. The need to ensure a child’s safety while in a food establishment is also paired with one’s own cognitive and communicative needs. In essence, the DELI assortment must always be accompanied by additional sources of satisfaction that address the guest’s and consumer’s vital, zoosocial, and biological needs.

The sale of French-style gastronomic pastries made with butter — such as croissants, Danish pastries, or chaussons — proves ineffective in a cafeteria or casual fast-food setting. For such food, customers are inevitably expected to pay more. The human brain, through its sensory channels, quickly scans the environment and receives a clear associative signal: “there is nothing here worth paying extra for.” In other words, there are no sources of additional satisfaction. Thoughts like “not trendy,” “not prestigious,” “a simple interior,” “an untidy salesperson,” or “an uninviting atmosphere” appear almost instantly.

At this point, memory and emotion come into play, drawing from the brain’s library of past emotional experiences associated with unmet expectations from previous visits to similar places. It is important to note that all these processes occur within fractions of a second — almost automatically. The brain immediately forms a corresponding attitude toward the purchase, and the level of dopamine begins to drop.

Dopamine is the neurotransmitter of satisfaction and anticipation. When its level is low, the consumer has already “decided” that this particular food experience will be unsuccessful. This is precisely why creating a pattern of a satisfying visit to a food establishment is so important for each individual customer. This topic will be discussed in detail in the following chapters.

Food in the DELI format must meet specific criteria in both presentation and sale:

each item should be portioned and individually packaged; selling such products by weight is not recommended;the presentation should be creative — inventive plating and contrasting colors increase customer interest;the product must be appropriately named (we will return to food naming in more detail below);each dish should clearly target specific customer needs;the item should be offered exclusively by your establishment (guaranteed to be unavailable to competitors);the food should create memorable taste triggers — sweet, spicy, salty, meaty, or cheesy (umami);the product should be given an intentionally ethnic character;the category of the food should be highlighted and labeled (new item, healthy choice, oil-free, sous-vide, slow-cooked, etc.);the dish should remain flavorful even when served cold, without reheating.

The Brain and Food

Our perception of food is highly subjective. We experience it on two levels of cognition — emotional and rational. Sometimes we naively assume that we understand food well and can clearly distinguish the subtlest nuances of taste and aroma. We often believe that our taste receptors are finely tuned, capable of capturing every delicate shade and minor feature of flavor composition. Unfortunately, these assumptions are far from reality.

The human species has about nine thousand taste receptors on the surface of the tongue, while a shepherd dog has only about seventeen hundred. Yet dogs possess over a hundred and twenty-five million sensory glands in their noses, whereas we have only five to ten million. Smell and taste in both humans and animals are closely interconnected. For example, dogs can distinguish between meaty and non-meaty foods without seeing them, relying solely on scent. However, they cannot differentiate chicken, beef, fish, or pork without sniffing. Humans, on the other hand, often cannot determine whether food tastes good or not without the sense of smell. It is no coincidence that people who lost their sense of smell due to COVID-19 reported that all food became bland and tasteless during recovery.

For a dog, anything that smells good will automatically taste pleasant. A cat, without even touching a cake or candy, instantly recognizes it as sweet and avoids it. Humans, however, must engage a far more complex sensory system to determine what is tasty, healthy, or appealing to eat at a given moment — what should be consumed and what should be avoided.

A person eats because the body needs energy, and our energy-intensive brain consumes between 20 and 25 percent of the body’s total energy. A chess player, while sitting still during a game, can lose up to 5,000 kilocalories — two and a half times more than a tram driver would expend in the same amount of time. Our brain is a biological processor that, working under constant load, consumes large amounts of energy derived from glucose.

Why doesn’t the human brain identify flavors as easily as the brain of a cat or a dog? There are several reasons for this. First, over hundreds of thousands of years of evolution, the human sense of smell has atrophied. When humans transitioned to an agricultural way of life, they no longer needed to detect prey from a distance. The domestication of animals, especially dogs, further contributed to this decline. Today, our taste and olfactory receptors have become so interdependent that without smell, we simply cannot perceive taste. Try a simple experiment: take several colorful candies, choose five different flavors, close your eyes, and pinch your nose. Then, place each candy in your mouth one by one and try to guess the flavor.

