Every timed kitchen game on this site gives you more to do than there is time for. That is the genre. What varies is where players think the difficulty lives, and most of them get it wrong for the first hour.
The intuition is that these games test speed. They do not, or at least not primarily. A level in a time-management kitchen is far more often lost because an oven stood empty for thirty seconds than because a plate went out two seconds late. The oven, the grill and the fryer all keep working while you are somewhere else; the assembly counter does not. Anything that runs unattended is free time you either used or wasted.
The rule, and what it looks like in practice
Start the slowest unattended process first, then fill the gap. On a burger counter that means the patty goes on before you reach for a bun. In a restaurant with several stations it means reading two tickets ahead and putting both slow items on before plating anything. In a kitchen with a menu spanning cuisines it means knowing which of your stations is the oven-equivalent, because it will not always be the one that looks busiest.
The counter-intuitive part is that following this rule makes you feel slower. You spend the first few seconds of a level apparently doing nothing useful, and the queue is longer than it would be if you had started plating. It resolves about a third of the way in, when the plates that were started early all come due together.
Where it does not apply
Two kinds of game in this catalogue break the rule. Contests, where a rival works alongside you, reward finishing rather than throughput — there is no queue to build, so starting slow costs you outright. And launchers and reflex games, which look like kitchens but are not, have no unattended process at all.
Everything else, from a hot dog stand to a diner with staff to assign, is the same problem in different clothing: find what runs without you, start it, and spend the waiting on something else.