Alyssa's Thoughts on Dining Alone

Counter-seating at our favorite tonkatsu restaurant, Tonki.  It's actually much easier to get a seat for one person with this kind of arrangement.

I have a tradition of taking myself out to lunch for my birthday.  The first year I did this, I sat at the bar at one of my favorite San Francisco restaurants.  I ordered a glass of wine and crab cellophane noodles from Slanted Door in the Ferry Building.  It was absolutely delightful.  I reflected on the previous year, thought about the year to come, and thoroughly enjoyed my own company ;).  Thus began my love affair with dining alone.

The opportunities to eat out alone were fairly rare in San Francisco.  I usually ate lunch at my desk during the day, and almost always had dinner with Franklin or a friend.  Dining alone was a treat.   It was something reserved for Saturday spa or shopping days, or maybe a trip to the farmer’s market when I could sneak away from my desk.  It was almost a guilty pleasure, and I always felt relaxed and rejuvenated afterward.

Unfortunately, not everyone seems to understand this in the States.  I would get curious looks from other diners, and see pity in the hostess’s eyes when I held up that index finger to indicated “table for one.”  I wanted to make a proclamation to the restaurant: “I am fine. I have friends and family and people who love me! Please do not pity me.  In fact, you should try dining alone once in a while!”  And I know I’m not the only person who feels this way, so it’s not just my absurd self-consciousness kicking in.

Now that we’re in Tokyo, I work from home and have a very flexible schedule.  My lunches are wide open.  I usually eat at home because I like to cook and it’s cheaper, but I try to get out for lunch a few times a week.  And I still love it, even though it’s not quite as much of an indulgent treat any more.  I can order whatever I want.  I can take my time or hurry through the meal.  I can order a beer or a glass of wine if I so desire (which happens almost never, unfortunately! Otherwise I would just doze through the entire afternoon…).  I can daydream, brainstorm or plan.  I don’t have to make conversation just because I’m sitting across from someone.

But most importantly, no one judges me here.  Dining alone is very common in Tokyo.  People work incredibly demanding hours and they are consumed by their jobs.  Sixty, eighty, even one-hundred-hour workweeks are not uncommon.  This makes it very difficult to maintain a social life and meet people or date (but we’ll save that treatise for another day).  Add the fact that many of the people who are married don’t make it home in time for dinner, and you end up with a lot of people dining alone.  This is a bit sad as a concept, but it’s a fact of life here that doesn’t seem to bother people.  It also means that there’s no stigma attached to eating by one’s self.  No one stares at you with that mixture of curiosity and pity.  In fact, many types of restaurants are better equipped to handle single diners and have to scramble to accommodate parties of two or more (such as restaurants with primarily counter seating, shown in the picture above).

Dining alone can be incredibly liberating if you have the right attitude toward it.  I wholeheartedly recommend that you give it a try.  Enjoy your own company and gather your thoughts.  Make a list of what you want to accomplish that day, that week, or that year.  Reflect on your day.  Maybe have a glass of wine.  What the hell, get dessert.  Take yourself out on a date.  I think you’ll find that you’re a pretty great dining companion.  And maybe next time you see someone eating alone you’ll smile at them with a bit of envy, rather than look at them with pity.