How to Order Small Plates for the Table

The world of dining and drinking is an obstacle course wrapped in a labyrinth wrapped in a logic puzzle — it’s full of pitfalls, gray areas, and bewildering questions that really shouldn’t even be questions (How do I find the bathroom?) and yet, somehow, are. Fortunately, your friends at Eater are here to help: Life Coach is a series of simple guides to the arcane rituals of modern dining.

While a menu of plates organized from smallest to largest, without anything so gauche as the separation of “appetizer” and “entree” marring the page, may be the norm now, it’s one I continue to resent. On top of having it explained to me anew every time I sit down, I find the explanation rarely prepares me for the actual art of ordering. I am either left bursting while dishes continue to arrive, or paying $75 for what amounts to snacks. And anyone who has received a single scallop, or three chickpea fritters, knows that these plates rarely feel like they’re really “for sharing.”

Still, the reality is here, so we better navigate it. One way to successfully order from one of these menus is to look at the tables around you to see just how big everything is. Maybe the bread course is quite hefty, or maybe it’s a slice of focaccia with a thimble of olive oil. Or maybe you were thinking of six plates, but after seeing the size of the whole roasted fish you think that four would be just plenty. But the best way I’ve found to actually have a satisfying meal is to ask the server how many dishes they’d recommend, and then order one fewer dish than they tell you.

Any restaurant, even those with the most friendly servers and relaxed vibes, would still love to upsell you. And that’s much easier to do with shared plates, when there’s less intuitive knowledge of how big anything will be. Typically you’ll be given a range, perhaps they’ll say that most guests order six to eight plates, and you’d assume that seven would be the right number. But that range is likely already an inflation, or at least obscures some truth. Maybe eight would be plenty if you only ordered the smallest things, but add some of the plates from the bottom of the menu in there and it’ll likely become too much.

I utilized this strategy the last few times I dined at small plates restaurants. If I was given a range, I chose the smallest number, and if I was given one number I ordered one fewer. Each time I fared far better than if I went by the server’s suggestion, or just ordered with my gut. I mostly had room for dessert and left feeling sated but not like I immediately needed to lie down. The only problems were holding strong against suggestions that maybe we wanted to add just one more, or the look of “are you sure?” when we ordered less than recommended. It turns out, neither circumstance is an actual problem.

The remaining issue, however, is needing to have a secret plan every time you dine out. Between this, deciphering what “service fees” are, and many restaurants only being open a few days a week, what is supposed to be a night of relaxation and being served starts to feel like a lot of work. The lack of standardization around the definition of a “shared plate” means every night out starts to feel like a totally new experience. This strategy can help. But please, restaurants, just tell me which ones are the appetizers.