The somewhat messy concept of food dates

The somewhat messy concept of food dates

As a concept, social drinking is a brilliant one. I can see why it’s become so popular, especially for students or first-daters. “Do you want to go for a drink?” Yes, that is a genius idea, thank you. As the drink flows so does the conversation.

This doesn’t even need to be an alcoholic drink either; water helps you to stay hydrated in a nervous situation and allows you to talk for longer (not that I need encouragement on that front), coffee helps to stimulate your memory, hot chocolate gives you an energy boost and alcohol helps you to relax. Whichever way you look at it, a beverage only adds further depth/confidence/seductive slur to the conversation.

Drinks get a big thumbs up from The Spadge (like mother like daughter, eh) (soz Mum) (I’m really hoping that nickname catches on).

However, “do you want to go for something to eat?” is a sentence that fills me with much less enthusiasm (despite really, really loving food.) This ‘food date’ situation is a concept that must have been created maliciously by the inventor of the napkin. Seriously. How did this develop as a regular social norm? You end up talking with your mouth full, trying to chew quietly so that you can hear what your friends are actually saying, and don’t even attempt to cram a fork full of rocket salad into your face without getting salad dressing in your eyebrows.

Thumbs down on the ‘food dates’ idea. Unless it’s chocolate. In which case I’m happy to ‘accidentally’ wear it as a face mask.

When I recently went for an afternoon bite with a friend that I hadn’t seen in about three years, I’m sure he won’t mind me saying; there were numerous moments where we subtly had to wipe each other’s mid-chewed food off our clothes. We totally laughed about it (laughing was what really caused the issue in the first place) and blamed the unusually low table for not shielding us better, but we soon discovered that salad is a terrible idea when you have three years worth of funny stories to share. Food in general, actually. The chocolate pastry dessert was just as disastrous.

This wasn’t even a place with added pressure to use the right cutlery or to remain seated for the duration of five courses, but when you’re sat opposite somebody and trying to time mouthfuls of delicious food with spaces in the conversation, that you’re expected to fill, I can’t help but wonder whose idea this was. Every time. Why don’t we eat in the dark, alone, for every meal?

I hardly ever go out for three-course meals (mainly due to the combination of a tiny stomach and any high-levels of fanciness existing only in my head), but the week before last I happened to have two social appointments that required attending two foodie events in the same week. On both occasions I found myself struggling to eat at a pace that matched others around the table, I found many of the ingredients an unusual combination and, no matter how much lipstick sealant I used, I ended up with an embarrassing ‘Kat Slater lip-liner’ look after the first course.

Even when the food is great, I feel like there’s a spotlight on you to finish your plate, while keeping up with witty conversation and to not look like this at any point during. Lady-like, eh.

Seriously, when it comes to eating socially, I propose that everybody should be sat staring at the same wall, preferably with some Netflix on it, and eating with their hands. This should be one course, preferably pizza. Or chocolate. Did I mention chocolate?

Who’s with me?

*throws salad fork out of the window in protest*

*cat screeches outside*