The salmorejo goes up twenty cents. Now where do you change it?

On the blackboard, yes. On the website, when you remember. On the QR menu, if you know how. On the till, when the technician turns up. Meanwhile every one of them says a different price.

It isn't a till. It's the whole thing, together

The till is only one piece. Your website, your QR menu, the table plan and your customer records are the others. They're connected, and they're one monthly fee.

Two things worth saying plainly:

• You host nothing. No computer in the back room that switches itself off, no hard drive filling up. The server is in Europe, and keeping it running, updated and backed up is included. That is a good part of what you would be paying for.
• Customer records matter if you take bookings. If yours is a stand-at-the-bar place, you won't care, and that's fine. If you have a dining room and regulars who book, it earns its keep: knowing the Martínez family comes every other Thursday and drinks the same wine is what makes them feel remembered.

There is no price yet. It's a monthly fee, not a purchase and not a licence, and you'd know the number before anyone else if you're interested.

One place where you write the menu

You edit from your phone, in Spanish, using your own menu's words. Everything else updates itself: the website, the QR menu and the till.

A screen anyone understands on day one

Tabs for your categories, buttons for your dishes and your prices, a floor plan of your actual room. Runs on any tablet.

• A floor plan of your actual room and terrace, not a list of numbers.
• Half and full portions as two buttons, or one button with an option.
• Modifiers: no onion, rare, to share.
• Shift changes and end-of-day cash-up done for you.

The wifi drops on a Saturday at two. Nothing happens.

The till keeps taking orders and taking money. When the connection returns it catches up by itself. Not one ticket is lost.

The law you'll be sold in a hurry. You have until 2027.

The tax agency will require every ticket to be recorded, signed, chained to the one before it and printed with a QR code. It isn't optional and it can't be edited afterwards. But it isn't for tomorrow.

What matters for you, in three sentences:

• If you're a company, your date is 1 January 2027. If you're a sole trader, it's 1 July 2027.
• The digital certificate is yours (from the FNMT) and the records live in your database. They pass through nobody else's hands.
• This part carries no fee. The fiscal module is free and maintained by the company that makes the till, not by me.

The QR doesn't carry what your customer ate

It carries fiscal data: your tax number, the ticket number, the amount and a verification code. Not the dishes, not the table, not how many were sitting at it.

Ten or twenty-one: it depends on where they eat it, not on what it is

The most expensive confusion in hospitality. The same beer carries different VAT depending on whether it's drunk at the bar or taken away.

You'll finally know how many tortillas you gave away last month

In Granada the tapa comes with the drink. That isn't a problem to solve — it's how this works. But until now it was invisible.

A tapa at €0.00 is an ordinary line on the ticket. If the waiter taps it after the beer, three things happen: the kitchen sees it, you can count it, and absolutely nothing changes about what you charge or the VAT you pay — a zero line adds no taxable base, and the 10% on the beer already covers the whole service the tapa is part of.

At the end of the month you can see that 340 tortillas and 41 remojones went out, and buy accordingly. Or never tap them and leave everything exactly as it is. It forces nothing on you.

If you ever want to leave, you don't start from zero

The till underneath is free software used by thousands of businesses worldwide. It isn't something I invented that only I can fix. And that changes what happens the day you no longer want to work with me.

With most tills on the market, leaving means starting over: you retype the whole menu, you lose the sales history, and sometimes you can't even export your own data. That isn't an accident — it's the business model.

That can't happen here, because the important part isn't mine. Odoo is maintained by a Belgian company with thousands of customers; the fiscal module is made by that same company. If I vanished tomorrow, there are hundreds of integrators in Spain who work with this every day and could pick up your database and carry on.

Now the honest part, because "portable" doesn't mean "free" or "automatic". The database is yours, but I pay for the server. If you leave, you can't simply pick it up and run it: you need somewhere to put it — another provider who works with Odoo, or your own server. Someone has to set that up and restore the backup, and that's a day's work for an integrator, not a click. You'll be paying someone for that hosting, just as you'd have been paying me.

What you're spared is the genuinely expensive part: retyping the entire menu, losing your sales history and starting over with your customers. And what you don't take is the management panel, the website and the sync — I built those, and they're exactly what the monthly fee is for. That seems a fair deal to me, and I'd rather say it upfront than afterwards.

What isn't done, said before you ask

If I only show you the good parts, your first surprise arrives when it's too late. Here's what's missing.