When Appetite Changes, Experience Design Must Follow
Confession: I can’t handle a seven-course tasting menu anymore. Not because I don’t want to. Because I physically can’t.
Roughly 8% of U.S. adults are now on GLP-1s (I’m one of them). Many projections suggest this number will at least double before the end of the decade. Meanwhile, restaurants are leaning further into longer formats: pop-ups, collaborations, seven, nine, even twelve-course tasting menus.
On a GLP-1, your relationship with food changes fundamentally. By the third or fourth course, it becomes a negotiation with your own body – pacing yourself, staying present, trying not to hit a physical wall before the meal is over. And when that wall comes, no amount of beautiful plating or brilliant technique can pull you back into the experience.
For the record: I haven’t lost interest in the experience. In 2025, I ate out over 200 times across 99 restaurants in 10 cities. This isn’t about cost (although that merits a post of its own). It’s simply about stomach capacity.
When I dine out, I’m not paying for calories alone. I’m paying for the chef’s point of view, the service, the room. Multi-course menus work against that now; increasingly, they’re enough to make me pass entirely.
I don’t want to pass.
The industry has always adapted to how people eat. This feels like a natural next adaptation. It raises a simple question: How can a “full experience” feel complete without being physically overwhelming?
- A tighter menu that delivers the same creative ambition in fewer courses?
- Formats designed for sharing without sacrificing the integrity of the chef’s vision?
- Portions scaled to the experience, not the other way around?
Whatever form it takes is less important than the principle: preserve the arc without overwhelming the guest. As more diners’ appetites change, formats will inevitably shift. I know I’m not the only one who will welcome it.
Photo by Jason Leung on Unsplash
