For some reason, there’s still a big stigma attached to eating alone in a restaurant. Last night, I shattered its hold on me.
Don’t misquote me though, I love going for a good hearty meal and a chinwag with my friends. However, in the last two weeks I’ve done it more times than I can recall, and sometimes it’s nice to get some time to yourself and watch the world while you get pampered.
Or you at least get a nice feed into you.
I had a ten hour shift in work yesterday (which is starting to become common these days) and through the entire day, all I could think of was spaghetti. Italian is my all time favourite type of food, and I had what I can only describe as a pregnancy style craving for bolognese. I was also caught for time with a mountain of things to do in the evening. A waft of garlic bread hitting me as I waited for the bus home pretty much set the evening for me- I was getting food, and I was getting it now.
My family and I had been to Il Corvo in Drumcondra on Dublin’s north side before my graduation back in November. I knew this was the spot I needed to head for. I wasn’t disappointed. I had a fabulous dining experience (which, paired with a glass of the white stuff, came in under €30. Bargain.) which disappeared in seconds it tasted so good and, best of all, I got a break from what has been the busiest week of my life. Between my food coming I picked up the book I’m currently reading- Not That Kind of Girl by Lena Dunham (which some may think rude, but I was sitting alone in a restaurant, it wasn’t hurting people), sat back, sipped on my wine and just let go.
My cravings satisfied, I collapsed into bed last night and for the first time in a long time, I didn’t wake until my alarm for work went off. I was full, and I was content.