Have you ever gone to a restaurant because of a random TikTok or Instagram Reel? Not a critic’s review, not a Google search, not a recommendation from a friend, just a short video that made you stop scrolling and think, “Yeah, I need to go there.”

That’s been happening to me more and more recently. Last week, I was lying on the couch, doing my nightly “doom scroll” through social media, when I saw a video of a small Italian spot in the city. Neon lights. Retro music. A plate of pasta twirling slowly with good lighting. I sent it to my friend and said, “We should go here.”

We didn’t check Yelp. We didn’t read a single review. We just trusted the reel.

I didn’t think much of it, but halfway through dinner at that Italian spot, I realized how random that decision actually was. Eight years ago, I would’ve looked the place up on Google, checked ratings, maybe even looked at menu prices in advance. Now I let a stranger’s camera roll decide for me. And apparently, that’s becoming the norm.

Business Insider just ran a piece titled “The restaurant review is dead. Dinner now starts on your For You page.” And I believe they’re right. A new wave of people, mostly Gen Z and younger millennials, are discovering restaurants not from critics or star ratings but from short social media videos. 

According to Nation’s Restaurant News, more than 70 percent of Gen Z and millennials have tried a restaurant in the past three months because they saw it on social media. For younger people, a trending or enticing short video is more powerful than a Michelin star.

I think part of what’s fueling it is the rise of the “foodie” content creator. Whole accounts are dedicated to trying new restaurants. These creators have basically become the new local critics. Some of them do it full time, turning their love of food into a career built on storytelling and discovery. 

I follow a few in my own city who post videos of hidden gems with cool backstories. Family-run spots, hole-in-the-wall places with decades of history, or pop-ups run by young chefs chasing their first big break. Their content isn’t just about food. It’s about the culture and connecting with the community. That’s what makes it so captivating.

This kind of content feels more real. A quick, well-edited video of a crowded restaurant with good food feels more trustworthy than a polished five-paragraph review. It’s not about reading, it’s about seeing. You don’t need to imagine the vibe, you can feel it through the screen.

I was talking to a friend about it after dinner. She said, “If I’m going out after a long week, I don’t want any bad surprises.” And that’s kind of the point. After busy days packed with work, deadlines, and endless notifications, people our age don’t want to research a restaurant. We want to see the experience, decide in seconds, and go.

There’s also a bit of a counter-culture feel to it. Critics, food magazines, and “top 10” lists used to be the standard. Now, dinner trends can be set by a 20-something-year-old with a ring light and a phone camera. It could also be a reflection of how we trust people who feel like us more than institutions that talk at us.

A recent New York Post survey found that Gen Z overwhelmingly relies on social platforms for meal planning and restaurant recommendations, while traditional review sites are seen as outdated. The feed isn’t just showing us what to eat, it’s shaping how we decide to spend.

But the shift isn’t just cultural, it’s financial too. As more of us discover restaurants through social media, the line between “recommendation” and “advertisement” gets blurry. Some of those videos are organic. Others are sponsored. And when you base your dining choices on what pops up on your feed, you’re letting algorithms influence not just your cravings, but your spending habits.

I’ve felt it myself. One week I was saving money, cooking frugally at home, feeling proud. Then a video of a sushi spot popped up, and suddenly I’m spending forty bucks on dinner because it looked amazing.

That’s the danger of this new way of choosing. The illusion of spontaneity. We think we’re being spontaneous and fun, but really the decision is shaped by the content we consume.

Still, I can’t pretend I hate it. There’s something fun about it. Food has always been social, and now it’s just social in a different way. Instead of reading a critic’s take, you’re watching someone’s experience there unfold in real time. 

My parents used to find restaurants by flipping through a newspaper or asking friends and family for recommendations. I find most of mine by watching 10-second clips on a phone screen. Different method, same curiosity.

The scroll also makes it dangerously easy to overspend. I’ve started setting small rules. If I see a spot on social media that I want to try, I add it to a list in my Notes app and wait at least a week. If I still want to go after seven days, it’s probably worth it. I’m currently trying to limit myself to one new spot a week.

The way we choose dinner says a lot about how we live. We want things that feel authentic, but also instant and low-effort. We want to feel like we discovered something, even if the algorithm technically did it for us. 

So maybe the restaurant review isn’t dead. It just evolved, from paragraphs to short videos, from critics to creators. Dinner doesn’t start with a reservation anymore. It starts with a swipe.

Next time you’re scrolling and a plate of food makes you pause, pay attention. Maybe that’s not just your appetite talking. Maybe that’s your algorithm saying, “You deserve a night out.”

Just make sure your wallet agrees.