The moment you “turn off” your sense of smell, taste disappears automatically.

The second reason why we struggle to discern flavors lies in the psycho-emotional and hormonal background that influences both eating behavior and the environment in which food is consumed.

The emotional level is made up of our taste-emotional memories, stored in our biological computer — the brain. These memories are inherently subjective.

For example, imagine a café where you once had a negative experience. Now, finding yourself there again out of necessity, the food may seem a bit saltier, less fresh, and less tasty. The reason is that the moment your brain visually identifies the place, its safety centers automatically classify it as “unsafe.” Such danger signals are processed by the most ancient parts of the brain — the same ones that once helped our prehistoric ancestors avoid food poisoning.

In addition, when we are afraid, anxious, dissatisfied, or upset, our hormonal balance changes significantly. This, in turn, affects how we perceive different tastes.

As we can see, the process of sensory and psychosomatic perception of food is extremely complex and multifaceted.

When we speak of sensory systems, we usually focus on sight, hearing, taste, and smell.

Sensory systems display enormous diversity — far greater than memory or motivational centers — and they consume up to 80% of the brain’s total energy. Their task is to interpret the external world, constantly analyzing the environment. Meanwhile, the brain works to maintain the body’s internal equilibrium — homeostasis. The external world, on the other hand, continuously introduces chaos into the brain’s functioning.

How We See Food

We eat with our eyes first. This is the brain’s primary way of assessing whether a product is suitable for consumption. Two optic nerves from both eyes transmit visual information to the thalamus and hypothalamus, creating a three-dimensional image — for instance, of an apple.

Lighting plays a crucial role in how we perceive food. Inside the brain are specialized nerve cells that synchronize with daily light rhythms, as well as neurons connected to seasonal cycles of illumination.

For example, when it is dark in the morning, we feel a stronger need for coffee. The cells linked to wakefulness help us get up, while those that respond to nightfall connect to the sleep centers, helping us rest.

That is why cafés and coffee shops should have dim lighting, while fast-food outlets should be bright and dazzling — to keep the brain alert and focused on obtaining food energy.

The flow of information about food is captured by the eye’s photoreceptors and transmitted to the thalamus — the brain’s information-processing center. These photoreceptors tell the brain that an eggplant is purple, a watermelon is red, and a lemon is yellow — and that this is “good.”

Color information about food is processed in the brain’s visual cortex, which occupies about 20% of the cerebral cortex. This is a relatively small share. In primates, however, it reaches up to 65%, meaning that monkeys can determine with high accuracy, by color alone, whether a fruit is suitable for eating. In humans, this part of the cortex has been largely replaced by associative zones, which means that we compare what we see with previously stored images and use those associations to determine a food’s attractiveness.

It is also worth noting that, in addition to color, the neural networks of our brain very quickly identify the lines and shapes of food. Humans are naturally drawn to angular shapes. It is no coincidence that in recent global trends in pastry design, small sculptural forms often feature elements of geometric minimalism. When the brain perceives straight lines, they attract particular attention. Thus, a sharp, angular slice of cheesecake is far more visually appealing to the brain than a soft, rounded madeleine cookie.

The shape of food is directly linked to the centers of positive and negative emotion. The human brain has a strong preference for straight lines and symmetry and often reacts with discomfort to asymmetry. Line and color work together: for instance, a salad served in a blue, teardrop-shaped bowl will likely be perceived negatively, while a bright Greek salad in a black polypropylene container placed against contrasting green artificial grass in a display case will draw much more attention from the brain.

How We Perceive the Smell of Food

Smell is our primary distant sense. It allows us to receive information even from afar. For the olfactory system, this information comes in the form of groups of volatile molecules, which must first enter the nasal cavity with the air, then dissolve in mucus, and only afterward act on the olfactory receptors.

The substances that create odors — called odorants — must be water-soluble.

Biologists and neurophysiologists consider the human sense of smell relatively weak compared to that of animals and to our other senses. Yet when it comes to eating, taste, and aroma perception, the sense of smell undoubtedly plays the leading role.

