The daffodils are out, and so, therefore, are the optimistic diners. A couple of rickety tables and wonky chairs are dragged out from their storage and plonked on a bit of uneven concrete on what passes as pavement in London.
They are a strange breed, this first flush of outdoor diners who think a tiny ray of weak sunlight breaking through the two-degree cold heralds the start of summer. I’m not talking about the people braving the elements under a leaky conservatory roof, crowded around outdoor heaters and wrapped in blankets, who are best known as smokers or vapers. No, I mean the hardy, ‘freezing fresh air is better than indoor air’ lot we are about to see shivering through their fake smiles as they push aside a bowl of freezing cold soup that can’t quite pass as gazpacho.
I have nothing against outdoor dining, as long as it’s in the actual summer, in the shade and preferably in my garden. That way, I can go indoors if the insects start biting or the ice cream starts melting. Outdoor dining can be lovely – but not when you are pulling on a pair of fingerless gloves while wishing you’d booked a table indoors.
There are some instances where braving the elements is perfectly understandable: for example, where there is no choice. My local café is a hut in the nearby park I walk my dog in. There is a little canopy with a couple of small tables that almost offer shelter from the rain. This morning, I was there in time for the lemon drizzle cake and Basque cheesecake to still be chalked up on the wooden board. I tried a little of each with my fragrant macchiato: all the more delicious for being consumed amongst the newly emerging spring flowers and in sight of the ducks enjoying themselves a short distance away. But my pleasure was possible only because I was already outdoors, and it was my duty to walk Ruby for a good half-hour. The alternative was no cake, no coffee and to wait until I was back in my kitchen.
I suppose the outdoor-eating aficionados are similar to those oddballs who claim to like the rain. Why would anyone enjoy being pelted with freezing, horizontal water?
We all remember the Covid period, when restaurants were closed and we had been confined indoors. Personally speaking, the second they reopened for outdoor dining, just after the third lockdown in May 2021, I was booking as many tables as I could. It happened to be, unlike the year before, a freezing cold spring. More fool me.
I have nothing against outdoor dining, as long as it’s in the actual summer, in the shade and preferably in my garden
I had fondly imagined that eating wrapped up in gloves and 15 layers of wool would be a slight improvement on cooking yet another boring meal whilst hankering after proper restaurant French fries. It was not.
Restaurants will use any space they possibly can to increase covers, so if there are people foolish enough to order food that’s going to become instantly frosty, followed by their mood, then they will.
It’s not just the cold that puts me off eating outdoors. It can be a lovely day, and then the rain starts, and of course there’s no shelter. The seating is almost always inferior to that inside the restaurant – a few chairs bought in the sale or secondhand as an afterthought when the owners realised they were able to get away with commandeering three paving stones without getting fined by the council.
If it really is summer, then pollen, insect stings, and bad service can really put the tin lid on it. Waiting staff, unless the outdoor section is a big part of the area they are responsible for, are understandably less attentive to those they can’t see – including those stupid enough to leave the confines of the restaurant. Napkins can blow away in the gentlest of breezes – and even if it is a nice, sunny day, food temperatures soon drop below optimal.
I’m based in London, where there are often awful smells vying for attention with your delicious truffle-infused soup. And don’t be surprised if builders appear from nowhere, suddenly deciding to drill right above your head and drop debris on to your rapidly cooling food.
My ideal scenario would be a conservatory area that opens up in the nice weather, so there’s lots of light, proper heating, and the illusion of being amongst nature. Otherwise, stay indoors. That’s what restaurants were built for.
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