For an (excuse the pun) unseasoned solo diner, eating alone can be a daunting experience. My first experiences solo dining understandably coincided with when I also began travelling alone. I remember vividly, booking a long weekend at the Conservatorium in Amsterdam (one of my favourite places) and reaching a state of mindless panic upon realising that unless I wanted to confine myself to room service, I would have to, for the first time, dine out alone. I’m a pragmatist, and so to prepare myself I decided to do a “dry run” at Blanchette, a laid back restaurant in Shoreditch. It was very much like going on a normal date I suppose, except nothing like being on a normal date whatsoever: I arrived at 8pm-ish and for the first time ever (awkwardly) asked for a “table for one”. Kindly, or perhaps pityingly, they put me in a quiet corner of the restaurant where my abject loneliness and misery wouldn’t affect other diners, and their irritating laughter and vacuous conversations wouldn’t affect me. There was something pleasing however, about not having to wait patiently for a partner to decide what dishes they want, not having to divide the third croquette, not having to seek validation when choosing the wine. Solo dining is (for want of a more romantic phrase) such a gloriously efficient way of eating; a selfish oasis where everything can move at precisely your own pace.
My starters arrived. This restaurant has a “sharing concept” meaning lots of small plates, and in my particularly fortunate case, no sharing at all. Excellent. But what to do when you have no one to talk to? For the first few moments I ate in silence, feeling self-conscious and foolish, but then relaxed into my meal (with help of wine), and consulted my phone for company. I would recommend any solo diner bring “something to do” – be that a notebook, newspaper, iPad etc. As a first experience it was all that I hoped it to be- informal, intimate, immersive, indulgent. Little did I know that that would be the start of a culinary journey, that would lead me to experiencing some truly memorable tables for one around the world. I would love to share with you my recommendations for solo dining spots in London. I have decided for now to only list restaurants where you can dine at the bar as I often find countertop dining to be the most laid back and comfortable way to enjoy a solo meal, especially if this type of dining experience is one that is new to you. My recommendations are:
Barbary – No reservations here, and the wait can be horrendous, so best arrive for a late lunch or early dinner and you may be in luck. Impossibly delicious (and I mean seriously moreish) North African plates, an absolute gem of a restaurant that’s big on flavour and small on pretence. Last year, this was my favourite place to eat. Diners sit exclusively on a bar that surrounds the open kitchen, where steaming piles of deliciously spiced food are tipped straight from the pan to your plate
Bocca di Lupo – My favourite Italian in London. Take a seat at the bar and prepare to be entertained by the drama of the tiny, but explosive open kitchen. This is another small plates restaurant with a host of ever changing (menu often changes twice daily) Italian and Sardinian dishes. They make everything from their sausages to their gelato in house, and it’s a great spot for a solo lunch
Cecconis – You can’t reserve a seat at the bar (ideal for solo dining) so feel free to walk in and usually the wait isn’t long. A restaurant of subtle sophistication, (old school in the right way, without being stuffy) enjoy delicious and luxurious classic Italian plates paired with people watching and an Aperol spritz.
Merchants Tavern – Do not be put off by the ambiguous phrase “Modern European Cuisine”, or by the fact that the restaurant never seems to be busy. Sit at the bar, and watch the talented brigade of chefs (who are also friendly and very knowledgeable about the produce) shuck oysters, stretch out impossibly long sheets of pasta, and prepare a simple, yet perfectly balanced menu of “European” dishes.
Sabor – From the people who gave us Barrafina, this Spanish restaurant tucked behind Regent St is part of the new school of understated “casual dining” Michelin Restaurants. Get a seat downstairs if you can (walk in only) and prepare to be amazed as some of the best tapas in London arrives at your table. The menu changes daily, the wine list is excellent, and the atmosphere is that of a restaurant that is (justifiably) confident, yet not trying to hard.
What, I hear you ask, became of the solo Amsterdam trip?
Well… it ended up being an absolute disaster. A missed flight (my own fault, and rescheduling meant I lost half a day), horrendous weather, bad restaurant choices, and a queue the size of Boris Johnsons ego at the Van Gough museum (first world problems, I know) all conspired to make my visit mediocre at best. But many moons later, I can still be thankful for that trip having introduced me to the joys of solo dining.
Here’s to many more!*
(*note to reader, do not attempt raising a toast when dining alone).
Sabrina Goodlife.