Table for One, Please.
And conversations with strangers.
I am single and live alone in my one-bedroom apartment, and sometimes I don’t feel like cooking or I just want to leave the apartment for a bit. Sometimes I feel like being engrossed in a book while waiting for my food, sometimes I enjoy people-watching, or sometimes, when presented the opportunity, I’ll watch the kitchen’s dance at the chef’s table. Not every time, but on occasion, conversation naturally happens between me and the person(s) sitting next to me. The flow of conversation would sometimes have outsiders believe we arrived together rather than separately.
Here are some memorable conversations I’ve had with strangers this year over the course of a meal.
February 9 - Watching the Superbowl at Parlor Sports in Somerville, Massachusetts
I wanted to watch the Superbowl to cheer on the Philadelphia Eagles, so I went to my favorite sports bar, which also serves stellar bar food, to watch the game. There was one seat left at the counter, so I sat between a couple and a group of friends. Based on their familiar interactions with the staff, I quickly recognized that the couple were regulars. I ordered an IPA and the Sunday special, Ceasar salad nachos. The couple next to me commented that I had made a great choice and that they would be ordering one later. Their comment was an opening to small talk conversation. The couple introduced themselves as Josh and Ryan. Between cheering on the Eagles and Ryan ringing the bell on the wall each time the Eagles scored, we chatted about where we had moved from and what had brought us to Boston. By the end of our evening together, Josh and Ryan included me in the round of tequila shots with the staff and made me feel like I, too, was a regular. Even though the Eagles won the Superbowl, I left Parlor Sports feeling like I was the biggest winner that night.
March 30 - Dinner at La Rôtisserie d’Argent in Paris, France
I arrived promptly for my 8 p.m. dinner reservation at La Rôtisserie d’Argent, and the hostess seated me at a table next to two friends (both Australian blokes). It was their last evening in Paris before they returned to London the next day. Due to a combination of jet lag and wine consumption, I don’t remember exactly how I became a part of their conversation. They hoped, however, that they weren’t taking me away from enjoying my dinner. They weren’t. Here are the snippets of conversation that I do remember from that evening. The Australian blokes were very eager about their whole Challans duck that would be served to them in two courses. I was warned that a night out in London would easily cost a person at least 150 pounds. On multiple occasions during the interaction, I threw my head back laughing, and I smiled until it hurt. We left the restaurant together shortly after 11 p.m., probably to the delight of the servers. As I crossed the Seine heading north toward the métro stop Pont Marie, I felt as though I was wrapped in a blanket of giddiness. Everyone had enjoyed the moment, and we continued on with our lives as we went our separate ways.
May 9 - Progressive Dinner Party hosted by Pizza Le Beth in Boston, Massachusetts
Pizza Le Beth, created by husband-and-wife duo Peter and Elizabeth, host a monthly progressive dinner party for strangers at their apartment in Boston’s North End. Everyone meets at Sidecar for introductions and to enjoy a spritz-like aperitivo. Out of our group of eight, there were three pairs that arrived together and me and a guy who came solo. Although the group started off shy, I prefer to help lead conversations rather than stare awkwardly at each other. After the aperitivo, we walked the short distance to Peter and Elizabeth’s apartment, where we were served four courses of pizza with wine pairings. Although the conversation was surface level, I was persuaded by one attendee that I should ride the swan boats in Boston’s Public Gardens often. She argued that it’s the perfect escape for seven peaceful minutes. After four very delicious pizzas, we ended the evening at Boston Bottle for the Italian digestif Amaro and a strawberry rhubarb cake. As I sipped my Amaro, I discussed the cultural differences between Indianapolis and Boston and America and Europe. I also chatted with Elizabeth to learn how Pizza Le Beth came about. As transplants from Minnesota, they created it as a way to meet new people. I, too, saw Pizza Le Beth as a way to meet new people as a transplant from Indiana.
I formed new connections through Peter and Elizabeth’s progressive dinner party. Two weeks later, I returned to Boston Bottle for its Friday night wine tasting. Immediately upon stepping through the doors, Peter and Elizabeth recognized me and greeted me with hugs. At that moment, I felt a sense of community in the North End that I had been longing to find since moving to Boston.
May 11 - Lunchtime at J’s Oysters in Portland, Maine
As the restaurant’s name suggests, I went to J’s Oysters for oysters (and a lobster roll). The guests at J’s Oysters were mostly middle-aged locals who return for the delicious, fresh seafood. After finding a seat at the bar, I asked the bartender about the local beers on tap. He informed me the Belgian ale from Allagash is a popular choice, so I choose it. The woman sitting to my right asked what beer was recommended to me, I told her the Allagash, and she confirmed it’s a good beer (and indeed it was). She introduced herself as Ivy and asked where I was visiting from. From that moment on, we chatted throughout our meal as if we had come together. Ivy had ordered the steamed clams and wanted to know if I would like to try one. I’m not one to deny myself a local culinary experience, so I said, “Of course!” Ivy showed me how to pull the clam out of its shell, dunk it in the small bowl of hot water to get any remaining sand off, and dip it into the small bowl of melted butter. Then, you pop it into your mouth to enjoy. She mentioned how some people don’t like the clam’s neck, but she does, and I found it to be the sweetest part of the clam. Ivy shared her knowledge on the best places in Portland to order seafood both at a restaurant and to take home to cook. J’s Oysters was delicious, but Ivy made it memorable with her friendly conversation.
June 13 - Boston Bottle in Boston
Every Friday evening from 5 to 8 p.m. Boston Bottle hosts a wine tasting. I learned about this weekly wine tasting from Pizza Le Beth’s Progressive Dinner and began stopping by Boston Bottle after work on Fridays. Though technically not a meal at a restaurant, this is still a food and beverage activity that I attend solo.
The last two weeks, I have made small talk about the wines with a young woman named Katie, who is accompanied by her adorable puppy Daisy. I wasn’t sure if Katie had remembered me from the previous week, but she did and she come up to me to say hello and to chat. When we parted ways after the tasting, she called to me to say, “See you next week!” This moment gave me the warm fuzzies on the inside knowing this could potentially lead to a friendship that started “in the wild.”
For nearly a decade, I have asked for a table for one. It began in my early twenties when I was living in France. If I wasn’t meeting up with friends on the weekend, I was traveling solo to another region in France. I wish I could remember how I felt in the early days of dining alone. Was I anxious about people’s perceptions of me? Maybe. But, at that time, I was more focused on speaking perfectly to my server in French. I wanted the respect of speaking to him in French as an American; appearing to be lonely was not one of my concerns. Plus, in France, there’s less stigma if someone dines alone. In French culture, it would be viewed as you wanting to enjoy your meal for your own pleasure. Because I began solo dining experiences in France, I didn’t feel anxious or stigmatized when I dined out in the United States.
When I dine alone at a restaurant, I don’t feel like I am doing anything extraordinary. I am hungry. I don’t want to cook. I am willing to pay for that service at a restaurant. These are the same circumstances under which most people go to a restaurant. However, parts of society still perceive that something is wrong with solo dining. When I dine alone, I can be stigmatized as someone who is lonely, or lacking in friendships or romantic interests. These assumptions are outdated and lack creativity.
Guessing I am someone who savors researching restaurants in order to have a culinary experience is more creative. Another creative guess could be that not everyone has as expansive a palate or budget for food as I do. I am not someone who would deny myself this pleasure if I cannot find someone else to accompany me.
I know how to care for myself, and sometimes that includes asking for a table for one.
Plus, when there’s only one seat left at the bar on a busy Friday or Saturday night, guess who is able to snag it. That’s right, me!