THE METHODOLOGY · ISSUE №01 · FIELD GUIDE
How Harry scores.
No 'AI'. No 'algorithm'. Just opinion, with some maths to back it up — the whole game, workings out shown.
From the editor's desk
Section I
Two scores, two questions.
The quality question
Harry Hungry Score
Is it any good?
Range: 0 → 100
A weighted blend of every voice that's already written about the place. Each source pulls its own weight — literally — and Harry adjusts for noise, sample size, and the louder forms of self-promotion.
Sources are normalised to a 0–100 scale, weighted, blended, then nudged up or down by the anomaly flags in Section III.
The mix
- Google ratingThe civic vote. Volume — when it shows up.
- 35%
- Yelp ratingSharper, crankier, occasionally unhinged. Useful for moderation.
- 20%
- TripadvisorTrusted lightly. Skewed by visitors with the wrong shoes.
- 10%
- Editorial criticsEater, Infatuation, the broadsheets, the Michelin lot.
- 25%
- Reservation & recent buzzHard-to-book, trending up, written about this week.
- 10%
The value question
Worth It Score
Is it worth what it costs?
Range: 0 → 100
Price isn't penalised on its own — Harry doesn't think dinner should be cheap, he thinks it should be fair. Four signals decide the Worth It Score, and the badge below tells you what kind of value you're getting.
A £180 omakase can be Worth the Splurge. A £14 burger can be False Economy. The price tier is context, not the verdict.
The mix
- SatisfactionQuality of cooking, consistency, service, ambience.
- 55%
- Fairness of the billPortions, comparable nearby options, whether you'd feel mugged.
- 20%
- DistinctivenessHard to replicate — the thing the chain down the road can't do.
- 15%
- Hype taxThe premium you're paying for the photograph, not the dinner.
- 10%
Section II
The blend.
Per kilo of finished score, this is the kitchen.
─ HARRY HUNGRY SCORE — THE RECIPE ─
Yield: one rating, 0–100. Serves: a hungry party of one.
─ Adjustments to taste ─
- +A pinch of distinctive cooking
- −A fistful of tourist-trap signals
- −The entire kitchen if it's spotty
- −Generous tablespoon of hype, where it's earned
Method: weigh, blend, rest, taste. If something's missing — no Tripadvisor presence, no critics — Harry redistributes the weight across whatever's left and lowers the confidence accordingly.
filed: kitchen no. 01
Section III
When the sources disagree.
Eight specific arguments Harry has with the data, every time he builds a list.
Flag: google-high-yelp-low
Google high, Yelp low
Google says four-point-six. Yelp says three-point-two. This is usually a Bay Area thing — Google reviewers gave it five stars because they had a fine evening. Yelp users gave it one star because the host said 'good evening' to the wrong table. Harry trusts the delta itself as a signal: when it's big, expect a place that's polished on the surface and uneven once you sit down.
Harry knocks 3 points off until the kitchen settles down.
Flag: yelp-high-google-low
Yelp high, Google low
The reverse. Yelp loves it, Google's cool. Often a neighbourhood favourite that hasn't been found by the lunch-crowd-with-strollers yet, or a place whose regulars have an axe to grind in the comments. Harry leans toward the locals here, but he's not naive about it.
Adjustment: −3. Same delta, different direction, same caution.
Flag: tripadvisor-high-locals-low
Tripadvisor high, locals low
The classic tourist trap. Tripadvisor's giving it five stars and a chef's-kiss banner, the actual people who live in the postcode are quietly going somewhere else. This is the trattoria in Trastevere with the laminated menus and the man outside saying 'come in, come in, my friend'. Run.
Adjustment: −2. Possibly more if the laminated menu has photographs.
Flag: critic-loves-crowd-divided
Critic loves it, crowd's divided
Eater gave it a rave. The room is split. Usually one of two things: a chef doing something genuinely interesting that not everyone clocks, or a chef doing something interesting that doesn't actually taste very good. Harry will tell you which side he's on, but you should know going in that the table next to you might disagree loudly.
