"... and to accompany that?"

As dining out becomes more of a performance should we be thinking more carefully about our choice of soundtrack?
A guitar player in Sardi's restaurant in New York

There are plenty of things in life, which, whilst perfectly enjoyable in their own right, should never be combined. Sex and football; hand-dived scallops and cheesy mash; Simon Schama and Peter Kay; alcohol and landing a plane; that sort of thing. To this list I would add: eating in a restaurant and "entertainment".

It is not a view shared by Jean-Paul Maurel. His Bel Canto mini-chain already runs two, ahem, "lyrical dining" restaurants in Paris, which combine food and live opera. He has just opened a third in London. At a whopping £65-a-head for three courses, diners eat as a cast of professional and student singers perform popular Puccini and Verdi arias on the restaurant floor. Were that not traumatic enough, at the end of the evening, guests - yes, the tone deaf, the drunk, the overbearing am-dram enthusiast - are invited to join in with a rousing chorus of Libiamo from La Traviata.

I don't know much (ie. anything) about opera, but I know enough about eating out and listening to music, to know that the two things are mutually exclusive activities. At its best, eating in a restaurant is all about steeping yourself in the pleasures of good food, drink, friends and conversation. Not dutifully paying attention to a singer, or, worse, being press-ganged into joining in the "fun", like some broadsheet-approved version of Butlins.

Similarly, at its best, live music is an essentially solitary activity, about absorbing yourself in sound, even if you're in a room with 300 people. It should also involve noisy enthusiasm and/ or unselfconscious dancing, neither of which I want at the next table while I'm trying to eat.

It's not just music that grates in a restaurant setting. Roving magicians, film shows, comedians, roulette tables; all of them are equally unwelcome distractions from what's on your plate. Although, judging by Jan Moir's review at Are You Ready To Order?, in Bel Canto's case - "The food makes you want to hurl yourself off the nearest battlements," is her weary conclusion - the operatic interruptions may come as a blessed relief.

If the theory of in-restaurant entertainment is flawed, its invariably timid execution compounds the offence. Bel Canto concentrates, unsurprisingly, on pieces from "the world's most celebrated operas". Wagner's more challenging works - which, I imagine, a serious opera buff might find more interesting - would hardly be a pleasant aural digestif, or a big draw. Which is the whole problem.

If you really care about food, or you really care about music, you won't find satisfaction in the same room. Commercial necessity means restaurants will always go for the most MOR entertainment option available - tinkling pianists; jolly, scat-tastic Cleo Laine-wannabes; gutless flamenco guitarists, slinky, soulful acid jazz combos - rather than anyone doing anything even moderately challenging. It is better to not piss anyone off, than risk giving anyone any genuine pleasure.

It's the same malaise that affects background music in restaurants. Restaurant Magazine used to have a column, Maître DJ, wherein managers talked the mag through their playlists. God it was depressing. To a man, the respondents favoured the kind of bland, offensively-inoffensive musical styles - beige trip-hop, funky house, coffee table world music collections, light jazz - that are only really liked by the kind of people who, fundamentally, don't like music.

Even when it's good, it's bad. Because music is just too personal for such general public spaces. I was quietly amazed at Vermilion in Manchester, recently, to find a DJ playing Booka Shade, Cut Copy and other fine electro in the bar, after I'd eaten. I was a bit tired and emotional, and I warmly congratulated him on his good taste. However, by the looks of things, the three generations of the same family at the next table, and the couples trying to have a romantic night out, were distinctly lukewarm. Who can blame them?

My attitude is simple: say no to entertainment, muzak and gimmicks, and say yes to the convivial noise of conversation.

But what do you think? Am I in a tiny, music-obsessed minority? Do you think Bel Canto sounds like fun? Do you love to tap-a-toe over dessert? Does the rise of the "curryoke" restaurant (yes, that's curry and karaoke) fill you with dread or excitement? You can put me down, if you must, for Heaven Knows I'm Miserable Now....

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