The olfactory receptor itself is a cell shaped somewhat like a bowling pin, with a nerve extension — an axon — that leads to the brain.

On the thin end of the axon are tiny neural cilia, which actually perceive the aroma, the smell of food. Thus, olfactory receptors are primary sensory receptors: they both detect a signal and transmit it directly to the brain.

Until the late twentieth century, the global scientific community believed that humans could perceive only seven primary smells: minty, floral, musky, ether-like, camphoraceous, pungent, and putrid. All other scents were thought to be combinations of these seven basic categories.

About twenty years ago, during the study of the human genome, scientists discovered that the reality was far more complex. It turned out that there are thousands of genes responsible for olfactory receptors — protein structures that detect odors. This finding was astonishing, given that the human genome contains only about twenty thousand genes in total. Roughly ten percent of our DNA, therefore, is devoted to the perception of smell.

It is now well established that approximately four hundred of these olfactory receptors remain functional. In 2004, American researchers Linda Buck and Richard Axel received the Nobel Prize for this discovery.

These four hundred receptors, like notes in an orchestra, generate a complex and seemingly random palette of aromas in the brain. Composers can write magnificent symphonies using only seven notes. Now imagine that there are four hundred of them. Does such diversity create a kind of sensory cacophony? Not at all. In fact, the aroma of food is perceived differently by every person. For one individual, a scent may seem pleasant and appealing, while for another it may be unpleasant or even repulsive. This is not because the four hundred olfactory receptors of different people project information to the brain in different ways. Rather, it is due to the individual learning experience of the human brain. From birth, the olfactory receptors of Homo sapiens record information about smells, thereby teaching the brain, which in turn catalogs and organizes these aromas in its library of olfactory memories.

Our memory is associative. You may have noticed that certain aromas instantly evoke specific nostalgic memories. The fact that millions of people love a particular holiday salad does not mean that the four hundred olfactory receptors of every person are tuned the same way through evolution. It only shows that large groups of people, shaped by culinary tradition, have filled their olfactory memory with recollections of eating that dish during family celebrations. The combination of familiar ingredients forms a clear associative chain — “holiday,” “birthday,” “flavors of childhood,” and so on. Our olfactory memory is not limitless; the capacity of this biological “hard drive” is finite. Some taste associations from childhood remain in the brain for life, while others are gradually replaced by brighter, newer impressions.

It is important to understand that the flavors of childhood are the easiest to evoke and utilize in contemporary gastronomy. It is far simpler to sell a nostalgic dessert or a traditional cottage cheese pastry than a sophisticated multi-layered dessert. The reasons for this have already been explained above.

This means that the same combination of taste and aroma — what in English is referred to as flavour — defines a single perception.

Thus, it is now clear that the human olfactory system is highly and individually embedded in the brain. We perceive smells not only on the level of “like” or “dislike,” but even at the level of “detectable” or “undetectable.” The olfactory image of food is therefore highly complex.

The aromatic image of duck confit, for instance, is not simply the sum of separate smells of duck, rosemary, thyme, and shallots. It is a kind of olfactory whole — a mental construct formed in the brain from hundreds of signals, assembled in a distinctly individual way.

The complexity deepens when we consider that each specific odorant molecule has multiple molecular sites, meaning that different parts of the same molecule can interact with different olfactory receptors. What does this imply? It means that the very same scent can be perceived quite differently at various times of day or under different biological and hormonal rhythms. We must remember that aromatic molecules are volatile; therefore, in different contexts, the same coffee blend can produce two entirely distinct sensory impressions. I often hear colleagues remark over a cup of coffee, “It doesn’t taste the same today.” If you’ve ever felt the same, don’t worry — most likely, it’s the same coffee made by the same hands. The difference lies in the extraordinary complexity of your individual olfactory system.

Neurophysiologists and biologists studying human olfaction have already identified about one hundred molecules that activate only a single type of olfactory receptor. Aroma marketers have long made practical use of this knowledge, employing the scents of coffee, roasted meat, marzipan, and cinnamon to attract guests to cafés and restaurants.

