BAO Borough | London, England
A table for one at London's BAO Borough for the best pork buns and Taiwanese Fried Chicken in town.
Before 2012, bao buns were a rare British sighting, largely foreign to London’s dining scene. But when Erchen Chang, her husband Shing Tat Chung, and her sister-in-law Wai Ting Chung opened the first BAO location in 2012, the restaurant quickly reached cult status and brought bao buns to the forefront of London’s culinary scene. Now, the buns are found everywhere from the city’s top-rated menus to the prepared food aisles of national supermarkets.
Inspired by a post-graduation road trip that the three co-founders took across Taiwan, BAO began as a series of pop-ups across London before expanding to a permanent location in the heart of Soho. Their signature cloud-like Pork BAO bun — filled with twelve-hour braised pork and fermented mustard greens — became an instant hit, drawing a nearly perpetual line out the door. “If Michelin got off its starched-tablecloth arse and got modern, Bao would be a shoo-in,” writes Lisa Markwell in The Independent. (To the guide’s credit, for eight consecutive years Michelin has recognized BAO Soho with the Bib Gourmand — a rating that recognizes moderately-priced restaurants.)
Today, BAO has expanded its empire to six locations across the city. Each location is distinct in its design and delivery, from a spin on a traditional Taiwanese dumpling house to a twist on a nostalgic foam teashop.
On a recent visit to London, I stumbled upon BAO Borough nestled just below the Canon Street Railway Bridge, a stone’s throw away from London Bridge.
I found myself
A) alone
B) hungry
A quick note on A.
There’s a familiar dread in asking for a table for one. Though irrational, to ask feels as if to publicly confess, “Yes, you are right, I am a loser. I, indeed, do not have any friends.” (I’ve since found out that there’s even a name to describe the fear of eating alone — solomangarephobia — whose symptoms can be Googled here.)
The phobia is widespread: I host at Manhattan’s Gramercy Tavern and at least a few times a shift, solo guests will come in to ask for a walk-in table for one. While some — empirically speaking, mostly men — will confidently ask, turning down an offer to sit at the bar and asking for a table instead, some — mostly women — are shy in their request. “Do you have any room for a table for…one?” they ask, letting out a nervous laugh and lowering their voice as if to let me in on a secret.
And so there I was on the other side of that fearful exchange, asking the host for a table for one and scanning the busy space in hopes I wasn’t the only solo diner and that I wouldn’t be seated where too many eyes would be on me.
The Lonely Man
To my delight (and surprise), the founders of BAO see solo diners as the bread and butter of BAO. They go so far as to sell a “Solo Dining Giftcard” whose description reads: “Send a perfect moment of solitude to a loved one.” (While I love the touch, I must admit that I’d be equally embarrassed to either be gifted it by someone else (what are they trying to tell me?) or gift it to myself. Both choices seem to raise questions.)
The very logo — a sketch of a man eating a bun alone, called the “Lonely Man” — is core to the restaurant’s ethos and was born long before the restaurant opened its doors. The “Lonely Man” logo originates from a performative installation Erchen created while at the Slade School of Fine Art, entitled Rules to be a Lonely Man.
An excerpt from Erchen Chang’s Rules to be a Lonely Man:
“Picture a riverbed with five lonely men, all in specific poised positions, gazing into the shimmering river on a dark night, with a melancholic soundtrack playing in the background. As a spectator, you can’t help but let out a small smirk as you recognize that these singular lonely men, in search of themselves, have gathered in the same spot. Looking past that comical moment, a carefully curated collection of objects in the surrounding scene has created a platform that allows the lonely men to search for a perfect moment in solitude. Each finds themselves in a community of some sort with a shared mission.”
I, the Lonely Man for an evening, sat not on a riverbed but smack-dab in the middle of the crowded restaurant at a community table — the joke’s on me for wanting a hidden table! — surrounded by loving couples and friendly chatter.
I began on apprehensive ground.
Was the couple next to me communicating with exchanged glances about my friend/partner/companion’s whereabouts? Were they playing games to see who could guess how long I would sit and wait alone?
Gradually, I began to settle in.
There are a few perks to eating alone at a sit-down restaurant.
Let me explain.
Firstly, without my own companion to entertain me I could play the “Are they dating/siblings/coworkers game?” with full concentration. Verdict on the pair to my left: Coworkers on a date.
Secondly, I could thoughtfully take in the space. The space — a mirrored 1970s-style brown room with colorful posters of the Lonely Man and an open kitchen — was designed in the style of Asia’s late-night grill houses. I even discovered a hidden karaoke room downstairs with less than sound-proof walls. In 2019, Eater London awarded BAO Borough with the Design of the Year award.
Thirdly, a solo dinner offers the opportunity to taste — truly taste — the food. To accommodate the Lonely Man, the founders thought carefully about the portions. In Taiwan, the traditional gua bao bun is typically two to three times larger than the bun served at BAO. “A lot of people ask why we serve it smaller,” the founders write in BAO: The Cookbook, “Well, firstly it’s because we want diners to sample a range of dishes, not just one. But most importantly, we serve it this way to facilitate that perfect moment of solitude.” My own “perfect moment of solitude” included the Taiwanese Fried Chicken, Classic BAO, Prawn Shia Song, and the Beef Short-rib. Though each is worth a separate trip, I must give a special shoutout to the Taiwanese Fried Chicken, equal parts crispy and juicy.
Just as I wrapped up the final bites of my first solo sit-down meal, I spotted in the corner of my eye another solo diner peacefully enjoying her Wednesday evening meal alone, AirPods in and book out.
There we both were, gathered in the same spot, finding ourselves in a community of some sort with a shared mission: a perfect moment in solitude.
A comical moment, indeed.
Learn more about BAO Borough here.
I actively seek moments to eat out alone, I've always loved it for all the reasons you outline, that chance to watch and listen, the calm and splendour of solitude, the ready made theatre around me. Top tip - Balthazar will give you, gratis, a glass of champagne if you're female and eating alone at lunchtime. I know I know, the patriarchy etc, and I'm a feminist but... but back in the day when I drank, it was a perk of 10,000 years of subjugation. (I think I've digressed... 😬)
I love this and the photos are gorgeous. I went out by myself on Mother's Day recently, my daughter sent me a gift card for brunch and I forced myself to go even though it felt sad for a lot of reasons, but then I ended up having a fantastic time. (although yes I did have a conversation at one point with some people at the table next to me). I always think someone who eats at a restaurant alone is cool and mysterious and interesting, but it doesn't feel that way exactly when you are that person. Still, I recommend it too, and in another country especially.