"Table For One"
Solo dining: a form of self-care, a recipe for
loneliness or just a socially awkward experience?
It’s 6pm on a Friday night and as I walk through Cardiff city centre towards Giovanni’s, an intimate Italian restaurant and popular date-night spot, I feel nervous. Not because I’m going on a first date with a virtual stranger from a dating app, but because, for the very first time, I’m going out for dinner alone.
I’m not talking about grabbing a quick bite perched on a communal table while scrolling through Instagram but a proper, full-blown three course affair. No phone, no props, just me, myself and I...
“Sadder than the beggar is the man who eats alone in public”
Jean Baudrillard
As I open the heavy wooden door and walk into the dimly lit eatery, I am immediately struck by how busy it is. Atmospheric Italian music is playing, waiters are shouting instructions to one another and groups of people are laughing and chatting animatedly. I feel awkward.
“I’ve got a reservation for one,” I mumble to the friendly-looking restaurant manager.
“You’re all on your own?!” he exclaims. “How sad!” he says, lifting his hands to his eyes and pretending to cry.
“Ha ha. Yeah, it is…” I respond unsurely as I follow him down the winding staircase to my table.
Why do I feel so uncomfortable? I have no qualms about sitting in a coffee shop and reading a book or going for a quick lunch when I’m out and about, but the idea of having dinner alone at a proper restaurant in the evening fills me with an irrational sense of fear.
Apparently I’m not the only one who feels this way. A 2019 study revealed that more than a third of Brits find the thought of dining alone intimidating.
Research also shows that we naturally avoid engaging in pleasurable activities – like going for dinner or to the cinema – alone, especially when we might be seen by others. We assume they’ll judge us for being lonely, sad or weird.
“I’m happy to dine alone in casual places but I wouldn’t go somewhere a bit fancier on my own as I’d feel self conscious. I think people would notice and think it’s strange,” says Bristol-based food blogger Shonette Laffy.
Yet, despite our fears, it seems more and more of us are dining solo. Booking platform OpenTable found single restaurant reservations rose by a huge 160% between 2014 and 2018.
In South Korea, solo dining is so common there’s even a name for it; hon-bap, which literally translates to alone-meal (they also have hon-sul for drinking alone). Here in the UK, restaurants are increasingly catering for lone diners with communal tables, bar seating and individual booths.
And with more than 18,000 posts under the hashtag #solodining on Instagram, it seems the stigma surrounding eating out alone is dwindling.
However, as I sit down at my candle-lit table, surrounded by couples, I feel like all eyes are on me. The pair next to me, who seem to be on a first date, are looking at me with pity. They probably think I’ve been stood up, I think to myself as a waiter comes over, two menus in hand.
“Waiting for someone?” he asks.
“No, no – it’s just me tonight,” I reply. The couple next door give each other a look.
“Oh okay. Ready to order?” he says, smiling.
Would you go feel comfortable to go for dinner in a fancy restaurant on your own?
— Priyankaa Joshi (@_priyankaajoshi) April 9, 2020
Solo dining may be on the up but some argue that the trend is a worrying one. A study by Oxford Economics revealed that eating alone has a stronger link to unhappiness than any factor other than mental illness. That’s pretty shocking.
Research commissioned by The Big Lunch also found that the more often people eat with others, the more likely they are to feel happy and satisfied with their lives.
Of course, there’s a marked difference between eating alone because you have no choice and taking yourself for a solo dinner date.
Once I’ve chosen my starter - bruschetta al pomodoro - and a glass of house red, I settle back into my seat, a little bit unsure of what to do with myself. The idea of sitting at the table in silence with just my own thoughts for company is a daunting one.
As the groups around me clink glasses and talk animatedly, I feel a bit lonely. Why do all the joys that come with eating at a nice restaurant fly out the window if I don’t have someone to share them with?
Dr Jackie Black, PhD, BCC, believes our anxieties towards spending time alone arise because we think being alone and feeling lonely are one and the same. But this isn’t the case. According to Dr Black, it’s about recognising the difference and learning to take pleasure in moments of solitude.
Indeed, solo dining is increasingly seen as a form of self care, much like face masks, bath bombs and candlelit yoga sessions – a chance to press pause on the stresses of everyday life and enjoy a bit of me-time.
Experts believe there are a range of psychological benefits that come with eating out alone too.
“While eating out with partners, friends, and colleagues can offer a wonderful opportunity to collectively enjoy food and conversation, dining on our own offers a special opportunity to really pay attention to our food; to be mindful of the presentation, smells, taste, and texture of what’s on our plate,” explains Dr Joe Schwaerzler, clinical psychologist at the University of East London.
As I tuck into my bruschetta, I start to relax. I’m definitely more mindful of what’s on my plate, savouring each mouthful of food and sip of wine. And after a long, tiring day, it feels pretty good to be able to switch off and reflect instead of chattering away.
With my phone tucked away in my bag, I also feel more present in the moment. As I observe my fellow diners, listening in to snippets of their conversations over the lively music, I notice an alarming number of couples aren’t really talking to each other; in fact most are scrolling through their phones. Perhaps two isn’t always company.
Once my starter has been cleared away and I wait for my main course to arrive, I feel the self-consciousness creeping in again. I’m sure the couple next to me keep looking at me. I’m not sure what possesses me (maybe it has something to do with the wine) but I turn to them and ask, “Do you think I’m weird because I’m eating alone?”
They’re taken aback. “No, no – not at all,” the man splutters.
“I didn’t really notice you. I don’t think it’s weird though, I eat on my own sometimes,” he adds.
“I’ve never been for dinner alone but you look like you’re having a great time,” says his dining companion.
Ah. They’re not judging me after all. Why was I so worried about what they thought?
According to a study by Thomas Gilovich, professor of psychology at Cornell University, it’s down to the “spotlight effect” – a psychological phenomenon which describes the way we seriously overestimate how much others notice us.
The truth is, no one is really paying attention to you, people are too wrapped up in themselves.
Food blogger Dan Vaux-Nobes can attest to this. “In my experience no one bats an eyelid. In fact, front of house staff are more attentive – they want you to have a good time.”
When I think about it, I wouldn’t immediately assume someone is weird or lonely because they’re eating alone. In fact, I’d probably be quite impressed.
As I see my main course – a heaped plate of fettuccine arrabiata – coming towards me, I feel excited. I realise I don’t want to wolf it down and get out of here, I want to take my time and savour each and every bite.
As I twirl the fettuccine around my fork and mop up the spicy tomato sauce with chunks of warm bread, I feel like I’m having a real “treat yourself” moment. Now that I’ve stopped feeling awkward and embarrassed, I realise I’m enjoying myself.
I even mustered up the confidence to take a selfie without worrying what my fellow diners would think
I even mustered up the confidence to take a selfie without worrying what my fellow diners would think
There’s also something liberating about being able to eat at my own pace; not having to worry about splattering tomato sauce over my dining companion or coming up with sparkling conversation.
After devouring a generous portion of tiramisu, I pay the bill, thank the waiters and head out into the crisp evening air. As I walk away, I realise I’m smiling to myself. I survived my solo dining experience, in fact I enjoyed it. Aside from the obvious benefits – no discussions about what to order, no sharing and no small talk – I discovered I can enjoy my own company and that’s a pretty empowering feeling.
Sure, sharing good food with loved ones is one of life’s greatest pleasures but there is a sense of freedom in dining alone. I might not become a regular lone diner but saying “table for one” won’t bring me out in a cold sweat from now on.
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