Is it just ME?

Or is the 10pm curfew a blessing in disguise?

WHEN it comes to eating and drinking, we are oddly snobby about so many things.

Instant coffee, margarine, salad cream, paper napkins, ketchup bottles on the table — all are regarded with disdain. I can still recall the disgust on one date’s face when I added ice cubes to my glass of Chablis.

But one thing people are extra-snooty about is the time we eat in the evening, especially when dining out.

Moot the idea of an ‘early bird’ dinner at 6pm to friends and you may well be greeted with horror, as if you had suggested all going to naked yoga.

The ideal middle-class restaurant eating time is 8pm — or 9pm if you’re feeling really European. If you can eat dinner at 6pm, then presumably you don’t have an important job and aren’t cramming in spin classes and Pilates after work.

But now, thanks to the

Hurrah! I can eat dinner with friends and still be home in time to watch the 9pm drama in my PJs

10pm curfew, eating at 6pm will be more commonplace and I couldn’t be happier.

Most people eat lunch between 1pm and 2pm (midday is the lunchtime equivalent of 6pm), so waiting eight hours until you eat again is torture.

For me, it leads to snacking on sugary foods at about 4pm, to stave off hunger until I meet my friends at the local Italian at 9pm.

The meal finishes at about 11.30pm, meaning it’s straight home to bed, your stomach still groaning from all the pasta and tiramisu.

So an early bird special? Bring it on!

I can eat my dinner, enjoy the company of my friends and still be home in time to watch the 9pm TV drama in my PJs. I can also down half a bottle of wine and have enough time to drink lots of water before bed.

I have a feeling we will all secretly grow to love the joy of six.