Conversations with my food

 For dinner last night, not feeling particularly hungry I ate a bag of peas. Raw peas in their pods, I didn’t crunch my way through a bag of frozen petit pois. Still hungry an hour later I added to the feast with a couple of Peters Yard crisp breads and smoked trout pate. If I’m alone, it’s my choice.

Brought up to believe that food is to be shared, a social occasion,

eating alone conjures up loneliness. Is one fun?  Eating alone can make me feel as if I’m being punished.

How many of us don’t bother cooking because ‘it’s just for me’ or eat standing at the sink or in front of the open fridge? Do we ever turn that around and celebrate the possibility and pleasure of eating at the open fridge because there’s no-one around to point a finger?

Eating alone can be meditative, contemplative or swing right round to boring, frustrating, annoying, something to be cancelled out.
The relationship is with the food on my plate in front of you.

At home alone do you:

Eat at a table
Or

Eat in front of the TV?
If the former do you eat to the accompaniment of the radio or music? Do you read a book or the paper?
Can you honestly say that if eating alone it's just you and the food on your plate?

I find it really challenging to eat at the table. I know I should eat consciously. It’s just that I don’t want to. After a long day I want to collapse on the sofa. I want immediate gratification.  I want to make sure that whatever I’ve recorded on Sky + is there ready and waiting for me.

There are people who are happy to dine on a bowl of cereal or toast because they can’t be bothered to cook. Am I the only person who does bother?

When I’ve time, I’ll cook in advance, enough to last me a few days and I’ll congratulate myself for being organised. so that I just need to reheat when I come home. That’s if the amount I cook doesn’t get polished off in one evening. Note to self; Portion Control.

Two people I know who work hard and live alone have very particular eating habits. One who works in the food world will get home late and order a takeaway. She’ll never cook for herself. The other won’t eat anything hot; it has to be a salad or a piece of cake. Both eat in front of the TV. I have yet to meet anyone who dines solo seated at a table.

Is eating alone more a matter of eating self consciously, than eating consciously?

A few days ago I ate lunch alone. Asking for a table for one, the waiter repeated back my request, but he said ‘only one’. Why is one ‘only’ and why should that make me feel apologetic or self conscious?

Today at the farmers’ market, I found myself using the dreaded word ‘only’ when asked how many people I was buying for. Only one.

Eating in public alone has different rules whether it’s a supper club, or fine dining to casual every day dining and pubs; to holiday and travelling eating.

At a supper club food is king, at a restaurant it's possible that no one cares what they eat. It’s easy to go to a supper club alone as chances are you’ll be placed at a shared table with other like minded people. I’ve done this several times when I couldn’t find anyone who wanted to go. I’m past the point of staying at home because my friends aren’t foodies!  But still there will usually be a comment of admiration because I’ve dared to dine alone.

Eating alone in restaurants takes courage. For some it is the pinnacle of pleasure. I wish I could locate the quote from a 1940's set novel in which one of the characters celebrates his birthday with a solitary dinner at Rules & relishes every moment.

It’s drummed into us that food is to be shared. There aren’t many food adverts that show a solo diner. Always the complete family and two children or group of friends. Are we supposed to feel guilty if we’re childless or partner less? Hell no.

A solo diner never advertises a food product.  It would be seen as greed personified.  There’s something inherently gluttonous about eating alone in public view. The social aspects are cancelled out so therefore the food is under the spotlight. For women especially, it can be uncomfortable, and there’s something unladylike about that. Reclaim what’s rightly yours. Are women still supposed to be lady like and eat like birds? To leave most of the contents on our plates. The classic line always quoted is not ordering chips and then pinching them from the boyfriends’ plate.  I love seeing women eat honestly, with gusto.

