Quarantine. Lockdown. Isolation. With COVID-19, these became everyday words. The pandemic has meant loss of livelihood, and loss of life, for far too many people. The hospitality industry has been decimated by the closure of restaurants and the loss of millions of jobs, and there is nothing good to say about this reality. But a strictly economic point of view doesn’t take culture into account. For those of us who—whether through privilege or good fortune—have managed to keep our lives intact, the shuttering of restaurants has created privation of a different sort.

It may seem frivolous to bemoan the consumer’s lost ability to eat out, if that is the only disruption to our lives. It certainly isn’t a matter of urgency. And in fact, until a few weeks ago, I felt guilty about complaining that I couldn’t go out to eat, especially at a time when so many families can barely afford to feed themselves. But without making light of that desperation, I realize that consumers, too, have lost something vital. Restaurants aren’t simply about indulging one’s senses or having the leisure and means not to stand over a hot stove. They represent a vibrant, expansive world that, at its best, carries us beyond the limitations of our own, narrow culture, by offering new sensations of taste and presentation that stimulate curiosity and imagination. Restaurants are often the point of entry into unfamiliar cultures, and in that respect, they represent education in the most basic sense of the word, which comes from the Latin root meaning “to lead out.” In losing restaurants, we lose an educational opportunity, an immediate means of being led out of our small zones of comfort. This process helps us become better citizens of the world.

That is reason enough to rue the loss of restaurants. But there is more. In losing these public venues, we risk losing sociability, an important aspect of commensality. The pandemic has forced us into isolation, into constricted, physically distanced “pods,” insisting that we take meals alone or in tiny groups rather than sharing the table with others. And we have to ask whether these solo, artificially bounded meals are as meaningful, lacking as they do the intimate community that a shared table creates. Sharing a meal is a deeply human activity, one that differentiates us from other species. It turns the biological act of eating into something more profound. Restaurants both enable and encourage this communion with others. As we partake of a meal together, in public, we momentarily transcend our individuality and become part of a larger whole.

What does the future hold? Restaurants will return. For those who open them, many of whom are struggling immigrants, they will continue to offer a path to a better life. But some aspects of restaurant culture will necessarily change. The long farm tables that promoted spontaneous conversation among strangers will likely disappear, as will the delightful intimacy of sharing numerous small plates passed from hand to hand. Fear of contagion changed dining habits during the Enlightenment, when a generation of educated diners, newly concerned about hygiene, stopped dipping into the table’s communal bowl and demanded individual place settings and cutlery, thereby marking out private space within a public setting. Since that time, we have come full circle, reveling in small, shared plates and dipping into common dishes with our hands, hoping to regain a sense of oneness with our companions (whose very name reflects the sharing of food, com panis, “with bread”).

This style of dining will likely cede to a more individualized table, at which portions are served on disposable (and ideally plant-based) tableware to avoid any contagion. The re-conceived restaurant should also strive to make diners aware of the labor involved in getting the food to the table—not just that of the cooks, but also of those harvesting the fields, and those who clean the kitchen after us. Restaurants can lead by recognizing the human cost of each meal, not just setting its sticker price. In this way we can hope to have a truly collective experience that embraces not just those at the table, but the entire chain behind the meal.

Then restaurant meals will be genuinely convivial, evincing awareness that we are all in this together.