At present, around one hundred such molecules have been identified, while another three hundred olfactory receptors respond to scents that remain unexplored. It is still unclear which specific molecular patterns they detect. All of this, of course, greatly complicates the work of food engineers when creating particular aromas and flavors.

If we adhere to the theory of evolution and assume that our ancestors once lived in the waters of the world’s oceans before moving onto land, much becomes clearer.

Fish and amphibians are highly skilled at distinguishing when to rely on smell and when on taste. Most chemical substances are dissolved in water, making them difficult to detect.

First and foremost, fish respond to reproductive signals — a form of olfactory communication between individuals — through pheromones. These include pheromones of fear, aggression, and reproduction, all of which shape behavior and the perception of taste and smell. In other words, fish primarily sense the odors of other fish and react strongly to them. Their taste receptors, meanwhile, are distributed throughout the body — from head to tail — and are adapted to detect edible plankton.

The primary function of smell is self-preservation, followed by reproduction — and only then, feeding. Before finding food, an organism must first ensure it will not become food itself.

When primitive organisms began to move onto land, evolution transferred taste receptors into the oral cavity, while the olfactory system branched off into a separate one, taking on broader functions — primarily identifying surrounding objects. Over time, this function became more distant, enabling animals — and later humans — to sense objects from afar. This ability became closely tied to predatory behavior and the need to pursue and kill prey — only afterward determining which parts were edible and which were not.

The Brain and Taste

From the perspective of Darwin’s theory of evolution, humans are social animals. Initially, all our ancestors in the animal kingdom developed a taste system as a means of protection. Our entire taste system exists to determine the quality of food. It answers a simple question: is a given food edible or not? At first glance, this might seem straightforward, but the overall perception of taste is formed by more than flavor alone. It combines taste, smell, and tactile sensitivity — all of which together create a complex sensory image that evokes positive or negative emotions. Taste perception is a vital part of our sensory and emotional lives.

As mentioned earlier, the human tongue is covered with taste receptor cells that die and regenerate every fourteen days. Everyone knows the unpleasant sensation of burning the tip of the tongue — for a while, its sensitivity disappears. Then the basal cells take over. These are the stem cells of our body. Once restored, the receptors again perceive the four primary tastes: sour, sweet, bitter, and salty. Relatively recently, scientists also discovered receptors for the protein taste — umami — as well as for saturated fatty acids.

Ongoing research now suggests that humans may also possess receptors for calcium, starchy foods, and even water.

Food is evaluated in terms of its nutritional value to the body. First, it must serve as a source of energy. Energy comes from carbohydrates — monosaccharides and disaccharides. This is why we have sweet taste receptors that respond to glucose and glucose-like molecules. Second, food provides building materials — primarily proteins. Hence, there are receptors sensitive to glutamic acid, the most common amino acid among the twenty that make up proteins.

Evolution has tuned itself to glutamate as a signal of protein-rich food. The human brain is organized so that when sweet or protein tastes are detected, the signal travels to the medulla and pons, activating feeding behavior. These innate responses are already perfectly developed in infants. A baby detects the mother’s milk, sweetened by lactose and proteins, which in turn triggers sucking, swallowing, and salivation reflexes.

In addition, signals from sweet and protein tastes are transmitted to the feeding centers in the hypothalamus, where positive emotions are generated. We are wired in such a way that sweet and protein-rich foods appeal to us innately. Of course, nutritionists advise controlling calorie intake, but the flow of positive emotions associated with eating these foods is immensely significant. That is why it can be so difficult at times to resist another piece of candy, a bit of chocolate, or a sandwich.

Things are somewhat more complex with sour and salty tastes. A mild sour flavor is perceived as pleasant, but when its intensity increases, it begins to damage the mucous membranes — a sensation the body instinctively dislikes, triggering defensive behavior. The situation with salt appears to be similar. Our ancestors lived in environments where sodium chloride was scarce, yet it played a vital role in maintaining the proper composition of intercellular fluids and blood plasma. As a result, the taste system evolved to interpret small amounts of sodium chloride as beneficial. However, consuming it in excess activates the body’s defense mechanisms, leading, for example, to elevated blood pressure. Lightly salted food, containing a modest amount of sodium chloride, tastes better to us than unsalted food — it is a legacy of our evolutionary past. Today, when sodium chloride is abundant, doctors warn that its consumption should be limited.

