Valentine’s Day is right around the corner, and Shake Shack understands that sometimes, the best way to someone’s heart is through their stomach. Shake Shack recently teamed up with DoorDash to release a new dating app for sandwich lovers: Eat Cute.
Available until February 15, Eat Cute helps hungry singles find their match online using Shake Shack’s new Buffalo Chicken Sandwich as incentive. If you and a potential suitor both swipe right, you get “matched” and have the option to make a move by sending a promo code for a free sandwich.
“This February, Shake Shack wants all our single fans to find love in a hopeless place — online,” Jay Livingston, Shake Shack’s chief marketing officer, said in a statement. “By partnering with DoorDash for ‘Eat Cute,’ we are hoping to use our Buffalo Chicken Sandwich to light the initial spark and help singles everywhere spice up their dating experience.”
Once you match with someone, you have the option to send them “a unique promotional code for a free Buffalo Chicken Sandwich from Shake Shack on DoorDash.” (The terms later clarify that to receive the free chicken sandwich, your order must meet a minimum $20 requirement, the price of the chicken sandwich included.) Also, you only get a code for a free sandwich when you make an actual match, and if they choose to send you the code — so while you can swipe on as many hungry singles as you want, you can’t bank on getting a discount code.
As a single person who has been on her fair share of dates, pandemic Zoom calls, and even made a few dating profiles, I figured I had nothing to lose by signing up for Eat Cute. I’ve left my dating profiles in the hands of my friends, so why not leave it in the hands of a fast-casual chain restaurant and food delivery service? Best case, I find love. Worst case, I don’t find love, nor do I get a free spicy buffalo chicken sandwich. Nothing gained, nothing lost (except maybe a bit of dignity).
Desperate, bored, hungry, and broke, I ventured to LetsEatCute.com and started building my profile. I was asked for some basic information, including my name, pronouns, and sexual preference. I was prompted to upload a selfie, so naturally, I panicked – on Eat Cute, you’re limited to a single picture (unlike Tinder, Hinge, or Bumble, which all let you build a profile), and can’t edit your picture or profile after the fact. Only after seeing my potential matches did I realize that I definitely could have (and probably should have) used a fake name.
After much deliberation, and some encouragement from my roommate, I uploaded a Snap from a trip to NYC last summer. In hindsight, I would have chosen a selfie that was a bit more silly – it quickly became clear that I took myself WAY too seriously, especially compared to other users.
Next, I had to tell the app “how spicy I like it.” The options ranged from “lettuce be friends” to “too hot to handle” with other dating-related food puns in between.
I had the option to enter my Instagram handle, which I could later opt to send to matches if I wanted to connect on social media (it’s not visible on my public profile). All that was left was entering my cell phone number and agreeing to the terms and conditions. After accepting that this may be one of my more humiliating dating moments, I hit send and refreshed my browser.
It was time to Eat Cute.
There really are two strategies to Eat Cute, depending on what you’re looking to get out of it. If you’re trying to find true love, you can (1) only swipe right on the people you would pursue; or you can (2) hit the flame button for anyone and everyone in hopes of matching with someone just as hungry as you are.
There’s no criteria for age or preferences beyond sexuality, and I matched with guys ranging from middle schoolers (the Minecraft shirt gave you away, bud) and men who looked like they could be my grandfather (ew). And just because you’re on a dating app designed by a restaurant chain, it doesn’t mean you’re safe from dating app stereotypes – even Eat Cute has its fair share of stand-up comedians. Plus, there were an unsettling amount of people who used celebrity headshots, dog pictures, or mask-fishing sunglassed selfies.
In the name of science (and because we were curious), I asked my friend (a straight male) to log on to Eat Cute and see how female profiles compared to the men in my feed. Unlike the guys’ selfies I was seeing, most girls chose staged shots that are fair game for Instagram. (I feel like this says a lot about societal pressures on females, but again this is a corporate restaurant’s dating app, so I digress.)
After about four rounds of swiping and forty potential matches, my profile popped up on my friend’s feed. He clicked the flame, only somewhat begrudgingly. When I refreshed my feed, his profile was there, and I swiped right.
Okay, so maybe it was staged, but I had my first match on Eat Cute. Next, I got a text from Jill at LetsEatCute notifying me that I matched with “Blake” (my friend), along with a link to his profile, and the option to send a code for a free chicken sandwich, as well as share my social media handle. I chose not to divulge my Instagram, but I did send a code for a “Buffalo Chicken Surprise.” He also sent me a code for a free sandwich, so I guess there’s a third strategy for Eat Cute: find an equally hungry friend, and swipe with each other until you match.
I had three other matches, and sent them all a discount code (if chicken sandwiches be the food of love, then eat on), but didn’t receive any promos in return. I’m not sure if there’s a limit to the amount of codes you can receive, or if I was just being used for a free sandwich. Given the general vibe on dating apps, I wouldn’t be surprised.
Am I going to hedge my bets on meeting my foodie soulmate on Eat Cute? No. Am I going to get a free chicken sandwich? Maybe.
TL;DR: Eat Cute appears to be more about free sandwiches than finding true love.
Since the app doesn’t have a chat feature, you’re asked (but not required) to include your Instagram handle; once you match with someone, you have the option to share your info and connect on socials. Given the amount of personal information on my Instagram profile, and no way to verify that my match is, well, a real person, the idea that they could view my profile and even slide into my DMs is a bit unsettling.
Brb, I’ll be embracing the single life until further notice — and I will be enjoying my free chicken sandwiches while doing so.