One sad chunk of salmon crudo in citrus soy dressing that everyone’s too polite to take – that’s what a small plates dinner usually comes down to. Plus, one-third of a portion of miso hispi cabbage and a spoonful of seasonal risotto for the fun, unfilling price of around £65.20. “Does anyone want that?” one person hopefully asks, before the waiter carts away the last morsel of the meal that’s worth about a fiver back to the kitchen, never to be seen again.
Small plates, even if never economical, used to be quite cool and adventurous. Stanley Tucci has openly shared his love for Duck Soup in Soho. Paul Mescal frequents Brat in Shoreditch. You’d be hard-stretched to find an Instagram dump shared by Dua Lipa without a candle-lit photo of a collection of small china plates clustered aesthetically together next to some thin-stemmed wine glasses. Singletons even mentioned small plates in their dating profiles to indicate they were edgy and elegant. This was an à la mode, not à la carte, way of eating. Until it wasn’t.
