Term: Communal tables.
Look: Lengthy, uncomfortable and back in fashion.
Who would voluntarily eat with strangers as an adult with free will? The younger generation, apparently. Research indicates from the restaurant reservations company Resy, "Nine out of ten of gen Z diners say they enjoy shared seating, compared with just 60% of older generations".
Group dining in nationalistic eateries was a major trend during the WWII, actually – there were about two thousand five hundred of them, backed by Winston Churchill.
This might seem strange to you, I know, but shared dining can be fun! As Pablo Rivero explains: "Dinner becomes a collective event," and "You never know who you’ll be seated next to; that’s the fun of it!"
Or sitting beside a fitness enthusiast eating chicken to fuel his "workout routines"? Or a social media user filming you accidentally of their reel as they massacre a salad? Consider this: gen Z – the most digitally connected group, who came of age during the pandemic, and many of whom started careers remotely – love a structured communal activity. It’s the same impulse driving the popularity of young people’s running clubs, group hikes and crafting nights: they’re seeking real-world interactions.
This may not appeal to you, but many youths feel isolated (Nearly half of them, according to an Oxfam study published in June). In a 2023 US report a third of males aged between 18 to 23 reported they hadn’t seen anyone outside their household in the past week. Isn’t it a good thing they’re getting out and sharing meals with new people?
Talking to strangers is beneficial, too: it gives us a greater sense of belonging. Plus the Resy survey points out another advantage: 14% of survey respondents said they’d landed a date at a shared meal event. Given gen Z have gone off the apps, this gives them a shot at a unplanned "meet-cute".
My work here is done.
Do say: "Gen Z think communal dining ate and left no crumbs."
Don’t say: "It’s all fun and games until someone drops a katsu prawn on your Y2K baggy jeans."