Is it rude to refuse to share your food at a restaurant? - Food Files

Sep 19, 2023

It's mine, all mine!

“Everything is designed to be shared. You’ve got your smaller share plates at the top, then a couple of mains to share, and sides down the bottom for the table to share.”

The run-through of menus almost always starts with the share plate spiel, to the point where it’s a bit jarring to read ‘$12 each’ next to any starter. Outside of a pub bistro, where even schnitzels and steaks are losing their crowns as king, communal-style eating has never been more in vogue. To the delight of some, and the chagrin of others.

To those in the former camp, it is simply not feasible that a main leave you satiated, rather than gasping for air and popping buttons. The prospect of the share plate means your chance to try the full expression of a restaurant’s menu. And dinner envy is very real. For those who prefer the individual meal, there are myriad reasons to prefer going stag.

Related story: Mezze for one

I don’t know about you but I’m always a little suspect of folks who order individual meals (allergies and dietaries excluded). To me, the very core of human love lies in the sharing of food – to offer something so critical to our survival to another, simply because we think they might enjoy the flavour, is why we come together to break our bread.

And while that may be reaching back into the cave of our homo sapien forbearers, the sharing of food in a restaurant has, right or wrong, always been a gauge of the company around me.

There are, of course, two sides to this coin. For some, they have planned their starter, main and dessert story arc, with any deviation an unnecessary plot-twist. For others, they want to know exactly how much to budget for. Some people simply do not like to share their food. If they know their plate is delicious, why would they want to pick at potential duds on the other side of the table? I can’t relate, but I can respect.

But with the rise of multicultural dining in mainstream Australia since the 1980s, the indelible knock-on effect of tapas, mezze, antipasti, pintxos and even dim sum, has basically trained us into eating family-style. After all, if Average Joe has suddenly left behind the meat and three veg when presented with a trio of ‘exotic’ dips, we can’t very well expect him to stop at one. And nor should he. Especially if he’s happy to split dessert.