Don’t dine alone—take an iPad to dinner

Suzanne Le Page Langlois

As a businesswoman I dine alone in restaurants much of the time—by choice—and have done so for many years. Most people don’t, and most women in particular don’t like doing it. I enjoy the solitude, the chance to experience the meal and ambience without the distraction of a companion. Plus I love to read while I eat. However I understand that many people are uncomfortable when they enter a restaurant alone, and sit by themselves in anguish until they can finally depart. Until recently there was a stigma attached to dining alone, with the automatic assumption that the solo diner cannot find anyone with whom to share a meal.

Solo diners are often subjected to poor service from wait staff. When I phone to book, it is automatically assumed that I am the female secretary, and the booking is made in the name of ‘Mr So-and-so’. There is usually surprise when I arrive. I am then led to an inconvenient, dimly lit table close to the kitchen or bathrooms (or both). Even when I have booked a table for one, it is inevitably laid for two, and I am then pointedly asked if there will be anyone joining me. I have stopped replying ‘Only if I strike it lucky!’ Is it any wonder that business travellers tend to order room service?

Even if there was enough light to read at this secluded table, I would need to prop my book open with condiments and cutlery. Fortunately, this is no longer a problem now that I have an iPad, as the screen is always readable no matter the level of light. It also takes up no more room than the bread plate.

When I was first getting used to dining alone, I had three different personas. You need to practice one or more of these (preferably at home, and on someone you trust, like your mum or your sister) before launching yourself on the culinary public. Then try it when you are in a town or city far away from home. It won’t matter if you make a complete fool of yourself, because nobody knows you anyway.

All of these techniques have been tried by my friends, and all work.

1. Food critic

This requires you to make a booking earlier in the day, and arrive at the appointed time. Look around the restaurant while you are waiting to be shown to your table, as though assessing the décor. As a single diner, you will be seated at a table near the kitchen or bathrooms. Take out your notebook, pen and small digital camera, and place them on the table. Take a book from your handbag, and make it obvious that you are finding it difficult to read in the poor light.

When the menu arrives, emphasise the fact that you are having difficulty reading it. In a really good restaurant you will be immediately moved to a different table—joke! Read the menu slowly, and do not be distracted by the waiter arriving several times to check if you are ready to order. The answer is ‘no’. However, ask for a glass of wine—this really annoys them, as it means a separate trip to the table to take your food order. Start writing in your notebook. Copy the dishes you are planning to order, and the price. Also, write down the wine you requested.

Wait! You are already low priority, as a single diner. You have also shown that you are painfully slow and indecisive, and are likely to hold up the flow of the restaurant. Remember, the aim of a restaurant is to feed as many customers as possible, as quickly as possible, and get them out the door so that the staff can clean down and be dismissed, and off the payroll.

Now, order your meal next time the waiter comes to the table. Then look around at the décor, turn the bread plate over to check the manufacturer, write a few notes in your little book. When your first course arrives, don’t pick up your cutlery until the waiter has departed. Then use your camera (make sure it is set on macro, no flash) and surreptitiously take a photo of the dish. Look at the result, and if you wish, rotate the plate about thirty degrees and take another. Have a few mouthfuls, then jot some notes in your book. In that hypothetical good restaurant, one of the waiters will have noticed. If not, do the same when your main arrives—photo, notes jotted in your book.

If the staff have twigged that you might be a food critic (they are much more attuned now that cooking programs are so popular on TV), the head waiter or even the manager may appear at your table to check that ‘everything is alright—to your satisfaction?’ The answer should always be: ‘It has been very interesting!’ Never, ever tell them it has been nice, delicious or any of the other words they are seeking.

When you have finished your main, and they offer the dessert menu, tell them you would love to read it. Jot a few more comments in your notebook, then tell them you don’t usually eat dessert. They now know you are a food critic.

If you can, leave them guessing by paying either with cash, or if it is a work trip, with a business credit card that does not have your name on it. They still won’t know who you are, but you can come back another night and get guaranteed better service and a better table.

2. The businesswoman

Next to the food critic, this is my favourite. Stay in your work clothes (a power dressing suit, not jeans and a t-shirt). Arrive five minutes late, and obviously in a rush. Sit down at the appointed table, open your iPad immediately to your new novel, and appear distracted when the waiter brings the menu. Ask immediately for a glass of ‘New Zealand sav blanc’ while you look at the menu. Then put the menu down while you read at least five pages of your book, preferably with a frown on your face. Look up when the glass of wine appears, but do not take a sip—important business people cannot be diverted from the issue at hand!

The scene is set—they know who you are, and that you must be on an expense account. From now on, you can do whatever you want. If the ‘crisis’ is resolved, relax and enjoy your meal. Occasionally check your so-called emails by fiddling with the buttons of your iPad, and jotting notes in your book, but the rest of the time enjoy the restaurant and its food. I hate to remind you, but this is the recognition that businessmen have accepted as the norm for decades.

3. The celebrity—‘incognito’

This is a challenge. If you are staying at a very posh hotel, book into their best restaurant. Wear a beautiful evening gown, do your hair and makeup, and swan down for a superb meal. I can still recall the attention of the waiters, and sometimes even the chefs, when they discovered through my conversation with the wait-staff that I was just an ordinary person having a great night out. Imagine the reaction of the other diners when a chef in whites appears at my table. Once another diner came over because she thought I was Julie Anthony (admittedly she was a very old lady, and I do have dark hair, but I was flattered anyway. I didn’t want to disappoint her—she probably still thinks she met the singing star).

4. Be yourself

One of the most exciting stages of life is when you realise that you can’t be whatever everyone else (particularly your mother) wanted you to be, and you are happy just being yourself. This is the time when you can get on with your life, spend the kids’ inheritance, and dine whenever and wherever you want. Now that I am comfortable in my skin, I book at fantastic restaurants, wear something comfortable, take my iPad to dinner and enjoy the company of the wait staff (and sometimes the chefs if they are bored or not too busy. I even get kitchen tours).

I don’t want to tell you what to do. I certainly don’t want you to do anything you don’t feel comfortable doing. But if you want to explore the culinary horizons, try these techniques. Have fun!