There are two types of people in this world: Those who must read the menu online before visiting a restaurant and those who choose to wait until their ass is in the dining room seat to see what that place is serving.
It’s with great sadness (because I’m gonna get rightfully owned for this) that I say my boyfriend, an otherwise great person, is the former: He’s a menu-peeper.
I’ll admit that I'm psychotic for caring about this (although by the end of this, I hope you’ll be on my side) but not psychotic enough to declare it a deal breaker. His proclivity toward menu-peeping, is, at most, a small annoyance; something that—if the mood struck me—I could point to as a sign of a larger chasm in our relationship. It’s a playful little issue for me to tease him about and lightly fight about in that not-real way couples sometimes do. But I do need him to know that I’m right about this. And so, here we are.
Let me explain. A meal out, in my mind, is a treat. I’m not someone who eats just not to be hungry. I eat because food fucking rules. I want to get to a restaurant, sit down, unfold the menu, and then discuss every single item on it—especially the things I haven’t heard of. They’re putting carrots with yogurt??? I might say, genuinely thrilled by the idea of that flavor combo. We’ve gotta try that!!!!
My love language is talking about how something might taste and then eating it to find out. The communal chitchat about the appetizers, entrees, and (always) desserts is an essential part of the dining-out experience. If we’ve already decided what we want by the time we sit down, that’s less time to dawdle at the table, watch the people around us, and enjoy one of the best things about being in a relationship: A meal out with your designated table-sharer.
I’ll give an inch and say that, in some situations (like dinner at the same Mexican food place I’ve gone to roughly once a week since I moved to New York), I don’t even need to see a menu, because I already know what I want. There’s comfort in knowing exactly what you want because you've already had it countless times before. But in almost all other scenarios—especially special occasion dinners—I want to get unreasonably excited about whatever the menu might hold during the buildup.
My boyfriend, on the other hand, is always horny to see the menu. Within minutes of deciding where we’re going to eat (or often before that), he’s googled the restaurant, read the menu, and picked several items he’d be interested in. Even worse? Sometimes he sends screenshots, spoiling the surprise for me, a decided non-peeper. I don’t mind it so much when we’re just going out because neither of us feel like cooking in our tiny kitchens. But when we’re getting ready for a Big Dinner Out, at a place with three dollar signs on Google Maps, I would prefer to share the surprise!!!
It’s probably fine to menu-peep in certain situations. Like before an eating date with someone new, when you want to spend more time focusing on the conversation and less thinking about the fart potential of each entrée. But otherwise, I’m firmly against it. A menu is (bear with me here) art, and what’s better than enjoying something new with someone you like?
This isn’t a real relationship problem, and so there’s no advice for me to seek out or give. So, in lieu of that, I’ve resorted to my own tactics: When it’s my turn to pick the restaurant, I no longer tell my boyfriend where I plan to take us. I use this same trick on smaller things, like finding a bar to watch Texas football games at in the fall. I know that if I tell him beforehand, he’ll only text me about how excited he is that canned beers are only $3 or something, and I think it’d be more fun for us to experience that pure joy together.