The most complex case is that of bitterness. Bitter taste arises from molecules that are often plant-based toxins and immediately trigger defensive behavior. If you offer something bitter to an infant, they will spit it out and cry — these are innate reactions, just like sucking, swallowing, and salivation. The only difference is that the latter promote food intake, while those associated with bitterness serve to reject inedible substances. Moreover, the signals connected with these reactions are transmitted to the centers of negative emotions in the hypothalamus, as well as to the regions responsible for defensive behavior, producing a strong aversive experience. Yet at some point, we begin to seek new taste sensations, finding pleasure in a cup of unsweetened coffee or tonic water. Still, true, intense bitterness unmistakably provokes a negative response — one comparable, for instance, to the sensation of pain.

Bitter plant toxins are chemically diverse, as plants have evolved various ways to defend themselves from herbivores, producing a wide range of molecular structures. The perception of sweetness, sourness, saltiness, and protein taste requires only one or two types of protein receptors. In contrast, about forty types of molecular receptors have been identified that are tuned to different forms of bitterness. There is a whole range of chemical compounds that cause people to perceive bitterness differently — more strongly or more mildly. This variation also affects our overall perception of food. Many products, such as cruciferous vegetables like broccoli, contain such compounds: some people barely notice them, while others experience a distinct bitter aftertaste. Individual taste perception, even at the level of the taste system itself, is largely linked to bitter receptors.

The sensation of bitterness truly serves as a signal that we have consumed something undesirable. Recently, researchers have described an immune response to bitter taste. It turns out that the receptors located deep in the throat not only generate taste sensations but also activate the immune system. From this follows an obvious conclusion: medicine should taste bitter, since its bitterness additionally stimulates the nonspecific immune response, enhancing the effect of the drug’s active molecules.

The signal from the tongue travels through the cranial nerves to the medulla and the pons. The primary taste centers are located at their junction, where the nucleus of the solitary tract resides. It is from this region that the reflex arcs originate — those that trigger sucking, swallowing, salivation, and the secretion of gastric juice. From there, the taste signal ascends further, branching toward the thalamus and the hypothalamus.

The hypothalamus is responsible for the emotional perception of food. As it is also attuned to the body’s internal environment, this emotional perception largely depends on our current physiological state. For example, during pregnancy, when women experience toxicosis, the hypothalamus enters an unstable state — which explains sudden and often unexpected food cravings. This is a clear hypothalamic response.

The main signal ascends to the thalamus, where taste sensitivity is processed in its medial nuclei. If the signal passes through, it continues upward to the cerebral cortex. The primary taste center is located at the bottom of the lateral sulcus, within the insular cortex. Here, a unified perception of taste is formed — this is where taste and olfactory signals converge, along with input from the somatosensory system. Their connection is well known: when something is wrong with the sense of smell, taste becomes noticeably simpler and less engaging.

In certain pathological conditions or after injury — for example, when the tongue is burned by various chemical substances — taste sensitivity can disappear. When this happens, even with smell and tactile sensation intact, eating becomes impossible: the absence of taste turns the perception of food into something completely inedible. People describe this experience as being unable to swallow food, comparing it to chewing plasticine. Without the contribution of the taste system, food ceases to be perceived as food. It becomes clear that the taste system enriches our lives profoundly — both on a sensory and an emotional level.

DAILY — Food for Satisfying Hunger

Every day, more than one hundred million people eat outside their homes at least once. Children and school students eat in kindergartens, schools, summer camps, and after-school programs. Adults have their meals in offices and factory canteens, in shift buffets, or in cafés and restaurants during business lunches. Organized groups are fed several times a day in hospitals and correctional institutions, in the army and navy, in social care facilities, and during athletic training camps.

