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Silly Internet Journal


September 21, 2004

Table Manners

* * * Don't take this too seriously. I'm a bit under the weather, and rambling on purely to get my mind off my discomfort. * * *

Ah, che barbaro appetito!
Che bocconi da gigante!
Mi par proprio di svenir.

--Mozart, Don Giovanni

VAGUELY ABSURD LESSONS IN TABLE MANNERS FOR FOLKS WHAT ARE DEAD COMMON, BUT DON'T NECESSARILY HAVE TO ACT LIKE IT WHILE IN THE COMPANY OF THOSE WHO ARE NOT QUITE SO, YOU KNOW, HOPELESSLY PROLETARIAN

Table manners--oy. I mean, yikes! People nowadays, they're just unbelievable. Animals, if you ask me. Fork-wielding chimpanzees. You don't have to know which fork is best suited for which course (although, in general, one works inwards when confronted with several sets of cutlery). You needn't even know which utensil goes in which hand. Really, the objective is perfectly simple: to avoid doing anything overtly repugnant, which might offend your comrades in cutlery. Whether you're sat between two Prime Ministers at a state banquet, or eating Chinese food out of boxes in your living room, it's only considerate to observe the following courtesies:

RELAX, ALREADY!

No-one is going to snatch your dinner away if you don't finish in an expeditious manner. Nor is the last person to clear their plate a dirty, rotten egg.

a) Bite Size: Unless you are eating the world's messiest taco, in which case you can throw very nearly all manners out the window, all bites should be kept to a reasonable size. Never, ever use enormous bites. Enormous, for these purposes, would refer to any bite which requires that you open your mouth more than half an inch to get it inside. Your mouth should never, ever gape.

NB: if a bite is not unduly large, but shaped awkwardly, so that you'd have to tilt your head or stretch your mouth to fit it in, discreetly remove that bite from your fork and try again.

b) Bite Spacing: Ever seen that episode of The Sopranos where--well, just about any episode where they're eating, in fact? That is a perfect example of revolting bite spacing. Never insert a second bite the instant you've swallowed the first. This makes you look like a glutton, and is completely unacceptable. When dining in company, always leave enough time between bites to utter or listen to between one and five sentences.

c) Drinking: Never, ever drink in such a way that a beverage moustache might form on your upper lip. That is to say, sip; don't gulp. No matter how thirsty you are, it's never acceptable to drain more than an eighth of a glass of anything at a draught. This goes double for alcoholic beverages. What are you, some kind of lush?


SILENCE IS GOLDEN

While dinner-time conversation is a wonderful thing, food-related noise should be kept to a minimum.

a) Smacky Lip/Tongue/Cheek Noises: I once dated a gentleman who was a chronic smacker. The noise was so offensive I could hardly bear to eat in his company. Put me right off my food, he did. He protested that he couldn't help smacking, that his lips were too big, his mouth was too wet, that he couldn't breathe if he didn't open wide for every bite--rubbish! If you are a smacker, for the sake of everyone around you, do make every effort to knock it off. Taking smaller bites can help--my smackerly gent was also a large biter, which contributed to his obnoxious noising.

b) Slurping: If your soup is too hot to eat without some elaborate blow-and-suck ritual, let it cool for a while. Do not blow little soup-globules all over the table, and your fellow diners. Do not take little guerrilla-style slurps. Wait till it has cooled sufficiently to be eaten in proper bites. Beverages, of course, should also be consumed in a slurp-free fashion.

c) Clacky Teeth-On-Cutlery Noises: Don't clack your cutlery on your teeth. The odd accidental click can be ignored, but if you do it with every bite, it's extremely, extremely irritating. It makes your fellow diners want to grab your utensils out of your hands and ram them straight up your arse. That they restrain themselves is a testament to their taste and breeding. In return for their forbearance re: fork-assisted buggery, please keep the metal off the enamel.

d) Sniffling: When eating extremely spicy food, your nose may begin to run. This is a difficult situation, because your fellow diners don't particularly want to be subjected to a sniffle or a noseblow. The best solution to this one is to eat spicy food in very small bites, liberally interspersed with samples of non-spicy side dishes and beverages. That way, your nose is less likely to begin running in the first place.

NB: If you have a cold, allergy, or similar condition, which is causing you nasal distress, apologize to your fellow diners once, at the beginning of the meal, then strike the subject from the conversation. Nobody wants to be reminded of your mucus problems every ten minutes.

e) Rude Bodily Noises: No burping or farting. Ever. It may be a compliment to the chef in certain parts of...Indonesia, is it?--but it's not the done thing at my table.

f) Coughing or Sneezing: Always turn away from the table if you are coughing or sneezing. If you are having a severe coughing fit, why are you even here? Man, go home! Have some NyQuil! (If you absolutely can't remove your virus-ridden presence from the table, however, do leave the room for any protracted hackfests you feel like having. It's simply unappetizing.)


PLAYING WITH ONE'S FOOD, AND OTHER DISAGREEABLE HABITS

Your steak tartare is not a Jello Jiggler. Stop poking at it, belay the jokes about it getting up and walking off the table, and eat it already.

a) Using your Fork like a Shovel: Don't do it. Your fork was designed with prongs for a reason. If it had been intended for use as a shovel, it would be--it would be a flattened-out spoon, wouldn't it? Spear small portions of food, convey them to your mouth, repeat. When holding your fork, do so in a relaxed manner, with the tips of your fingers. Never grip it like a dildo. Your fork is not a dildo.

