The Fear of Silence

No one lets a dish speak for itself anymore.
Every plate arrives with a sentence attached — an origin story, a flourish, a reason for existing. The quieter the food, the louder the explanation.

It’s not really about education. It’s about control. The chef, the server, the brand — all terrified that you might not get it. Silence has become a threat. If you’re not talking, you’re not performing.

There was a time when restaurants trusted the moment between bites — that small hush when people simply tasted, or thought, or said nothing at all. Now that space feels dangerous. Every pause must be filled. Every plate must justify itself.

We’ve mistaken attention for understanding, and noise for meaning. And in the process, dining forgot its best ingredient — the silence that lets something linger.