Somehow I have never minded dining alone. Instead, I find it is a rare opportunity for relaxing and collecting my senses, and I have always made each occasion something of a ceremony.
~ James Beard
It has been a while since I sat at a table for one in an upscale restaurant. A few days ago, in Tucson, I had dinner at the bar at Vivace and at Fleming’s. But a bar stool in a cozy, intimate bar is a whole other experience from a table for one in a roomful of couples and families.
Who is looking at me? What are they thinking? What shall I do with my hands? My feet? How should I compose my face? Where should I point my eyes?
First and foremost, no one is looking at you. No one cares what you’re doing with your hands or feet or face or eyes. No one cares if you’re alone or with a friend or with ten other people.
Or with a dog.
A woman in Memphis said it best on my 2019 road trip. She walked by my table ahead of her male companion and glanced at Annie lying on her mat under the table. She gave me a conspiratorial smile. “The perfect dining companion,” she drawled. Her companion gave me a woeful smile as he followed her out the door.
Granted, I would prefer to have someone to share dinner with. But I’ve usually traveled alone, and dining alone is part of that. And it can be quite nice. Last night I sat by myself at Coasterra, a Mexican restaurant at the east end Harbor Island.
Who needs a companion when you can gaze at a view like this?
Who needs a companion when you have a Margarita to sip (and critique — I make a better one, thanks to R’s tutelage).
Who needs a companion when you can deconstruct the ceviche and pick at the small pieces of fish floating in the broth (Broth? There should not be broth).
Who needs a companion when . . . well, you get the idea.
So far, this “innovative and modern” Mexican restaurant, as it billed itself, was making me wish for down-home Tex-Mex, or as it were, Cali-Mex.
Then came the main course, Carne Asada — charco-grilled flank steak with avocado salsa, bean fondue, and Mexican rice.
It had me at the presentation.
The steal was arranged in small slices in a neat, overlapping row and drizzled with the avocado salsa. It sat atop the bean fondue (essentially, creamy refried beans) with a generous helping of Mexican rice. (I forgot to take a photo before I dug into it.)
It tasted even better than it looked. Everything about it was perfect, in fact, from the medium rareness of the steak to the generous drizzle of avocado salsa to the creaminess of the beans – even the Mexican rice was good
I ate the whole thing except for two small pieces of steak which I took back to Annie. good doggie mom that I am.
As I drove into the hotel parking lot after dinner, this sunset presented me with the perfect ending to a satisfying meal at a table for one:
