Yesterday around lunchtime, I decided I was in the mood for some green curry. There’s a Thai restaurant called Ginger Hop that’s just down the street from our office. I keep forgetting it’s there. But yesterday, I remembered. Deliciousness.
I went to the Google, searched for, and immediately found Ginger Hop. Went to their website, and wow! Is it beautiful!
The graphic captures the spirit of our neighborhood perfectly. Love the colors. Love the rickshaw and the dude in the boat. Love the photoshopped Grain Belt sign. The whole thing made me happy.
Now. Because there isn’t any real navigation system—only a few icons—I intuitively didn’t expect additional content pages on the site. So when I clicked on “Menu,” the PDF file that appeared didn’t surprise me. I read the menu, I ordered the food. And then I was done. It was fast, it was easy, and I enjoyed the experience.
In the moment, I also thought it was sort of funny that I’d had such a great experience on site with no copy. So I tweeted about it.
I didn’t think much of it. But half an hour later, when I went to check my Twitter replies, there were a LOT. Many were surprised—even disappointed—that I liked the site.
I couldn’t argue with any of these points. What’s worse is that the site actually is missing some really important, valuable content…for example, their live music schedule (which they post on Twitter, which how would I know that unless I clicked on their Twitter icon):
Conclusion? This site, while lovely and simple, is actually a bit of a train wreck when it comes to content. So why did I tell my entire Twitter audience—the majority of whom look to me for content strategy guidance and insights—that this was a standout restaurant website?
Because I assumed everyone else’s needs were exactly the same as mine.
Don’t do that.
Do user research (even if it's just talking to a few of your friends who like to eat out). Be diligent about conducting stakeholder interviews. Tool around on competitor websites. Don't just go straight to the exciting pow! of your visual design.
Doing content-focused research (considering product, process, and people) early in any design process—or as an ongoing activity to support iterative content improvements—will keep you from becoming fascinated by your own navel. Because at some point, we all mistake subjective opinions for objective analysis. And, inevitably, you’ll end up alienating some portion of your audience whose needs and preferences are much different from your own.
In closing, I will say that the green curry was quite good.







