আপনি কি একজন বিকার, ভাগকারী বা প্রস্তুতকারী? আপনার মেনু ডিজাইন শৈলী আপনার সম্পর্কে কি বলে? পলি হাডসন

It is commonly believed that all you need to know about a person can be gleaned from the way they treat waiters. Recently, however, another measure of humanity where restaurants are concerned has come to light: how dithery people are before ordering. Food & Culture magazine Vittles came to this conclusion a few weeks ago, having observed Rishi Sunak struggle to rustle up a modest meal at The Dover in Mayfair. Apparently the ex-PM began by subtly checking what other diners at the table were planning, soliciting the waiter’s opinion, then spending 10 minutes “agonising over whether the Dover sole was too big”, then asking the waiter (“answer: no”), then fruitlessly attempting to form a coalition with his companion and “sharing it”. The. Pene. Arrabbiata. Oh come on, pasta? And that a super basic variety? If Sunak were still in power, this story could be his Miliband bacon sandwich. Vittles then tried to move on with a “parlour game for nerds: which PM would only order a sole?” (I reckon Wilson, Blair and “even Callaghan”), but let’s get back to how we order.

I have a friend who, for reasons best known to her therapist, refuses to eat the same dish as anyone else at the table. We all know people who take as long dithering over their food as Rishi did, umming and ahing for so long you start to wonder why you didn’t just stay home. Many of them have… let’s call them peculiar menu decision strategies, and if you mix incompatible aspects, the results can be devastating. I have a friend who, for reasons best known to her therapist, refuses to eat the same dish as anyone else at the table, even if she really wants to. Therefore, Sod’s law dictates she will end up dithering, must ask what everyone else is having, and her choice will be the alternative the ditherer seems to like best and is therefore about to choose, leaving her no option but to change her mind. It will then become imperative for her to order only after the ditherer has done so, regardless of which way she was going until then. If the ditherer then dithers again and changes their mind, that means she can revert to her original choice. Another oddity insists on trying something new every time they eat out, so they usually pick the least appetising offering and then spend the rest of the evening trying to wheedle their companion into giving them their dinner instead. One couple agree what they’re each going to eat together as a team, then eat half before swapping plates. It’s annoying because it looks codependent, but then you realise it’s a brilliant idea because they both get to try two meals. However, you can’t copy it because you’ve already declared it codependent mockingly. They’ve never fallen out over one of them eating more than their share before donating, but everyone they meet expects the day will come.

Lowest of all must be those who, like Sunak, involve the poor waiter in their decision. Firstly, the waiter doesn’t care. Secondly, just because they like something, doesn’t mean you will, and vice versa. My favourite scene is when the answer to the question, “Do you prefer the chicken or the beef?” is a smug “Neither – I’m a vegetarian” which somehow manages to make the questioner feel both guilty and unhelpfully more indecisive. At the other end of the scale are the hummers who ask to go last (and when finally their turn comes, they say, “I… will… have…” as slowly as possible so they have extra seconds to think), closely followed by the hyper-organised. These impressive creatures have been browsing the menu online for weeks and are prepared: they don’t need to look at it; won’t be swayed by the specials. The only possible key in the works is a last-minute seasonal menu change that leaves them as unknowing and bewildered as the rest of us.

But let’s face it: whether we’re billionaires, ex-PMs or poor people, whatever our methods or madness, we’re all just battling food envy or fear of regret in the world. Never has it been more crucial than now, when times are tight and eating out is more of a treat. Still, there’s no excuse for ordering boring old pasta.

Polly Hudson is a freelance writer.


প্রকাশিত: 2025-10-29 21:00:00

উৎস: www.theguardian.com