Food consumed in the Daily format is fundamentally different from Deli food. People are not ready to eat sushi and rolls, pastries and cupcakes, Pad Thai noodles, or pepperoni pizza every day. Primarily, this is because we are genetically conditioned to perceive food as a source of energy. At this level, two key biological needs are activated — the need for glucose (carbohydrates to nourish the brain) and the need for protein (to build and repair cells). Our traditional mashed potatoes with a cutlet or pasta with beef Stroganoff are far more than nostalgic symbols of a past era. Similar dishes exist in German and Serbian cuisines, as well as in American and Latin American food traditions. People everywhere need proteins and carbohydrates to work, maintain endurance, and sustain physical and mental activity.

In the production format of Daily food, the price factor plays a crucial role. People tend to think in terms of a “budget.”

According to an internal survey conducted by our team among more than five thousand visitors to canteens and cafés across twelve mid-sized cities between 2020 and 2022, the following criteria were identified as key factors influencing the decision to purchase ready-made food outside the home:

1. Satiety and caloric content

2. Price and the ability to have an “affordable” meal

3. Quality and taste characteristics

4. Cleanliness and sanitary condition of the establishment

5. Variety of menu and assortment

6. Speed of service / ability to eat quickly

7. Quality of service, friendliness, and politeness of the staff

8. Naturalness of ingredients

9. Trust in the brand or company

10. Other factors

As the survey results show, respondents primarily value the satiety of food and the ability to eat inexpensively when dining outside the home.

These findings are further supported by an extensive study conducted by a major food delivery aggregator at the end of 2020. In that study, the company analyzed sales data from tens of thousands of food service establishments partnered with the platform, supported by a large courier network.

According to the aggregator’s quantitative sales ranking, burgers occupy the first place. In second place are various potato-based dishes. Soups rank third, followed by chicken snacks in fourth. Salads take fifth place, desserts and ice cream sixth, flatbread sandwiches seventh, sushi and rolls eighth, pizza ninth, and finally, shawarma rounds out the top ten.

The top four positions in the ranking are occupied by hearty, heavy dishes — essentially calorizer foods designed to provide the consumer with energy. These meals are simple, unrefined, and rather limited in terms of taste and aroma complexity.

Interestingly, there are notable regional gastronomic differences. When examining sales statistics in major metropolitan areas, the leading items include grilled meat formats, sandwiches, spring rolls, hot dogs, and pasta — all typical representatives of the Deli food category. In smaller cities, which account for the majority of total sales traffic, the picture is quite different: pancakes, cottage cheese fritters, regional dumplings, shawarma, pelmeni-style dumplings, and chicken in sauce dominate the list. All these dishes fall within the Daily format — everyday, energy-rich food intended to sustain physical and mental activity.

This difference is not accidental. In metropolitan areas, people are more exposed to novelty, ethnic flavors, and sensory stimulation. Their consumption often shifts from pure satiety to appetite, experience, and variety. In smaller cities and in mass social catering environments, the priority is different: predictable energy value, stable portion size, and affordability. This is precisely why Daily food is always driven by two parameters before anything else: carbohydrates and proteins.

Daily food is not built to surprise. It is built to support life. It solves the task of feeding a person in a way that keeps the body functional and the brain productive. It must be familiar enough to be chosen without hesitation and stable enough to be trusted day after day.

At the business level, Daily food creates an entirely different retail and production logic. Unlike Deli food, where triggers are driven by appetite stimulation and emotional reward, Daily food is purchased through rational filters: satiety, price, speed, cleanliness, and predictability. This means that Daily food is most sensitive to operational discipline. If an establishment loses portion control, violates pricing stability, slows down service, or fails basic hygiene expectations, sales collapse quickly because the consumer’s choice is not emotionally protected.

For Daily food, standardization becomes a competitive advantage rather than a creative limitation. Portion stability, consistent taste, and clear pricing build long-term trust. And long-term trust creates traffic, which in turn is the only reliable economic foundation for high-volume everyday food.

Daily and Deli as two different neurological and commercial products

When we describe ready-to-eat food in a single category, we create a strategic mistake. Daily and Deli may both be sold in the same physical space, they may even share certain production assets, but in the customer’s brain they exist in two different universes.