NB: When eating unspearable food, such as creamed potatoes, you may scoop up small bites. However, only use the front third of the tines in this manner, and use the back of the fork, not the front. If you load up your whole fork, or use the front, you are back in shovel territory.

b) Making Squeaky Noises with your Knife: If, as you attempt to cut through a particularly tough section of meat, your knife begins to make little squeaky-scrapy noises on your plate, withdraw said utensil immediately. There are two reasons for this: 1) you don't want to eat that part of your T-bone, anyway--trust me on this one! 2) it's really annoying. If you absolutely must eat the recalcitrant bite, discreetly move your meat onto a leaf of lettuce, or some other food that can separate your knife from the plate long enough for you to cut through the gristle.

c) Shoving your Food Around: You don't want to eat it, so you're shoving it around and making believe you're participating in regular dinner-time activities. Newsflash: everyone knows you don't want to eat it. You're already being rude by turning up your nose at my tasty veal. Don't be revolting as well. Peas shoved into carrots shoved into gravy shoved into tiny chunks of meat you cut to precisely one centimeter by one centimeter--that mess you've got there looks like vomit. Nobody likes to see vomit at table.

d) Tearing up your Napkin, Et Cetera: Don't do weird things with your napkin. You may, if you feel so inclined, fold it into an interesting origami shape, but only if you're good at it, and only if the meal is a) already over, or b) not yet begun. This is a nice conversation piece, and, hey, everyone likes paper cranes. However, it is never acceptable to rip up your napkin, stuff it into your drinking glass, make a paper aeroplane out of it, or use it to wipe the dog after you've spilled mashed potatoes on his head. (Well, you could use it to wipe the dog, but, really, it's better if you kept your mashed potatoes to yourself, in the first place.)

e) Wiping your Mouth: This is the intended use of your napkin. Do not use your hand, your sleeve, the dog, or the tablecloth. If no napkin is available, use the tips of your fingers, in as discreet a manner as you can manage. If you are using small bites and avoiding shovel-fork confusion, however, you can probably avoid having to wipe your mouth at all.

f) Eating with your Mouth Open: Jesus H. Christ. Do I have to say anything further? If your nose is stuffed up, and you are unable to breathe through it, do not eat in company for any reason, ever.

g) "I'm Stuffed!": When you say this, it should never be literally true. Your stomach should not be one dinner mint from its detonation point. You are not about to embark on a hunger strike after this meal. Stop eating when you're comfortably satisfied, not when you're trouser-unbucklingly gorged.


GETTING OUT OF AWKWARD SITUATIONS

Waiter, there's a fly in my custard!
Keep your voice down, or everybody will want one!

a) Talking With Your Mouth Full: Ordinarily, this would be something to avoid. However, if a compelling reason to do so arises (for instance: you are chewing a really tough bit of steak, which you won't be able to swallow for ages, and someone's just asked you a question. It would be offensive to answer with your mouth full, but it would be horrendously awkward to sit there chewing and chewing and chewing in the midst of all that silence, with everyone staring at you.)--if a compelling reason to do so arises, there is a definite procedure to be followed. First, tuck the offending morsel into one cheek. Then, turn your head slightly (or, if there are people looking at you from several angles, cover your mouth with your fingertips), and answer as briefly as possible, that conversation might resume. Once you have swallowed, you may elaborate.

b) An Insect (or other unpleasant foreign object) Has Landed In Your Food: If you are at a restaurant, you may simply send your food back. If you're in someone's home, however, you are obliged to pretend you have not seen it. This does not, of course, mean that you must eat the offending material--the usual protocol would involve hiding the affected bite under a stray lettuce leaf and leaving it on your plate. Once, when I was a guest at the home of some family friends, a flea leapt from their dog and landed right in the middle of my potatoes. I scooped out the flea with my salad knife, and ate the rest of my meal with my dinner knife. No-one was any the wiser.

NB: If you are eating outdoors, it is permissible to draw attention to the insect/bird turd/kite/SUV, and laugh at it, once. If it happens again, the joke is now stale.

c) Speaking of Stale: You have been invited to dinner by a friend, at their home or at their favourite restaurant, and are eating food they have prepared for you or recommended to you. The food is, to put it mildly, not to your taste. What do you do? Well, my mother's advice would be to eat the food, eat every bite, and pretend it's lovely. Never, ever do that. They will know you are lying. It may be possible to conceal your distaste for a few bites, but it's impossible to do it for a whole meal. Even if you do pull it off, more fool you: your friend will now feed you that crap at every possible opportunity. The polite thing to do is to eat lightly, so they can see that you're willing to try it, then, if asked, admit that it wasn't quite to your taste. If your friend cannot understand that tastes differ, and that your tastebuds were not being malicious, they have bigger problems than an inability to cook.

d) Food Allergies: Someone has prepared a lovely dinner for you, at great effort and expense. You cannot eat it because everything on it has been touched by parsley, which makes you break out in hives. Don't eat it anyway. You'll get hives, your friend will feel guilty, and no-one will be pleased. All you have to do is apologize, laugh it off, and eat whatever non-parsleyed item you're offered without complaint.

e) Rude Folks: Someone else at the table is being a complete pig. The only thing you can do is attempt to hide your disgust. Avert your eyes, when possible. If you are the host, it is your responsibility to distract people's attention from your trough-guzzling guest.

f) Accidents: You have spilled something on the tablecloth/the carpet/the dog. Oh, no! What will you do? Calm down. It's a wine-spot/potato smudge/gravy disaster. It's not the end of the world. Apologize, do your best to mop it up, and get on with your dinner. If you have upended an entire platter, and a whole side-dish is now unfit for human consumption, you may apologize a little more profusely, but, really, what's done is done. Don't make a production out of it. That dirty shoe isn't coming out of the gazpacho, no matter how sorry you are.


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Posted by Ratty at 04:51 PM
Categories: Reviews and Nerdiness