It’s me. It really is.
A year ago I would have sat in front of the plate of food, as I did last night, and rubbed my hands with glee.
But I have changed. If not in the last year, definitely over the number of meals I have eaten up here in Newcastle.
This isn’t a criticism of the food, the cooking or the restaurant – though service might have got a straight line smile if I was asked for feedback.
No, this is simply a reflection that I am looking for more from a night out.
The same could be said for the young lady who was markedly over dressed, both for her companion and the restaurant I assume he chose.
I have been told I did it wrong, but it is my approach. Ordering the entry level burger to see how good it tasted, rather than masking it with flavours that could detract from the cooking (peanut butter, really?).
It just didn’t hit the spot. It lacked – something. I just wanted something to wow me and what I got was a variant on something I have had time and time again.
It wasn’t the best, it definitely wasn’t the worst – it was, average.
Everything about it could have been better.
Which is why I know I am the one that has changed. My tastes, my wants – lie somewhere else.
So when another recommendation hit my Instagram timeline today I knew, next week promised so much more.
Last night will have to be consigned to the past. In more ways than one.