Adjustment: −1. Small, because sometimes the crowd is wrong.
Flag: low-sample-size
Not enough people have eaten here
Fewer than 25He needs about 250 reviews before he'll quote it with a straight face. Below the floor he'll still recommend the place if the editorial pile is strong, but the number on the badge gets a polite asterisk.
Adjustment: −4. The single biggest auto-deduction in the engine.
Flag: rating-recently-trending-down
Rating's been falling, lately
The all-time average is fine. The last six months are not. A chef left. A landlord raised the rent. The owner's son took over. Whatever it is, the people writing reviews this quarter are quieter, or angrier, than the average. Harry takes the all-time number with a pinch of salt.
Adjustment: −3. Could be a blip; could be a slow-motion closure.
Flag: tourist-skew
Loved by tourists, ignored by locals
Heavy visitor footfall, glowing out-of-town reviews, suspiciously few comments from people who say 'my local'. Often perfectly fine — sometimes a museum-grade clip joint. Harry'll still list it if the food's good, but he'll tell you you're paying the view tax.
Adjustment: −2. Pair this with a Tourist Tax Warning badge below.
Flag: hype-risk
Hype risk
Queue down the street. A waiting list of six weeks. Everyone you know has posted the same dish. The food might be excellent — but the line between 'genuinely brilliant' and 'genuinely brilliant marketing' is thinner than the menu suggests. Harry's not anti-hype, he's just allergic to paying for it twice.
Adjustment: −2. Heavier if the queue is part of the photograph.
Section IV
Worth It, badge by badge.
Eight verdicts on the bill. The number gets you within ten points; the badge tells you what kind of value it is.
- Great Value
Punches well above its bill. You'd happily pay more.
For instance:The Vietnamese on the corner doing a £9 bún chả that ruins every other lunch in the postcode.
- Smart Spend
Fair price, fair plate, no surprises either way.
For instance:A neighbourhood Italian where the carbonara is correct, the wine is fine, and the bill is exactly what you expected.
- Worth the Splurge
Not cheap, and not pretending to be. The cost is the point.
For instance:A tasting menu with three sommeliers and a chef who's been doing this for thirty years. You'll feel it. You'll be glad.
- Occasion Worthy
Save it for the birthday, the apology, the proposal.
For instance:The river-view dining room that's a bit much on a Tuesday — exactly right on an anniversary.
- Cheap but Cheerful
Won't change your life, won't bankrupt you. Honest food.
For instance:A back-of-the-pub Thai kitchen, paper menus, half the chairs wobble, the green curry is excellent.
- Paying for the Scene
You're buying the room as much as the dinner. Know that going in.
For instance:A rooftop in Shoreditch where the lighting is better than the squid. Worth it if you came for the lighting.
- Tourist Tax Warning
Priced for the visitor, not the resident. The locals know.
For instance:Every pasta place within fifty paces of a major piazza. Including the one with the queue.
- False Economy
Cheap, and you'll feel it on the way home.
For instance:Patty Shack on the El Camino — £14 burger that crashes you out by four in the afternoon.
Section V
Confidence.
Every score in the dispatch ships with a confidence value between nought and one. Below 25 reviews, Harry treats the rating as a rumour. Above 250, he treats it as gospel. In between, he weighs accordingly.
Confidence drops further when critics haven't weighed in, when the opening hours are missing, when nobody's mentioned the place in the last six months. A low-confidence pick can still be a great one — Harry just tells you he's working off thinner evidence so you don't bet the wedding on it.
Section VI
What Harry doesn't know.
- He hasn't tasted the food. He's working from what other people wrote down.
- He misses brand-new openings nobody's written about yet — give it a fortnight.
- He misses the lovely little place down the side street that's never been reviewed. Sorry.
- He doesn't know about your dietary requirements yet. He's learning.
- He doesn't read every Reddit thread, every Substack, every group chat — yet.
- He has no opinion about whether you should have ordered the wine pairing. You should.