Daily food is purchased to solve the problem of hunger, energy, and stability. Deli food is purchased to solve the problem of appetite, stimulation, novelty, and emotional reward. These are different motivations, different triggers, different times of day, different price elasticity profiles, and different reasons for repeat purchase.

Trying to build one universal ready-meal assortment that satisfies both goals usually leads to a confused shelf, weak conversion, and unclear positioning. The customer does not necessarily articulate this confusion, but the brain feels it instantly. If the environment does not match the expectation, dopamine drops, trust decreases, and the purchase becomes less likely.

Daily. The logic of predictable energy

Daily food is built on predictability. It is chosen quickly, often without deep comparison, because the brain is trying to minimize decision fatigue. The buyer needs a stable solution that works every day. The most important promise of Daily is not delight. The promise is that the product will do its job.

Daily food must be portion-stable. It must be price-stable. It must be operationally stable. The consumer expects that a familiar meal will taste familiar. Even minor variations may be interpreted by the brain as risk, especially in environments where meals are purchased repeatedly.

Daily food also has a strong connection to routine and time. Breakfast and lunch purchases are usually strongly linked to time pressure. The buyer’s brain evaluates three variables simultaneously: how quickly I can get this food, how predictable it is, and whether it will actually satisfy hunger. In this scenario, sensory novelty is secondary.

From an assortment perspective, Daily is not about breadth. It is about coverage of the most frequent needs with minimal friction. A Daily assortment should behave like a reliable toolkit. The consumer does not want to study it. The consumer wants to use it.

Deli. The logic of appetite, stimulation, and experience

Deli food operates through a different set of reflexes and expectations. Here, the product is not only food energy. It is also a dopamine narrative. It is food as a micro-event.

Deli food is attractive when it signals something beyond nutrition: novelty, ethnic identity, premium cues, indulgence, sensory complexity, and a feeling of reward. Deli can be purchased when the consumer is not hungry in a strict physiological sense. It can be purchased because the brain wants stimulation, a break from routine, and emotional satisfaction.

This is why Deli food almost always needs a context. It needs a reason to exist in the customer’s mind. It needs a supporting environment, even if minimal: correct display, visual contrast, creative naming, a sense of exclusivity, a sense of story, a sense of category identity. Without this support, Deli food loses its purpose and becomes simply expensive food.

Why mixing Daily and Deli in one targeting model destroys both

The biggest strategic error is not selling Daily and Deli in one place. The error is mixing them in one targeting model and one communication narrative.

Daily and Deli attract different buyers, or the same buyer in different psychological states. The ad that works for Daily will not work for Deli, because the brain is looking for different promises. The offer that converts in Deli may destroy Daily trust if it makes Daily feel chaotic or overpriced. The tone that is appropriate for appetite stimulation is often inappropriate for everyday functional meals.

The same logic applies to shelf architecture. If Daily is displayed like Deli, it looks overpriced and suspicious. If Deli is displayed like Daily, it looks boring and loses premium cues. The brain reads the shelf as a single message. If that message is contradictory, conversion drops.

How Easy2Cook structures the system: one company, two separate product universes

Easy2Cook treats Daily and Deli as two separate product universes that can coexist operationally but must remain distinct in market logic.

Daily is structured as everyday food infrastructure. It is designed for repeat purchase, stable energy delivery, predictable portioning, and clear value perception. It is optimized for operational efficiency, cost control, and reliability.

Deli is structured as appetite-driven retail. It is designed for sensory triggers, novelty, ethnic identity, premium cues, and emotional reward. It is optimized for assortment creativity, display performance, naming, and strategic exclusivity.

This separation allows the company to serve both needs without compromising either.

Final statement. NPD creates both formats, and targeting is never mixed

The key principle is simple. Our NPD specialists create both Daily and Deli food, but they never mix the targeting of these projects. Daily and Deli are developed as separate product strategies with separate assumptions, separate performance metrics, and separate consumer promises. This is how Easy2Cook builds two strong ready-to-eat categories inside one system without blurring the meaning of either one.

by Fedor Sokirianskii, Easy2Cook founder