In France, the platforms pay you for running well

Both platforms run their own courier networks, and that changes what they optimize for. A storefront that accepts orders promptly, quotes prep times accurately and rarely cancels is cheap and predictable to serve; reliability of that kind is widely understood to help placement. A storefront that runs late makes the platform's own delivery promise unreliable, and ranking treats it accordingly.

Which makes the first weeks of work unglamorous. Opening hours that match reality. Item availability kept current so nobody hits a blocked basket. Prep times set to what the kitchen actually does on a Friday at eight in the evening, not what it manages on a quiet Tuesday. Packaging that survives the ride. None of it looks like marketing; all of it changes what ranking gives you for free.

Only then does paid placement make sense. Advertising a storefront that cancels is buying reach for a bad experience — and with two platforms carrying their own riders, one kitchen problem costs you on both at once.

Uber Eats and Deliveroo both sell sponsored placement through an auction, and both will spend whatever you give them across the whole day if you let them. Most of the waste we find is not overspending in total — it is spending flatly, so budget drains in the quiet hours between services and runs short in the window it was meant to win.

We pace budget by hour and weekday, per storefront, concentrated where your kitchen can take the volume and paused where it cannot. Across the stores we manage, pacing alone cut roughly 30% of wasted ad spend before a single new offer ran. The aim is not to spend less; it is to have both platforms bidding for you when it counts.

Item names and descriptions written in French for someone scrolling a phone, not machine-translated from a printed carte. Photography for the dishes that carry the basket. Category order that puts what you want sold above the fold. Formules and modifier groups built as delivery products, with hours and pricing that still work once commission comes off.

The target is basket size as much as order count, because a bigger ticket keeps more of its value after commission than an extra discounted order does. Our own partner storefronts came out of a rebuild with average basket size 38% higher. A formule that bundles a plat with a side and a drink does that work; the same items listed separately, each competing for a tap, do not.

We track menu conversion per platform alongside it — the share of people who open a storefront and order — because the same dish list can perform differently on the two apps, and the weaker one usually says where the next rebuild hour should go.

Week one is access and a store scan. You add OrderLift as a manager on both back offices, which is a permissions change rather than an integration: no POS work, no new hardware. We read your own history — what sells, what gets refunded, when your peaks really are, where each storefront sits on menu conversion — and come back with what we would change and in what order.

Week two is the first plan: the menu rebuild, an offer calendar and an hour-by-hour budget shape per storefront, every line with its expected effect beside it. You approve line by line, we publish what you approved, and the storefront changes that week. After that the cycle is weekly, and reporting is net payout against your baseline from before we started — the same baseline our pricing is measured against.

OrderLift is based in Amsterdam and works remotely; the relationship runs on that weekly exchange, in English with you and in French for your customers. Every result on this page was produced by our 60+ partner restaurants, all of them in the Netherlands and none of them French — we are not going to dress them up as French case studies. Anything on this site that belongs to a platform's own published benchmark is labeled as theirs.