Our dining editor writes about a weird year where the feelings flew fast and furious. By Timothy Malcolm 12/24/2020 at 6:00am A typical scene in the Malcolm house in 2020, starring food from Pinkerton's Barbecue. Itâs early February and Iâm sad. Yet again Iâm walking into a restaurant to eat alone. I donât have the vast network of plus-ones to share meals with all the time, and my wife and I donât have the money to constantly pay babysitters to watch our two daughters. While my sadness is pretty silly because Iâm a privileged food writer who actually gets to eat restaurant food all the time, it is my sadness. I tell myself itâs valid.