Returning "home" to London where I lived for several years - but had been away from for over 15 years - I decided to walk the breadth of the city on a stunning October Saturday afternoon. From Embankment all the way through the City, then Holborn, TCR, towards W1 and my friend's flat on Seymour Street in Marble Arch. It's a loooong way.
I was nearly home by 8pm when my feet and lower back screamed "you must sit your ample arse down and eat," so I did.. It was either that or lay across the hood of a London cab and fall asleep. I was challenging myself to keep my cash and *not* give in to a taxi.
At the time of said foot/back/arse revolt, I found myself standing in front of a smart but inviting looking bistro where some well dressed front of house people were whizzing around taking care of happy-looking customers - neither all local or tourist, but they had that "we know where we're eating" look... Can a customer table look brainy? What does that even mean? I imagined they were literary agents, economists and artists. I am probably high. Never mind.
The tallish fellow seemed relieved when the faint-looking woman with backpack and iPad opted to come indoors (if only to phone a paramedic perhaps). I practically fell into their arms. They gave me a table, a lovely big round table by the window. They treated me like a queen and fed me gorgeous, perfectly prepared food. Venetian pasta for starter, followed by a Fritto Misto that was to DIE for. Light, light, light. Never hovering, they sensed when I needed a bit of something. I asked for lemon for my pasta (an anchovy paste, acquired taste but I love it - needed a bit of acid, and Mr. Tall and Handsome stepped behind the bar, cut a whole, perfectly ripe lemon and presented the entire thing to me on a plate).
The whole meal was like this. Simply prepared, perfect ingredients. Expert but non-fussy service. Yes, they do that "Italian man" thing - Senora this etc., very elegant... but *not* cheesy. They have clearly grown up in this business and breathe it naturally.
This single woman traveler was treated like a visiting princess - by both the gentleman and the lady wait and host staff. I particularly thanked them for this experience, the woman server especially, and she said "But of course, you deserve a lovely meal, and it's quite normal of course."
In her world perhaps, but in my experience it's a bit less common for a single diner to be so cossetted. :) To reward them, I'm taking my host and his mum to dinner there tomorrow. And if my husband puts me out with the cat because I've spent too much, I shall move back to London and ask for a job waiting tables at 2 Veneti. Perche non? read more