'There is only one correct time to have dinner.'

I'm currently locked in a battle with the Sydney food scene. The enemy? Any dinner booking before 7.30 PM.

And let me tell you, I'm losing the fight spectacularly.

We are living in an era defined by the tyranny of the 6pm booking. It's everywhere. It haunts me over at OpenTable, it mocks me on SevenRooms, and it makes my internal clock scream in protest.

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I refuse to believe we, as a collective society, have devolved to a point where a prime-time weekend dinner slot means I'm seeing the dessert menu before the sun has gone to sleep.

A few weeks ago, I was trying to lock in a booking for a friend's birthday (a milestone event) that was two months away. Every respectable eatery had one slot: 4.30pm.

Everything else was either fully booked or required me to literally start eating my main course while the waiters were still unfolding the tablecloths.

My friends and I call these unfortunate early meals the "geriatric dinners," but honestly, that's an insult to the elderly. At least they earned the right to an early dinner by living a full life. We are being forced into this twilight dining zone by restaurant capacity and the death of post-work life.

Growing up in an Indian household, dinner was always around 8.30pm. This wasn't some niche habit, it was the norm. We didn't rush. We settled in. The evening belonged to us.

Now? Now, I have to eat at 6pm. It's a tragic, shameful fact that my inner body clock has been completely corrupted.

My working theory is that the COVID-19 pandemic and the subsequent lockdowns are the sole culprits. They trained us all to finish our WFH day, shuffle two metres to the kitchen, and be ready to eat by 6pm sharp.

Restaurants, sensing an opportunity for better turnover, happily obliged by opening and closing earlier. It's a convenience that has stealthily become a lifestyle cage.

The problem is, this timing has entirely swallowed the evening.

When my friends and I go out, we usually meet straight after work. Why? Because the idea of finishing up, dealing with the peak-hour commute home, and then having to turn around and go out again for a 7.30pm booking feels like we're training for a marathon.

Also, it's pretty clear that none of us are staying in the office until 7pm for a booking. We want to get out of there ASAP (sorry to my boss reading this).

So, the default has become the 6pm booking. And it's criminal because it completely kills the momentum and magic of a night out. It feels rushed, it feels like an extension of the workday, and it guarantees you'll be ready for bed by 9pm (gross).

When I recently took a friend out from overseas, they were genuinely disgusted when last drinks were called at 9.30pm. They called it "absolutely criminal," and they were right. We claim to be an international city, and yet I'm seeing zero international spirit.

The real drama happens when I go home for a family dinner. Because I'm now trained to eat at the hour of dawn, I literally sit there counting down the minutes before I hustle everyone out the door for our booking.

Then, my parents commit the ultimate act of betrayal: they order drinks first, chat for 15 minutes, and tell the waiter, "We just need a few more minutes with the menu." I sit there, contemplating whether starvation is a suitable reason to call the police and wonder why the people who gave me life hate me as a person.

Not to over-dramatise the situation, but I've actually had to train myself to learn how to have dinner at a later hour again. It took months of workshops, having double dinners (don't look at me like that), and shedding a few tears.

It's time we admit that 7.30pm is the absolute sweet spot and we as a society, need to cement this as the norm.

It is the perfect, most diplomatic hour. It allows for a cheeky post-work lie-down, a quick change, and a glass of wine without having to eat your main course at the same time you eat your lunch. Crucially, it respects the sacredness of the evening.

It's 7.30pm. It's not 6.30pm. It's not 11.30 PM. It's not a big ask. It's the bare minimum required to maintain a functioning, fun social life. I'll keep fighting for this later booking time, even if it means I'm the last one standing at the restaurant.

If you want more from Emily Vernem, you can follow her on Instagram @emilyvernem.

Feature image: Supplied.