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Back by popular demand, Solo Diner’s Week returns. Originally, Solo Diner’s Week was my alternative version of Valentine’s Day, and this is what I wrote at the time:
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“February marks the month of my least favorite holiday of all time: Valentine’s Day. So fraught with expectations, so impossible to get right, so burdened with Meaning and Importance that it winds up feeling more like a grueling chore than a celebration of love. I don’t celebrate it myself, and working in restaurants has made me like it even less. There’s nothing wrong with people going out for dinner on Valentine’s Day, and I love the fact that people choose to come to Dirt Candy to celebrate a day that means a lot to them, but every Valentine’s Day I bust my butt to make sure that everyone’s meal goes flawlessly and yet diner expectations are so high (“This is the most important meal of our lives!” I was once told) that I feel like I fail just as many times as I succeed.”
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That first Solo Diner’s Week was a huge success – I think I had at least 10 or so solo diners every night, which was fantastic. There’s been a huge demand to do it again, but unfortunately by the time I got around to deciding to do it, Dirt Candy was already booked up for the week of Valentine’s Day 2013. So this year, Solo Diner’s Week will take place from April 1 to April 6. During that week, if you’re dining solo I want you to know that not only are you welcome at Dirt Candy, you’re appreciated. The problem with eating alone is that you don’t get to try enough of the menu, so from April 1 to April 6 I’m doing a prix fixe for solo diners only:
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- $48 gets you -
- a mini-order of hush puppies
- a choice of any of the four appetizers
- a choice of any two entrees (each entree will be a mini-version of itself)
- a choice of desserts
- coffee and tea
- a half-glass of wine
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So make your reservations now, and come on down and have a great dinner with everyone’s favorite person: yourself. Bring a book, bring your iPad, bring your imaginary childhood friends, or just enter a Zen state of solo dining, but don’t bring another human being. They’re just going to tell you a long boring story about work that you have to pretend to be interested in anyways.
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“Oh thank god! No laughing at bad jokes, feigning interest in
boring stories, or listening to ridiculous theories
I don’t actually understand
or even care about. I can finally dine in peace!”
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