Dinner
An evening where someone actually listens. No phone face down on the table, no glancing at the bill.
A table for two, and a conversation that stays with you.
You chose what you are wearing tonight, and it will be noticed. Out loud, once, and then we move on, because a compliment repeated all evening stops being a compliment.
Candlelight, a bottle we disagree about pleasantly before agreeing, and a conversation that starts with the menu and ends somewhere neither of us planned. I have opinions about food, about history, and about why nobody should order the safe thing on a first evening. You are welcome to prove me wrong.
My hand finds yours if you want it there, and stays where it is if you would rather it did. What happens after dessert is something we settled before the starter arrived. Or we settled nothing, and I walk you to your taxi and kiss you on the cheek, which is its own kind of good evening.
How it works
- Two to three hours, extendable if the evening asks for it.
- Restaurant of your choosing, or three suggestions from me if you would rather not decide.
- I book the table, under whichever name you prefer.
- Dinner itself is not included in the rate.
- I know which restaurants in Brussels let you talk without raising your voice. It is a shorter list than you would hope.
On consent and safety
Anything after dinner is agreed in advance and can be changed at any point in the evening, including halfway through the cheese.