Why does a wheel settle this faster than talking about it?
Because the hard part was never picking — it was being the person who picked. Two people who both say they do not mind are not undecided; they are declining to own the choice. A wheel owns it, and neither of them has to.
The list is where the real decision happens, and the list is yours. Anything on the wheel is something you have already agreed to eat, so whatever comes up is acceptable by construction. That is why the wheel works even though it knows nothing about food.
What if there is one you would rather have?
Weight it. Give the favourite a two and everything else a one, and it comes up twice as often without ever being certain — which is usually a better description of how you feel than either picking it outright or leaving it entirely to chance.
There is a quieter use for the same trick. Spin, then notice whether the result is a relief or a disappointment. If it is a disappointment, you knew what you wanted, and the wheel has told you something the list could not.
Can I keep the list?
Save it once and it is there next week. The same six places come round again and again, and a saved wheel opens with them already on it — signed out it stays in this browser, signed in it follows you to your phone.
Two lists are often better than one: a weeknight wheel of things that arrive in twenty minutes, and a weekend wheel of places worth sitting down in. Switching between saved wheels is one control in the toolbar.
What else is this wheel good for?
It is the plain picker wheel with a short list on it. When the question is not where but whether — cook, or order at all — the yes or no wheel is two segments and one press.
Anything else you cannot choose between works the same way on the decision wheel. A list of questions instead of dishes makes it an icebreaker wheel.