Before the invention of the supper club, my only experience of communal dining in London was being poked in the sides by the elbows of a chopstick wielding stranger sitting on a cramped bench at Wagamama. I would like to believe that this seating arrangement is designed for people to make new friends but I fear it’s merely a way of cramming more people into the damned place. I like to chat to the people next to me, but only if they want to chat back. Otherwise it’s pretty awful. And that’s why I love supper clubs. Where else can you start dinner with complete strangers and end up eating off each other’s places, sharing family histories, dirty jokes and social media details? London has become a place where eating out is less expensive than eating in, where chains have the same permanently chalked on specials boards at all their branches and the glamour of eating out has pretty much died. Supper clubs have come to the rescue, offering fuss-free delicious food from a menu that …