A grid decides how much fits. This room prints one cha chaan teng menu on a laminated A4 sheet four times — as a manuscript, in columns, in modules and as a hierarchy — with the same dishes and the same type sizes on every sheet, and counts what lands on the front, what goes on the back, and how much of the paper is type.
The answers are not the ones the screen-trained eye expects. The column grid that looks crowded puts the whole menu on one side; the modular grid that looks generous needs both, and leaves half the back blank. Neither is wrong. A grid is a promise about the content, and a laminated sheet is where that promise gets paid for in paper.
Fit the grid to the content when
- The items are unequal — long names, short names, a set with three lines of what it includes — and equal cells would cut some and pad others
- The reader compares: prices down one line, times beside each section, the cheaper route through a set
- The space is fixed, as a printed sheet is, and every millimetre a cell wastes is a dish on the back
Fit the content to the grid when
- The items are genuinely equivalent and visual, and a picture does more work than the words
- The content changes often and has to drop into place without anyone designing it again
- There is room to spare — a scrolling screen, not a laminated sheet — and the regularity is worth the space it costs
Why traditional: The four grid types are long-standing practice in print and on screen. The counts here are measurements of these four sheets, not of grids in general, and the clocks measure one reader, once.