the art of eating out alone

Not too long ago I was out window shopping with a friend on Polk Street.  As we passed by La Folie, she commented about how great the food was there.

"Who'd you go with?" I asked as I glanced in at their white-linen-clothed tables and cozy twosomes dining in fancy garb.
"Oh, just me."  She answered without the least bit of hesitation.

All alone?  Like without a single other person with you?  At a couple-y restaurant packed full of people watching you?
Something about my expression must have hinted at my shock.

"It's nice sometimes, you know.  Just sit and relax.  Sip your wine.  Enjoy your food.  Watch the people.  You should try it."

The thought terrified me, but for some reason, I was intrigued.  I wanted to be so confident and self-assured that I could feel comfortable eating all by lonesome anywhere, anytime.

So over the past few months, I've taking "eating out alone" on as a project.
I started off with the small stuff. 

An almond croissant at La Boulange.

And then a veggie burger lunch at Super Duper Burgers on Chestnut.

And then an afternoon coffee and snack at Jane on Fillmore.

Their cookies are

the. best. I. have. ever. had.

Bar none.

And while I had no trouble with all of the above, with each of these feats, I could easily get away with reading the paper or a good book alongside plentiful fellow solo diners.  I knew that sooner or later, I'd need to take the big jump: dinner all on my own.

So last weekend I did it. 
Table for one at the oh-so-delicious (and oh-so-romantic) Jackson Fillmore.

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It doesn't look like much (a hole-in-the-wall you could pass by without notice, menus written on mirrors and chalkboards, and a wine "cellar" made up of boxes stored high),  

but the place is delicious. 

And as frightened as I was at first, the dinner as an event was actually delightful.  I did exactly what my friend had recommended: sat and relaxed, sipped my wine, enjoyed my food, and watched the people - a positively lovely night.

xoxo

KK