The case for… Small plates

Photograph by Shaw + Shaw

Yet there is risk. The tapas predicament. Does everyone get a croquette? How do you divide three between two, or four? Some hate sweet-potato fries, but don’t feel emboldened to speak up. If Jonesy loves grilled asparagus more than anything in the world, he’s still only getting a spear.

Plus, it adds up, doesn’t it? We’re spending more on several bits of meal, rather than our own dish. Is this worth it? Well, I’ll tell you what will cost you more: the conviction, or gnawing suspicion, that someone has ordered better than you. The hour spent wanting to lustily sweep half of Callum’s plate on to yours. Small plates get around this agony.

A few years ago, small plates were everywhere. Any fad will split us into adopters and haters. A more pressing concern is that tables are rarely big enough. I need space for my onglet, as I’ve always said. You can’t be piling cornbreads on samphire foam!

But these are peripheral problems. (Maybe they could make the plates stackable. Or put them on a conveyor belt? Oh, I’ve invented Yo! Sushi.) Is there a superior way of knowing you’re eating the best an establishment has to offer than by having a bite of everything on the menu?