Could you eat exactly the same thing day in, day out, for weeks on end?

Fifteen years ago I worked in an office, back in the good old days when people actually liked going into the office every day because they had their own desk, their own desktop computer and regular deskmates, not some hotdesking hell optimised for isolation in the name of networking where you locked away your personal effects every evening and had nowhere to hang your coat. I miss those days, sometimes.

Back then, for a time, I sat opposite a chap called Neil who told me that at some point in his past, he ate the Prêt tuna mayo baguette for lunch every working day, without fail, for over a year. Didn’t he get bored, I asked him? He said it was just one fewer decision to make, and I didn’t know whether to be impressed or depressed. Maybe he just didn’t like food all that much. I imagine he stopped when, as was the fashion, our office got moved from the town centre to some misbegotten industrial park, nowhere near a Prêt.

I subsequently discovered that this was a lot more common than you might think. Former Deputy Prime Minister and swivel-eyed wrong ‘un Dominic Raab was in the news for doing exactly that back in 2018, and when the story came to light the Guardian unearthed a poll from the previous year before saying that 1 in 6 people had eaten the same lunch every day for the last 2 years. Not only that, but apparently 77% of workers had eaten the same lunch every day for 9 months. Every day. Nine months. You look at that on paper and can’t believe it could possibly be true.

Who are these people, I wonder? They walk among us, they look like us but – like evangelical Christians – I never expect to come across anybody who owns up to being one in daily life. Perhaps those mind-boggling statistics are no longer correct. It’s possible that the pandemic forced people to introduce some variety to their diets: it would be nice if at least one decent thing had come out of that whole affair.

Somehow, when it comes to dinner, having a regular order is more understandable. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t want to go to Clay’s or Kungfu Kitchen and order the same thing every time, however great it would be, but I do get it, especially if you don’t go somewhere too often.

When Gurt Wings was at Blue Collar Corner, I nearly always ordered their Korean popcorn chicken and, on the occasions where I strayed from the path, I usually wished I hadn’t. I’ve had other pizzas at Paesinos, but the one with olives, anchovies and capers remains my favourite. Sometimes you have a regular order because it’s the only thing you especially like. When I meet my family at Pho, their favourite, I always have the wok-fried rice with chicken and fried shrimp: I find the rest of their menu a bit ho-hum.

And yes, some restaurants have must-order dishes, although we could argue all day about what they are: Bhel Puri House’s chilli paneer, perhaps, Kamal’s Kitchen’s pressed potatoes, the Tuna Turner at Shed. But is there ever truly a universal consensus?

Often, when I’ve visited somewhere lauded by the critics and eaten the thing you must try – saffron risotto with bone marrow at Town, or The Devonshire‘s beef cheek suet pudding – it hasn’t knocked my socks off. Maybe dishes only reach that elevated status over time, rather than by the same three private schoolboy nepo babies – you know which ones – telling you what to order in their newspaper columns a few weeks after the place opens, saying something is an ‘instant classic’.

But is there a level even above that? Are there dishes so good that you must visit the restaurant just to try them, and – one final step beyond – so amazing that you have to revisit the restaurant over and over just to get your fix? Such dishes would be unicorns indeed, but this week’s review is of Smoke & Pepper, the smashed burger and fried chicken spot that opened late last year where greasy spoon institution Munchees used to be, because I had a tip-off that hiding on its menu was exactly such a dish.