Party of One

Dining alone is a skill. Something I believe needs to be practiced. Like eating bucatini without the help of a spoon. Or not getting sugo on your hand wash only chiffon top, the latter I have yet to master.

I remember doing this for the first time when I was in college, about eight years ago. This was before the obsession with social media and the universal support of doing anything solo. So, you can imagine the tool I was dating at the time responding with the oh so original, “Why? That’s so weird.” Which I sometimes still get to this day.

It’s not for everyone whether it is due to lack of opportunity or simply interest. Personally, I prefer it. (Not having to worry about being delicate while eating linguini, because who wants to stress when you should thoroughly enjoy it, mess and all.) Especially in [Southern] Italy. A country as we all know breaths a culture built on the celebration of food. The appreciation of an oil drizzled tomato grown steps away. A perfectly cooked plate of carbonara. A chance to have a moment to yourself and enjoy a recipe with centuries of history.

On a summer afternoon in Rome, past the crowds hidden away behind a maze of alleyway turns you can find the perfect tavolino, even just for one. Under an umbrella with a chilled glass of white, you are free the gaze upon the terracotta character that makes up the eternal city.

At this moment you have to put down the phone, remove the air pods and truly embrace the experience- the liberating feeling of taking yourself out for an exquisite meal. I often find myself in these situations thinking, “I can’t believe I get to do this.”  x