Some years ago whilst working for the TV unit of the Foreign Office, I was assigned to accompany a Thai film crew who were making a documentary about Northern Island. We landed in Belfast and the crew, jetlagged and uninterested in Belfast nightlife had an early night. I on the other hand was not unduly suffering the stresses of such a short flight from the UK and itching to meet Belfast. Room service was dull and depressing, and would cost me almost as much as a meal out. I took myself off to Roscoffs, then making waves in Belfast city centre. It didn’t worry me that I was alone. I was on official business, I had expenses, I was power dressed, and I hasten to add, the British tax payer wasn’t going to be taken for a ride on my account.

Some restaurants when seating a single diner will put them in what they consider to be shame corner. Behind a pillar, or by the entrance to the loos. Not Roscoffs. They seated me centre space facing into the room so that I had a fine view of the audience.

I still have the menu from that evening and I remember everything I ate because I valued each mouthful. I had no distractions, no companion to talk to. I had no book with me, no phone (this was well before the era of mobile phones). No security blanket, on purpose. Just my food and I.  Was I self conscious? Oh yes but I was determined not to show it.

The face of my boss when I handed in my expenses was a picture. It was lunchtime; he had a canteen egg sandwich in one hand, and my Roscoff bill in the other. The room was silent as he read out what I ate and I swear his sandwich wilted. It wasn’t done to eat out alone.

Some of my favourite meals have been eaten solo on holiday. It’s part of an adventure, exploring a new city. New flavours, scents, tastes. I can spend hours finding the places I want to eat, which drives some of my friends mad. The disadvantage is not having anyone to share the immediate experience with.

Every day dining and pubs seem to have different rules. Lunch is acceptable alone, dinner isn’t.

Eating alone in a greasy spoon or every day sort of place is allowed.

For women eating or drinking alone in a pub is ok, depending upon the establishment. Upping the quality of food made it far easier to enter a pub. There are very few places where I’d now feel uncomfortable eating.

 

I have several times challenged myself to sit alone at a bar. It wasn’t comfortable. Men seem to be able to do it, no problem, staring into space with a pint in one hand.

Eating at the bar however is something I love.  From tapas bars in Spanish markets to shellfish bars in London I can perch on a bar stool, watch my food being prepared, watch the room, talk to the bar staff and observe the world go by.

So, here’s the rules.

Don’t apologise and don’t use the word ‘only’ as in, it’s only me. A table for one please, head up assertively. If you can, book in advance.

Dress appropriately to blend in. Unless you’re a masochist and want to stand out.

Don’t be fobbed off with a table in Siberia. You deserve the best

Take a comfort blanket with you if you wish; book, newspaper, notebook, mobile appliance if you must, but don’t use it. Keep it in reserve; you know it’s there if you need it, but you don’t., really you don’t.  Use your camera or phone if you have to.

Don’t check your work emails. This is your space, your precious time. It’s not a working lunch, and that’s an anathema anyway. Work and food don’t mix well.

Enjoy your surroundings. Relax. There’s nothing sad or bad about you eating alone. No-one is looking at you. Ok, they might be, but they’re envying you your independence and audacity.

Order whatever you like. Nobody is going to criticise your choices or steal food from your plate. It’s all yours.

You can pretend to be a food critic and scrutinise everything on the menu, ask awkward questions about provenance or cooking methods.

You could if you choose order everything on the menu.  

Here’s the one disadvantage to eating alone. Food that’s great for sharing; dim sum, tapas is sad eaten alone because if you want to experience the entire pick and mix flavours, you’d have to over order. But feel free, indulge. You can always take the remains away with you.

The last time I over ordered at a Lebanese place and left half my food, a woman waiting for a take away order asked if she could have my leftovers.

Enjoy your food; develop a positive relationship with it. You’re eating for one. You.

Smile but don’t over do it. People will expect you to talk to yourself or the plant on your table.

Be nice to the waiter but he or she is not your best friend. Just because you’re alone, you don’t need a security blanket (did I say that?).

Eat slowly, tip well and leave with your head up. Don’t slink out. You’re not a thief.

Repeat at regular intervals. And do not ever apologise or feel guilty about eating alone.

This week I’m off to Istanbul. Will I eat my words?

Cheryl Cohen May-Oct 2011