Automachef

Robots, Recipes, and Rage-Quits—Automachef Turns You Into Gordon Ramsay’s Circuit-Board Cousin!

Story
Plot? What plot? You’re a nameless engineer enslaved by a robotic overlord named “The Company” to optimize fast-food dystopias. The “narrative” is a series of passive-aggressive emails like “Customer satisfaction dropped 0.3%. Do better.” There’s no character development, no twist—just you, a cold LED screen, and the crushing realization that even robots hate soggy fries.

Graphics
Clean, clinical, and about as lively as a hospital cafeteria. Conveyor belts glide with hypnotic precision, machines hum in sterile whites and blues, and your robot chefs spin like over-caffeinated DJs. The art style screams “IKEA instruction manual,” which is fitting because assembling a working kitchen feels like building a Malm dresser blindfolded.

Audio
A symphony of beeps, clanks, and robotic whirrs that’ll make you miss your microwave’s hum. The soundtrack? Lo-fi beats for spreadsheet enthusiasts. The only voice acting is a text-to-speech bot barking “Order delayed. Penalty incurred.” Pro tip: Mute the game and play Cooking Mama ASMR for sanity.

Gameplay
A logic puzzle wrapped in a nervous breakdown. Place conveyors, deep fryers, and assemblers to transform raw slop into “gourmet” meals. The first few levels are toddler mode—“Connect Point A to Point B!”—but soon you’re juggling 17 machines, timing delays, and robots that forget how to flip a burger. One wrong tile and your kitchen becomes a Honey I Shrunk the Kids death trap. The satisfaction of a flawless system? Chef’s kiss. The 47th restart because a tomato rolled off-screen? Chef’s rage.

Score 9 out of 10

I don’t remember this game having a story beyond just a guy who wants to open a restaurant automatically. That’s it — nothing more. And you, the player, are the one who has to deal with all the problems to make it happen.

Sleek, sterile, and soulless—like a Tesla factory. Perfect for those who think ”aesthetic” means “no crumbs allowed.

Beeps and boops that’ll haunt your dreams. The clang of a failed order is the sound of your soul cracking.

Puzzle perfection for control freaks. Like Tetris, if every block was deep-fried and judgmental.

PROS / CONS

  • Brain-melting puzzles for OCD architects.
  • The euphoria of a perfectly optimized kitchen.
  • Clean, minimalist aesthetic (great for screenshots!).
  • Teaches you to hate food service and robots.
  • No Gordon Ramsay yelling—just silent, digital disappointment.
  • Zero tutorials—hope you like Googling “how conveyor belts work.”
  • Repetitive mid-game levels (how many burger joints does one planet need?!).