I’ve just arranged to go out for supper tomorrow night and now I have the dreaded task of finding somewhere to eat. Honestly, life is just too hard sometimes. I mean, can’t understand why it’s so tricky to find somewhere to eat when I just have a few minor – trifling really – criteria that the venue absolutely must have? Like….
~ My dream restaurant has good food. I mean, that goes without saying. A Michelin star would be nice from time to time but sometimes all you want is a dirty burger. Ideally, it would cater for either whim.
~ My dream restaurant has taken this one step further by offering an entirely gluten free menu with all my favourite food on it. Mostly things involving stuff I just can’t face making at home like pastry, or waffles. The pudding menu wouldn’t contain even a whiff of a fruit salad.
~ My dream restaurant has a great atmosphere that’s conducive to conversation but not so loud that we all have to start yelling “EHH?” in each other’s faces. Say it, don’t spray it.
~ My dream restaurant has comfy chairs that don’t leave you feeling like you need a deep tissue massage to recover from the assault to your spine.
~ My dream restaurant has a teleporter-slash-time machine so I can dine with my favourite people whenever I want.
~ My dream restaurant has the perfect portion size that lets you enjoy each course equally and not have to unfasten any buttons on your clothing at any point.
~ My dream restaurant does not have air conditioning set to Arctic Blast which makes both you and your food miserable.
~ My dream restaurant has a killer view. Preferably from up high, perhaps out over beautiful natural scenery or glittering city lights 103 floors below.
~ My dream restaurant has just the right level of service. You don’t feel like you’ve actually said more to your servers than to your dining companion by the end of the night, but you’re also not left waiting for the bill for three hours either.
~ My dream restaurant has loos which are a destination in themselves. Clean, proper doors that actually lock, plenty of loo roll that you don’t have to fight to get out of the holder, taps that operate predictably, nice handwash (nobody uses the handcream do they really?), not smelly, preferably with a champagne bar in the corner with an attendant that can be your New Best Friend.
~ My dream restaurant has free books which you can borrow whilst waiting for your dining companion(s) to turn up. Or if they turn out to be very boring.
~ My dream restaurant is just a short roll to the nearest transport option to take me home. It’s the perfect postprandial walking distance to my house (or I could just use the teleporter).
~ My dream restaurant doesn’t require upwards of a month’s wages to dine there.
What would your dream restaurant look like? And tell me, have you found MY dream restaurant? If so spill, I need to make reservations asap.