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These spots, in cities around the country, have long, luxurious tables. Some of them even feature benches. But if you want a room for the night, you'll probably have to look elsewhere. Boston: The Barking Crab Miami: Blue Door New York: Asia de Cuba Republic Portland: Dan & Louis' Oyster Bar San Francisco: Süppenkuche Seattle: Still Life Washington, DC: PHO 75

At a community table, you never know who you might meet. And if you aren't interested in those who eat at 6 o'clock, wait until 7. If you like the looks of someone at the table, you can make a pass at him as he passes the ketchup. If not, you can just toss a cheerful "See ya!" his way as you exit. You don't have invitations to accept, return, or wiggle out of.

If you are in an unfamiliar city, eating at a communal table is a good way to get to know about the place. Others will let you know what's going on and will tell you what you want to know. They may even go with you, if that's what you have in mind.

Communal tables aren't supposed to provide transcendental dining experiences. You don't go there to swish your wine around and look up at the ceiling as though you know what you're doing. You don't hold the glass up to the light to examine it or have an opinion about it. You don't discuss it at all. You order red or white. It comes. You drink it.

These shared tables are sometimes called "family" tables, but this is leagues away from your mother's kitchen. For one thing, you don't have to share your food or wait for everyone to be served. You just order what you want. And you can have three desserts and a gin, or two soups, a brownie and a cup of tea, or a bowl of cereal. Right. Coming up. And if you don't feel like finishing, you pack it into a doggie bag and go. No starving Armenians will be invoked by the waiter.

You can eat whatever makes you happy without anyone nagging. You are allowed to say "WHO-EEE!" or "YUM," but not "I shouldn't," I daren't," or "I can't." Strangers don't nag. Fundamentally, they don't give a fig what you eat. Somebody hands you the menu, brings the food, takes your plate away, washes the dishes and doesn't make you feel guilty for anything you did today or failed to do yesterday.

Communal tables are like updates of the old tavern tradition, when travelers expected to sit at a shared table and linger over dinner or leave quickly to get back on the road. Today they fulfill a similar purpose -- so if you have such a place in your neighborhood, you are fortunate indeed. If not, you could suggest your favorite "tavern" get busy and find a spot in the kitchen or in the dining room for you and others who would much prefer to dine out while dining "at home."