A simple guide to mastering self-care dining.
To start
Wander past Soho Square to the corner of Old Compton and Greek Street. Look at the raindrops dancing at your feet, the fall leaves glistening and puddles reflecting the red glow of cautioning tail lights.
Enter Café Boheme and ask for a table for one. Ask with joy. Ask as if it is the most normal thing in the world. Reject any pity the waiter may cast your way. You are here to treat yourself, to delight your senses and it requires your rapt and undivided attention. No. There will not be anyone joining me. Graciously pile your coat, scarf and bag on that empty chair next to you!
Sophisticated solo diners indulge in offal on the regular. Order the Chicken Liver Pâté and a Boheme spritz (St. Germain, Suze, sparkling wine and grapefruit tonic, garnished with ruby grapefruit wedge). Forlorn harmonica. French jazz accordion. Warm light. Fast service. Eclectic, buzzing crowd. Staff glide through their tasks as if in an exuberant, extemporaneous dance. The sprtiz hits. Ah. If a smile wells up from deep within, don’t hold back. Let the strangers stare.
Adore Café Boheme; the art on the walls, the metallic fragrance of the polished brass, the candlelight, the ebb and flow of music, people, laughter, the crash of breaking glass. Forget your cares. Be thankful to be alive and fortunate enough to dine out.
The Main
Cross Cambridge Circus. Artfully dodge taxis and tourists. More puddles. Enjoy them. Observe how they reflect the cityscape. Beautiful, no?
Enter Flesh and Buns, Seven Dials. Sky Train pumps out of the sound system. Rhythmic bass with honey-smooth contralto vocals. Head down to the basement. Wooden booth dividers, reminiscent of Minka partitions, create cosy nooks. Diners are mellow and the atmosphere is more sedate. This is perfectly fine.
Wait for the Crispy Duck Leg Bao. The wait is ridiculously long but glass of Alvarinho is generously topped up. Get seriously tipsy. Nap in the dipping bowl. Rest is an important part of self-care. The duck arrives. Wow. Is it ever crispy. The duck needed time. Respect the time needed to attain this level of perfect crispiness.
Bao building: smother sauce, cram in cucumber slices, layer lettuce and dish out the duck. Big bite. Big smile.
Would you care to see the dessert menu?
Full and content, stroll the cobbles of Seven Dials and contemplate what confection will delight and draw the evening to a close.
Mon Plaisir! Drift back to France. This is the oldest French restaurant in London. The interior is so charming and the staff are exceptionally polite and attentive. Order a tawny port and warm Tarte Tartin with a melting scoop of vanilla ice cream. Let it remind you that nobody can love you quite the way you do. And each day is an opportunity to extend that level of love to any other human being you encounter. It makes the world a beautiful place.
