There are many ways of dividing people into separate but equal groups, and when it comes to dining, one of the more interesting points of division is between those who always order what their companion is ordering and those who never order what their companion is ordering. Life is much easier with the former; all you have to do is let them copy your meal.
But in the case of the latter, perusing the menu turns into an exercise in negotiation. You say you want salad. They say they want salad more than you want salad, so why don't you get the soup? You say that instead you'll have mozzarella marinara. They point out that the marinara is nearly identical to the sauce on the veal they were planning to order, so why don't you get the calamari fritti? You respond that since you were going to get the salmon, the calamari seems a bit much, and why don't they get the sautéed chicken livers? They parry with a remark about your innate selfishness, and how you know they hate liver. And all this happens before the water and bread have even arrived.
So, how does one deal with a meal that's turned into a negotiation worthy of the talks with North Korea about disarmament? One trick is to go to restaurants where the portions are so large, you're forced to share. For instance, at Buca di Beppo and Maggiano's Little Italy, every dish is calibrated to stuff half a dozen big eaters. No need to negotiate – there’s going to be plenty for everyone to sample.
Dim sum is another good way around the issue. As the carts roll by at hyper-popular places like Ocean Harbor and H.K. Golden Phoenix, most diners grab as much as they can, piling the table three deep with dishes of shui mai and har gow, of bao baked and bao steamed. The act of ordering – and the subsequent arguing – can be completely avoided.
Ditto the wonderful world of the churrascaria. At Fogo de Chão or Chima Brazilian Steakhouse, the salad bar is up to you and after that it's meat and more meat. Who cares what anyone is eating as long as everyone just keeps eating and eating. There’s no negotiation, just joyous gluttony.
Another option is the wonderful world of the small-plate restaurant, most of which are wine and beer intensive – places like Ansill, Chick's and Snackbar. When all the plates are small plates, not much negotiation is needed, because there's a tendency to get a bit of everything. Perhaps you'll end up with too much of everything, but when the plates are small it never seems all that much.
-Merrill Shindler