In a world hyper-focused on who we are in relation to other people, it is a revolutionary act to dine alone. For even the bravest of us, it takes courage to defy the status quo and fly solo. Eating ventures often prolonged by conversations with others become solitary experiences that can, despite our best efforts, position us as misfits.

And despite our own strength, it can feel isolating. Awkward even. Reservations for one aren’t even possible in some restaurants (that’s what the bar is for, right?).

But the secret is that it’s also incredibly liberating to enjoy a meal on one’s own terms – while I love great company, it is empowering to give myself the same level of elevated attention as I would on a date, with my girlfriends, or on a special occasion. And in a way, there’s a silent solidarity when you look up from a delectable bite and realize you’re not the only solo diner.

If dining with others is about community, then the hidden beauty of eating alone is that it heightens our senses to the food & drink we consume. Texture, color, flavor, fat, sweet, bitter, umami…all of it comes to life when we engage in the almost spiritual practice that is solo dining culture.

To draw from personal experience, I recently dined at The Pullman on one of my days off (located in Glenwood Springs, I highly recommend it). As I walked toward the neon red light indicating the front entrance, I felt the familiar rush of excitement and nerves in embarking on an independent adventure (in full transparency, I always feel slight anxiety whenever I do something “au contraire”). As I perused the menu in search of a cocktail, I was enveloped by the ambiance around me.

Exposed brick and warm lighting in contrast with red accents. Gentle music and the low hum of activity. With each course, the senses came alive – the warmth & whimsy of a whiskey old fashioned with pecan simple, the perfect balance of blue cheese & house-made potato chips, the feeling of autumn on a plate in the butternut squash risotto, the earthiness of caramelized onion and sautéed chanterelles, the melt-in-your-mouth fat that is bacon, the freshness of gin & herbs, the saltiness of butterscotch mousse – and in each moment, there was a connection between palate and pleasure.

They say the more, the merrier. And while I do believe there is some truth to this statement, I also believe in taking the road less traveled. If you’re bold enough to indulge in the occasional unaccompanied adventure, then you might discover another facet of living life to the fullest. And trust me, it’s worth it.