A table, in three taps
Date, covers, sitting. If the visitor has to think about which of two sittings a Friday runs, the page has not done its job.
A twenty-eight cover room with a menu that changes weekly is not a chain, and its website should stop trying to look like one.
Restaurant sites fail in two directions: a PDF menu from 2019, or a booking widget that owns the customer and takes a cut. A small room’s site should be honest about the constraint and make the constraint the reason to come.
A small room above the tide line with a menu that changes weekly, so the site is honest about the constraint rather than pretending to be a chain. The table booker is the first thing you meet, and it tells you which nights run two sittings before you pick one.

Marram is a fictional business in an invented Suffolk town, built to the same standard as paid work and deployed to its own address. It is set to noindex so it can never compete with a real restaurant in search — everything indexable about it lives on this page instead.
Date, covers, sitting. If the visitor has to think about which of two sittings a Friday runs, the page has not done its job.
A menu that changes weekly needs to be readable and printable, not a photograph of a chalkboard.
Naming the boat, the farm or the day’s landing does more for a small kitchen than a photograph of somebody else’s plate.
On a quay, in the dark, from a car park five minutes away. A drawn plan beats a map tile for the last two hundred yards.
Website, built and handed over, from £300. A website designed, built and handed to you outright. You own the site and the hosting account, and there is nothing to keep paying me. Later changes are £49 an hour, only when you ask for them, and there is a monthly option at £89 if you need software as well as a site.
Quotes are fixed and in writing before anything starts, and I show you the finished site on a development link before asking for a penny.
Tell me what your business does and how people currently find you. I build it, show it to you finished, and hand you the accounts at the end — you own what you pay for.