Dining out solo: why everyone should try it
My top tips on how to do it and actually enjoy it
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I don’t go to restaurants that much
Contrary to popular belief, what with my role as a critic on BBC1’s MasterChef, I don’t actually visit restaurants in the UK that much.
Excluding the quick and casual bites to eat, I’ll head to a restaurant about once a month, maybe twice. It’s the way me and my friends catch-up, over a languorous meal with a glass of good wine and no one turning our table.
The how-have-we-been-here-for-four-hours kind of dinner. I love those.
This frequency is turned on its head when I’m abroad, however. Which I quite often am.
Despite almost always opting for an apartment equipped with a kitchen (I rarely stay in hotels unless for work), it’s when I’m beyond the border that I really flex my dining out muscles. Most of us probably do.
But whilst many settle on a holiday destination based on history, attractions, beaches, photo opps or activities, my main motivation for travelling is to eat; the destinations I choose to visit are based on the likelihood of a very good dinner.
My daily itinerary will loosely involve meandering from one eatery to the next. And if I happen to walk past something interesting in between, it’s a bonus but rarely the main focus.
Eating out is one of my favourite things to do while travelling; I reckon the best way to really get under the skin of a destination is through its food.
I like to call this kind of traveling gastro travel.
Let’s take Tokyo as an example
It’s one of my favourite cities to eat out in.
I can’t imagine there is any one single resource that lists all the places to get food in Tokyo.
If there was, it would break the internet. And if it didn’t break the internet, it would break the human resolve, because reading it would be like counting the population of the world in that you would never reach the end.
Tokyo’s topography is like a psychedelic 3D game of Tetris. It’s a city made from a bazillion building blocks. It rises up and out, as well as below (there are vast subterranean worlds running beneath and between stations) to create a mind-bending and multi-layered mega metropolis.
Every door, every window, every neon sign, every alleyway, every floor in every single building, the top and bottom (and middle) of every flight of stairs, every unassuming flicker of light, every gap between two planks of wood – seems to be yet another dining establishment, ready to serve.
They range from standing only holes-in-the-wall — thresholds marked by a simple curtain with a floor space able to accommodate no more than five pairs of feet (and let’s hope they’re small feet) — to yawning cafés for long lunches.
A lifetime might provide enough meals to eat your way through a single Tokyo street.
Perhaps it is partly because of this astonishing dining establishment density – and hence the tiny footprints of so many of them – that eating out on your own is commonplace in Japan.
It’s not really practical to turn up six people strong, when the place you've chosen for dinner has a maximum capacity of only a handful and it’s already half full.
The reasons why dining out solo is so great
Because I quite often travel on my own, be that for work or personal sojourns, I naturally tend to eat out on my own too. It is honestly one of my favourite things to do, but especially when I’m somewhere new.
I’ve even discovered what I am confidently calling Lisbon’s finest solo dining spot, the magic in the main image. Couples often ask the waiters in this restaurant if they can have that pretty table by the window with the flower box.
But the answer is always a firm no, it’s reserved for single diners only.
I visit this restaurant for this specific table whenever I am in Lisbon. The waiters know me now and also know that I no longer need to look at the menu. I feel like I’m on a date with myself. I feel like I’m treating myself. Plus the food is always superb.
Going for dinner alone gives me a real sense of confidence and independence. It makes me feel grown-up, like an actual adult, comfortable enough in my own skin to have few qualms about enjoying a three course meal with no one else at my table.
It almost feels stylish. Dare I say, it feels chic.
I find dining solo empowering and liberating
I have the freedom to eat where I want and order what I fancy, which is wonderful in itself.
And I find eating alone allows for more focussed attention on the actual food, since I’m not distracted by conversation, or realising too late that my plate has gone cold because I’ve barely stopped talking. I eat more mindfully.
In the same way as time alone in the bath or stretching out with some vinyasa is a form of self-care, I find taking myself out to dinner to be a similar (but tastier) alternative. An opportunity for peaceful and uninterrupted space to enjoy my own company and thoughts.
It gives me time to reflect and to take a break from the demands of social interaction, which let’s face it, can often be exhausting. As an (outgoing) introvert, I often leave an unaccompanied restaurant visit feeling rejuvenated. And pretty much always thinking, I need to do this more often.
It’s also such a great exercise for those interested in exploring the space beyond our comfort zones, aka where personal growth lies.
I occasionally clock other people noticing me
This girl, having a night out on the town with herself. I can tell when they are thinking, ‘She looks like she is having a ball, I want to try that.’
But this isn’t always what they are thinking. Interestingly, seeing someone dining on their own can make some people feel uncomfortable.
I remember a time in Florida when I was in a restaurant next to a rambunctious table of friends and family. One guy kept glancing over his shoulder at me until he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
‘Are you OK, eating on your own?’, he blurted out. ‘Would you like to join us?’
The younger party members shrank into their chairs with embarrassment at what this guy had asked. It was a sweet gesture really, but it took me by surprise. Perhaps he thought I’d been stood up.
‘Oh no,’ I said. ‘I’m fine. Thank you though!’
How to dine out solo if you’ve never tried it before
I’ve already written about my love for solo travel, including why and how I do it.
Many people can relate to the freedom of meandering through city streets on a one person trip, with little more for company than a book and your own agenda. There’s a romance to it.
But I think where some struggle is the thought of having to dine out on your own, too. Especially in the evenings.
Because of the seemingly innate ability of the Japanese to comfortably slurp noodles solo, Japan is the ideal environment to try going it alone at dinner, without feeling weird about it. I’d go as far as to say you might actually blend in more when dining in the absence of others in Tokyo.
But of course, Tokyo isn’t accessible to everyone.
And so for those interested in experiencing the benefits of a table for one, in their own home town or whilst on their travels, here are my top tips for how to dine out solo — in the evening — and actually enjoy it.