in praise of eating alone
Eating alone, there’s no obligation to make appreciative noises or come up with generic comments about the food. Instead, you think obsessively detailed compliments about the kind of bread or the commendable thickness of the cream cheese or how the colors complement each other.
Eating alone, there’s no obligation to look up or pace yourself with the other person. Instead, you look down, you balance the cheese on top of the walnut on top of the greens and get the perfect balance of each in every bite. You spread butter on the bread without a trace of self-consciousness. You put the whole piece of sushi in your mouth at once without minding the requisite pause in conversation to appreciate and chew.
Eating alone, there’s no obligation to ladylike delicacy. You don’t much mind about dripping or taking too-large bites. You eat with a sensual relish that seems almost indecent when you’re aware of an observer at close range. You eat wholeheartedly.
