Everything that is great about lunch is unwelcome in the modern bustle. The idea of taking a couple of hours of pleasure in the middle of the day to eat is anathema to the always-online working world and—in the era of Ozempic and What I Eat In a Day posts on social media—the concept of a large feed seems indulgent to the point of grossness. That is before you have even considered the spectacle of drinking alcohol in the middle of the day. Between abstemious Zoomers and busybody puritanical bosses, even sniffing at a lunchtime drink feels like it could occasion the sack. 

It is a pity. Lunch, performed with the correct liturgy, is one of our most civilized institutions. In The Theory and Practice of Lunch (1986), the journalist and playwright Keith Waterhouse makes a persuasive case that it is the finest meal of the day. He defines lunch as “a mid-day meal taken at leisure by, ideally, two people. Three’s a crowd, four always split like a double amoeba into two pairs, six is a meeting, eight is a conference.” While he allows that a “little light business may be touched upon,” the occasion is “firmly social.” 

His principles still hold water today. A great lunch must have no more than three people. It must be at a restaurant that feels like an occasion without being stuffy: not the Ritz, not McDonald’s, but somewhere in between. It is not a moment for diets—skip breakfast or dinner instead. Ideally it should be three courses, perhaps with dessert or cheese shared afterward. Drinking is not compulsory, of course, but those who want to ought to be encouraged: a martini or a glass of champagne to start and as many bottles of wine as required. No judgment. 

Above all, Waterhouse knew lunch was an intimate thing, a secret snatched while the rest of the world was busy at its desk. He would have hated smartphones, no doubt, and demanded that there be no Whatsapping or Instagramming during the holy service. It is sound advice. Now more than ever, lunch is something to be fought for and jealously defended. “Whether they know it or not, for as long as they linger in the restaurant they are having an affair,” Waterhouse wrote. “The affair is lunch.” It’s time to rekindle the romance.