Why the laws of physics don’t apply to dining out

When you’re cooking dinner at home, running late isn’t a huge issue. Just don’t tell everyone that dinner is ready and that they have to come to the table now because it isn’t and they don’t. But when you’re dining out, you’re already at the table. And if the food comes at a glacial pace, it’s like being frozen in time. Gaps between courses stretch into chasms and you find that you can actually spend less time eating than you do waiting for something to eat.

Time, as Albert Einstein deduced, is the fourth dimension. How he came up with that without being a restaurant critic held captive by the caprice of chefs, I’ll never know. The man must be a genius.

Time and space have bent and shifted around me lately. One night, I dined at a just-opened tapas bar, hoping it would transport me to the messy mayhem of the bars of Barcelona, Seville and San Sebastián. And it did, with its high noise levels, party atmosphere, trays of sangria, platters of jamon with potato crisps, and morcilla sausage with fried eggs.

Everything came fast and furious, amping up the excitement – then, suddenly, I was back out in the street, my table gone to the next person in line. It felt over way too fast.

The following night I was in an upscale hotel dining room, knee-deep in luxury. But they were as extravagant with our time as they were with their thick carpet and rich lighting. Various strategies were deployed: the couple to my right stayed on their devices throughout, while the couple to my left drank three martinis between entrée and main.

My table was self-sufficient in entertainment but, even so, it felt like a slog, making me appreciate the mantra of Melbourne restaurateur Ronnie Di Stasio anew. When he dines at restaurants other than his own, he places his order with the commandment, “No gaps!”

But here’s the thing, Mr Einstein. We humans are the fourth dimension, not time. We can bend it to our will, slowing it down or speeding it up by our very mood. Think of the dining experiences you’ve had where you were completely unaware of whether the food came fast or slow because you were living in the moment.

That’s what we, in the business, call a good time.

theemptyplate@goodweekend.com.au

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