Dining Singly

If ever there was a book about Food That Builds Community, it’s Hungry Heart by Clare Finney.  It’s a joyous celebration of eating together, whether sharing crisps from a school lunch box, or her divorced Dad’s scrambled eggs, or eating out with a friend in Paris.  One truly surprising chapter is about eating alone in a restaurant. She never does.  What? A brilliant prize-winning food writer like Finney?  Never eats alone in public?   Her friends are astonished.  So am I. 

I wondered, what about my friends? I asked selected readers if they wished to share their thoughts.  Here they are.  Thank you thank you, for these answers.  Some came with great difficulty.  Some breezily, — it was an ingrained habit. I am grateful for them all. Am looking forward to more in the COMMENTS section, so that the blog itself can become a community of understanding.  [Each change of bullet point is a different speaker.]   

Frequency:

• When I worked I did a lot of travelling and conferences. .  Now retired, hardly ever.  No feelings of anxiety. I doubt if I ever ate alone without something to read at the table. Whatever I read is my welcome companion.
• Rarely except on holiday, travelling.  Now bereaved.  Take-aways are easier

• I eat alone in restaurants quite often. I almost always read while I am waiting for my food.  I read while I eat, too – an ebook on my phone, sometimes a print book. 

• Widowed at 32 I had to start eating alone otherwise there was no life and I’d be a recluse.  Not restaurants . Café.  I’m a habitual café- goer.  
• I’ve eaten out by myself my whole life.  I would have starved otherwise, or, God forbid, I would have had to learn how to cook.  I always take a paper.   I enjoy going to different restaurants, going out of my way to explore new ones.  I even do this on a tour, when the meal is already paid for in the hotel. 

• I rarely eat alone.  When I do, I enjoy it immensely. 
• I prefer to eat with other people. I think it’s one of the pleasures of life to share a meal with others. That said I often have eaten alone in restaurants particularly when I’ve been on holiday.

 Thoughts

• On my birthday I eat lunch alone, and look at my birthday cards, sometimes journal entries of other birthdays.
• I would never go alone on Christmas Day – people would pity me.

• I prefer to sit in a window seat or with my back to the wall so that I can have a good view of all the other people in the room.  I prefer to people-watch, not read.  I’ve never been bored. 

• I always sketch the things around me when I’m eating alone.
• I sometimes go to restaurants alone. I always sit where I can see the whole place. I love to observe other people (I hope I am not too rude.)
• Always took a book although other customers are usually too interesting.
• There’s the story of an author who would sit recording dialogue from the diners around her, to the discomfort of the staff who thought she was a food critic, assessing the restaurant. 
• I am old enough not to worry about entering a place alone. On the other hand, I am a bit worried about tips, how much should I give in the end?
• It’s interesting that eating alone in a café has a different and positive image – it’s popular during the day across all age ranges and has both street-cred and mystique, especially if the person with the coffee and light lunch also has a laptop. For all the other diners know, that solitary figure might one day be a famous author with fans who travel miles to eat at the very café table where it all began.
• I have encountered many people who are too afraid to go alone – both male and female, who are so shy about being alone that they might, say, “can I sit with you as we are acquaintances”.  I say yes of course.
• It has taken many many years to go into a restaurant and sit down and wait for my order to be taken. I do not think I stride with great confidence into that still rather imposing space, rush to spot a table (hopefully somewhere secluded).  It becomes a performance, not about eating, but sitting looking casual as though I’m comfortable. It’s not easy, and involves internal debate weighing up whether to open the door, step inside or am I really that hungry.  But enter I do.  With a book.
  

Staff

• Gone (I hope) are the days when the restaurant host enquires, “Just the one?” as you enter.
• I don’t seat myself but I do let them know if I have seating preferences (near a window, etc.)
• As a disabled person now I’m always delighted at the courtesy and little kindnesses I receive. It’s easier to be relaxed with everyone.
• Chat with staff only when they are not busy.
• It’s easier when staff get to know me, and welcome me.
• Very occasionally I have felt that I was being encouraged to leave early in order to free a table for two people or four people rather than one, but this is not usually the case.

Suggestions from frequent eater-outers

• Stand tall, look confident, be confident.
• Take a book, like I do.
• Start with a café, where things are less formal and you don’t have to wait an hour twiddling your thumbs for each course. Once you have coffee and a cake or toastie a few times you’ll begin to feel more comfortable.  And then move on to a restaurant.
• Visit one place, until the staff knows you well.
• A friend had to go to Christmas dinner alone in a remote pub in Scotland.  He brought with him his electronic singing-and-tap-dancing ostrich, set it up on his table, and played it.  Bored children gathered around him to watch his bird, and the dinner was a highlight for many. He certainly wasn’t alone.

Conclusion?

Well, well, well!.  Wonder of wonders – something I wasn’t expecting.  Ever since our ancestors had to hunt as a team to provide for the tribe, eating in a group has been such a social happening, such a together thing, almost sacred, that, when we are a single person, we build our own private community around us. It could be a book, newspaper, phone, sketchbook, birthday cards, notes, the chance of barely-recognised acquaintances to sit with, people-watching (in restaurant and window) or a tap-dancing ostrich.  In fact, we never do eat alone in public, do we?

Diana Henry’s Linguine All’amalfitana

Ingredients for two

Cook the linguine in salted boiling water.  Meanwhile, heat the olive oil in a saute pan or casserole dish, and gently fry the garlic, chilli flakes and nuts for a few minutes.  Don’t let the garlic brown. Add the anchovies and press them in the pan with the back of a wooden spoon.  They’ll melt in the heat.

 If you’re adding peas, welcome them into the pasta water when you’ve a minute of water-cooking to go.  Drain with the pasta.

Serve with grated pecorino. 

My experience:  well, despite confusing fetuccine with linguine, it’s delicious and easy.  Get the pasta cooking first, because the frying-pan bit is very quick. I prepared the peas separately, but during the meal they begged to be incorporated.

Handy tip from a Syrian friend: when boiling eggs, add salt to the water.  It makes them easier to shell.