The manager of a thriving Washington restaurant showed me his crockery pantry recently. Its shelves were packed to the ceiling with plates of different shapes and sizes. If we followed this common example, we'd need to buy ourselves shallow wide dishes with wide brims for fish balanced on pillows of puree. We'd need rectangular plates in glass or slate for Asian specials, and enormous bowls that won't stack in a regular dishwasher for braises and soups.

Does the shape of a dish deliberately distract from its contents? Are hot new restaurants so over-designed we no longer focus on what we're eating? In some spots, the whole dining experience can often seem to be more about style than taste. You need the will to survive the elegance of the chill woman in the severe Mao suit who leads you to your table, the demanding attention of a room designed to within an inch of its minimalist feng shui'd life, and cutlery sometimes so cutting edge in shape it's uncomfortable to hold and hard to balance on the side of the plate.

At a table next to mine at a Restaurant Week dinner, the enthusiasm from the diners was for the look of the dish, not what was on it. They lifted it, examined its makers' stamp and made a mime of stuffing it into a handbag. They didn't say anything about the food.

So buy yourself some dishes the size of a birdbath, load the table with tealights, invite the gang, shout loudly at everyone across the food and lift that Chinese take-out to a whole new level.

Posted on Friday 25th January 2008 in Blog