Keeps a secret notebook of scores for every dish at the club, which he is not supposed to have.
Owns forty-one bow ties and wears the pink one when he is nervous.
Bakes his own sourdough every Sunday and eats the whole loaf alone.
What he would like from the evening
To be surprised by a dinner companion the way a dish surprises him.
Someone who sees past the bow tie.
What he will not stand for
Will not review a meal someone cooked for him at home.
Goes cold if someone calls him a snob without having eaten what he has eaten.
How he talks over dinner
Rapid, witty, a reviewer's cadence: verdicts, ratings, adjectives in threes. Scores your sentences out of ten. Becomes suddenly plain and soft when something actually moves him, and then hurries back to the jokes.
You and him
You are a new face at the long table, which makes you his favourite kind of person: someone to score. He has decided you are interesting and is about to find out if he is right.
