Dining In - The New Restaurant Experience...

Attending or hosting a dinner party quite literally fills me with dread. A bizarre and irrational fear, considering my background in hospitality and catering, but nonetheless it continues to plague me. Both roles have their drawbacks – being the only veggie guest at the table singles you out for special attention, while as the host you're confronted with a list of your guests' likes and dislikes. My past attempts at the latter have been unsuccessful for the simple reason that my meat-eating companions have been surprisingly fussy about their fruit and veg. Frankly for them, the thought of coming to a veggie residence for tea is both exotic and alarming! What if I try to feed them tofu? Or a vegetable, bean and lentil concoction without prior warning? Some people have even prepared a contingency plan in case they go hungry, such as stopping for a pizza or a kebab on the way home. Apparently, it's not a meal without the meat, just an ample snack. There's also the clash of different tastes to consider. I like my food bursting with flavour – spicy, sweet, tangy etc., colour and different textures. My cupboards overflow with all sorts of spices, herbs and condiments. The mere hint of chilli and for some reason olives, however, has sent a few of my invited guests into a full-on anxiety attack and that's just over the phone or via email.

Acting as a veggie host is a risky business. How far do you go to please your carnivorous diners? I know some fellow vegetarians who will cook meat when catering for others not of the veggie persuasion. In my earlier years this would not have been an issue. As a student, I worked at a local B&B preparing the cooked breakfasts, while at catering college I remember one occasion having to gut and descale salmon. I reeked of fish for days! Back then I didn't have a problem cooking or handling meat and fish, as long as I didn't have to partake in the actual eating. Now this seems almost inconceivable, particularly in my own kitchen. Yes, I still take perverse pleasure sometimes in the smell of a roast or joint cooking, but it's of memories gone by and not one of denial. I don't believe veggies should be expected to cater for meat-eaters in their own home. Controversial you might say when it's assumed others will cater for us. Dining in may be the new restaurant experience, but it puts vegetarian hosts in a bit of a pickle. Scoring points is the name of the game, so patrons feel it's within their rights to be vocally critical and unappreciative of veggie cuisine – an unsatisfactory entrée to the evening ahead. I would never dream of being picky and openly judging someone's attempts to cater for me, but perhaps naively so. Maybe subconsciously I form lower expectations or overly acknowledge others efforts. Perhaps in the company of others I make discretionary compensations for my veggie needs...

Failed attempts to get others to embrace a meat-free experience has led me to abandon the invitation altogether. It saps my enjoyment and creative skills. I'd rather eat out and deal with the veggie assault course in a restaurant than in the confines of my own home. Dining in is now selfishly reserved for one. I don't profess to create masterpieces, but I'm a competent cook and I savour my own tasty creations. There are no rules. I'm free to experiment as I please and there's nobody, apart from myself, to judge the outcome. I scoff my own modest endeavours whilst “Come Dine With Me” provides the necessary background entertainment. Pure selfish indulgence without constraints and real-live guests to contend with. Even as veggie, I refer to this as my “Aaahh, Bistro...” moment – it puts a smile on my face and stomach!