Food Processing Simulator Review (PC)

Automation sims are among one of the toughest genres to capitalize on, with the vast majority of them either falling victim to a generic paradigm or into a pocket that, frankly, only one in ten people actually enjoy complimenting with their cash injections. It’s a tough sell, and it’s only very rarely that one of them does enough to sway the tide in its favor and appeal to the masses. Take Satisfactory, for example. In that case, you had everything strewn together—satisfying progression, easy onboarding, and a hook that made each and every upgrade feel substantial and capable of pioneering a new technique. But for Food Processing Simulator, a lot of those crucial nodes don’t really make it to the mechanism. Don’t get me wrong, it has the heart of a cog, but it often struggles to work in tandem with the big wheel, so to speak.

Like your typical conveyor belt automation sim, you essentially have a bunch of factory appliances to work with, as well as a docket of tools, upgrades, and all sorts of business synergies that can either overhaul the system, or steer you towards a swift victory in the market. Also like your traditional sim, you also have a stepping stone procedure to clamber over—a slow and often long-winded process that mostly involves taking small but seemingly irreversible steps to earn, build, and pivot your brand into a comfortable position on the career ladder. So, a bog-standard automation sim, really.

Food Processing Simulator is exactly as it sounds: an over-the-table business sim in which you create your own food processing factory, and utilize a conveyor belt system to manage, package, and deliver vast quantities of goods in exchange for a quick buck and an opportunity to expand your production base. And if you think you’ve heard that idea before, well, that’s because you have. See, Food Processing Simulator doesn’t do anything to alter the schematic of a modern automation sim; instead, it grasps the same functions as its counterparts, and it leans into all of the same tropes that, honestly, you would have clocked dozens of times over in the past. This isn’t a bad thing, but it hardly gives you much to look forward to, annoyingly.

Of course, you don’t need a lecture on automation ideologies to understand how a game like Food Processing Simulator works. Here, it’s all etched into the same cornerstone as your average cliché. In other words, you don’t need a wealth of experience to grasp the fact that the more conveyor belts you have in your factory, the more efficient the service will become. It goes a little deeper than that, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out. It does, however, take a patient soul to understand that nothing comes easy, and that flawless victories don’t come in small packages, but in dozens of monotonous chore core tasks that, frankly, aren’t always worth celebrating. Stick with us, though — we can still save this one.

Picking & Packing

If you’re vaguely familiar with automation sims, then here’s the good news: Food Processing Simulator is a crutch that you should, with any luck, know how to use. It starts out simple, with a small workshop and a business ethic that prioritizes evolution and growth over mass distribution and development. But then, after a few major tweaks of the ol’ system, it becomes a well-oiled machine—a system that you can rely on to produce vast quantities of products and earn your a paycheck. Getting to that point, however, requires a keen eye for gaps in the market, and a willingness to broaden ingredients, scheduling demands, and other managerial responsibilities that can ultimately propel the company forward and into the nether zone of growth and profitability.

If you’re wondering whether or not there’s fun to be had here — yes, there is, but only if you’re the sort of person who enjoys snail-like progression and familiar gameplay hooks that lean into monotonous chores and rewards that only appear once in a blue moon. If you’re hoping to slip into the fray of an endless series of unpredictable events and ever-evolving challenges, however, then it almost pains me to say it, but you won’t find any of that organic goodness here. Yet, it comes with the territory — that generic rags-to-riches formula. It isn’t for everyone, but it ought to resonate with a select few. Probably.

Processed Monotony

I jest, in ways, because behind a common veil lies a rather enjoyable automation sim that fosters some relatively solid features and avenues of exploration. The core experience is, well, it’s about as black and white as the conveyor belts and bolts that launder the food packaging. Yet there’s a good amount of depth here, with some good business milestones and areas to consider and effectively expand. It isn’t always satisfying work, and it doesn’t always cough up all that many perks for you to snatch up, either. But, there is a carrot on the end of its stick. It’s just finding the time to get a whiff of it, that’s the problem.

From an audiovisual standpoint, Food Processing Simulator is a very, very generic game, with the same cardboard silhouettes and dull greyscale textures as a bog-standard chore core simulator. It isn’t pleasant to look at, is what I’m saying. But then, that hardly comes as much of a surprise, given the subject matter and the fact that, well, it’s a video game about storing processed foods in a warehouse and what have you. A+ for authenticity, then.

Verdict

Food Processing Simulator falls into the same box as a traditional automation sim, but reluctantly accepts its limitations as a somewhat dull and tedious game that doesn’t always know how to deliver the goods, so to speak. This isn’t to say that it’s a bad game; it’s more the case that it doesn’t have the audacity to overthrow its conveyor belt adversaries with the tools that it has at its disposal. It’s a little dull, and it has little else to offer outside of its generic appeal a novelty factor that, frankly, has been recycled more times than I’d like to admit. That’s not to say that it won’t appeal to a specific demographic, mind you. Oh, it will definitely appeal to the target audience, though it’s unlikely that it will amass universal acclaim. That’s the way the (processed) cookie crumbles though, I guess.