Are supper clubs good value?

Our tame chef leaves the bright lights of London to go to a suburban supper club in someone's house. But does he have a good time?

As you know, dear reader, I’m a live and let live sort of person. If someone’s game to try and do what I do professionally for themselves, having not been trained and without any references to back them up, then let them have a go. But how should we feel about this when money is being handed over?

I ask because a few weeks ago I went to my first supper club - ‘yeah finger on the foodie pulse, that’s me’. To be clear, by supper club I mean someone’s private home turned in to a ‘restaurant’ for all intents and purposes for an evening. The host (usually the home owner) either cooks themselves, or invites others to do so for paying members of the public.

I booked a ticket online and, having my reservation confirmed, headed off, stopping by the off-licence first to buy a bottle to have with my dinner. I did a little reading up on the (untrained) cook in question first, and the online write-ups were largely positive. Why did I go? Well, because I was curious. Having not dipped a toe into the world of the living room restaurateur, I wanted to see what the fuss was all about.

Money for a reduction of old rope?

Adding up the ticket price, the bottle of wine (£14.00) and a tip, it worked out somewhere in the region of £60. Now, in most UK cities I’d wager you could eat pretty well for £60 per person; hit-up some of the better ethnic restaurants in London, and £60 can feed and water two people very well indeed.

The food at the supper club I went to was, at best, average; at worst it really was inedible. One course I simply couldn’t finish it was so badly cooked, another I suspected had been bought in. It really was that bad.

I didn’t complain, which was perhaps foolish and even hypocritical as we professionals would rather something was said at the time than left to fester. But I thought it outrageous that such poor quality food (the service was charming and well intentioned) was being served for the (not cheap) price of admission.

What intrigued me most then, and a question I put to the other diners at my table – none of whom I had met before – , was why on earth did they come to such events?

Better than hanging around on street corners

None of them professed to be ‘foodies’. The two main responses I got were that curiosity had led them to book, or that it was something to do – Wednesday night was cinema night and Thursday night was supper club night. Some had been to other events, though most couldn’t recall a remarkable meal, but said they found it at least an interesting way to spend an evening.

Risky business

You could of course say that choosing to pay money for food prepared by an amateur was a risk if spending that sort of money was a concern. You’d be right, and there are professional, well reputed chefs that host dinners in living rooms and less conventional spaces, some for around the £70 mark inclusive of wine and service. So why chance it?

I elected to go to an amateur cooks supper club because, based on the amount of traffic on Twitter and the blogosphere, it seems to be how these types of events started: enthused amateurs picking up the pans and beating professional restaurants at their own game.

What’s so appealing about handing over not inconsiderate amounts of cash for mediocre cooking? Especially if you live in a town with cost equivalent alternatives cooked by professionals to an, at least, acceptable standard.

So, who are supper clubs for? Have you been to one and felt short-changed? Are they for the serious food lover, or for the bored nine to fiver looking for ways to kill an evening? Or are you brave enough to host one?

Let us know in the comments below.