Rogov's Ramblings
Good Manners

 

I love everything that's old: old friends, old times,
old manners, old books, old wine.
Oliver Goldsmith, 1764

Craig Claiborne and Robert Courtine are both concerned that we live in a world where fewer and fewer people know how to behave politely, especially at the dinner table. Neither Claiborne nor Courtine are snobs. Claiborne, who served for more than thirty five years as the food editor of the New York times, is such a fun loving character that in 1982 when he published his autobiography, "A Feast Made For Laughter" he took as much pleasure in presenting an absolutely abominable recipe for curried sweetbreads with fettucine as he did in admitting that, as a child, he had been sexual- ly molested by his father. Courtine, who for nearly forty years was the respected restaurant critic of Le Monde enjoyed his work so much that he once devoted an entire year to setting traps for the greatest chefs of Europe (checking, for example to see whether the tomatoes in his salad had been peeled, or whether his crepes suzettes had been made with orange peel instead of tangerine peel).

Despite their ability to laugh at the world and at themselves, both concur that we now live in a society in which too many people believe that good manners have no longer have a place in the order of things. They also agree that in a already difficult-enough world, politeness and good manners can make life much more tolerable. Both also felt the need to write books about the subject. Based on their lifetimes of experiences as guests and hosts, their books do not present a litany of rigid rules, nor do they dwell on such obscure occasions as the ultra-formal, seventeen-course dinner.

Courtine's concerns are primarily with dining in restaurants. Upset by the behavior he has frequently seen in public places he writes that "because they do not know what is expected of them, many of the people who go to restaurants today behave in exactly the same fashion as the baboons at the Paris zoo". Claiborne is more concerned about the behavior of both hosts and guests at private parties. Happily, unlike many who have written about manners earlier, neither of these authors mourns those days in which every dinner was formal, where seventeen courses were served and when the men went to a separate room to smoke their cigars after the meal. Both are relieved to be spared the stuffy exchanges that typified social events of that earlier age, and both refer, instead, to manners and public behavior, which like good taste, derive from sensibility and simple common sense. Their rules are not so much intended to support outmoded notions of formality but to keep us from embarrassing ourselves, for, as Claiborne writes: "we may live in a time when nearly anything goes, but there are still head waiters, waiters, and hosts and hostesses who will justifiably frown if we break too many of the rules of etiquette at the dinner table".

Dining Out

In order to make the point that knowledge of manners can make life easier, Courtine recounts the story of American author Mark Twain. Once, when asked to tell about the most embarrassing of his experiences, Twain told of the time when he was "confronted by a table set with so many knives and forks of so many different sizes and shapes that it was impossible to decide what fork to use for this, what knife to use for that. At that moment", Twain said, "I knew for a certainty that everyone in that luxurious establishment - the head waiter, the chef, even the lowly dish-washer - was superior to me. It was more than humiliating - it made me feel the complete fool."

Twain would have felt far more at ease, Courtine tells us, if he knew that with silverware it is always appropriate to start by using the knife, fork, or spoon furthest away from the plate for the first course and then working one's way in, so that when the final course is served, only the knife and fork nearest the plate are still in place. Life would probably also been easier for Twain had he known that the utensils set above the plate are invariably meant for desserts.

If one errs and uses the wrong utensil, agree both Courtine and Claiborne, there is no need to be embarrassed. If the error is realized during dining, one should simply place the offending fork at the edge of the plate and continue with the correct one. Later, when it becomes apparent that a knife or fork for one of the courses is missing, the waiter will automatically replace it. If the waiter overlooks the fact that a piece of silver is missing, it is appropriate to quietly call this fact to his attention. In fact, this is one of the few opportunities any of us have to feel superior to a waiter in an expensive restaurant.

The rules of etiquette are equally clear about a piece of silver that falls to the floor. In an inexpensive eatery, simply bend over, pick it up and signal to the waiter to replace it. In more luxurious restaurants it is considered proper to let the waiter pick it up. One need not worry about incurring the waiter's anger because waiters respect clients who know the rules of the game.

Another potential problem area comes up when a dish is served and you suddenly realize that you don't have the foggiest idea of how to eat it. Simple enough, says Courtine: "Watch carefully to see if anyone else knows how to attack the dish in question and then, learning by observing, simply do what that person does. If no one at your table knows how to deal with a certain dish, simply ask the waiter to explain it. He will be delighted at such an opportunity to show off his sophistication.

Nor is there reason to feel uncomfortable if something goes wrong during dining. Wine spills, tablecloths become stained and food that was intended for the mouth sometimes winds upon the lap. That is simply the nature of things and there is no reason for tears, hysteria or self-recrimination. When taken too seriously, such incidents can spoil one's pleasure. Taken in stride, they can make for amusing but pleasant memories.

If a few drops of red wine wind up on our white skirts or shirts, there is no need for panic. There is not even a need to discontinue the conversation that was taking place. All that is necessary is to take the salt shaker, sprinkle the offending stain with salt and then gently rub off the salt with a napkin. This ensures that the wine will not leave a permanent stain. And, if the process receives odd glances from our dinner companions, an explanation will leave them marveling over our savoir-faire. If it is gravy that falls onto our clothing, one need merely dip a corner of a napkin into the water glass and with this gently rub away the offending spot. The waiter should then be asked to replace both the glass and the napkin. As Courtine explains "when an accident does occur, the most vulgar thing a diner can do is to explain to all and sundry present how clumsy he or she is. An accident never makes one look foolish. It takes our big mouths to do that".

What, as if happened to essayist Joseph Wechsberg, an entire bottle of wine winds up in our lap? Wechsberg was dining in a crowded trattoria in Rome when a waiter fell and spilled a full bottle of red Barolo wine all over the trousers of his new gray suit. The writer was drenched to the skin from the waist downwards.

Such situations are uncomfortable, but in Wechsberg's case the owner of the place rushed up, seized hold of him and hurried him to the kitchen, where he asked him to remove his trousers. Then, with a large tablecloth tied around his waist, Wechsberg returned to his table and feasted on spaghetti alla carbonara. As a peace offering the owner presented him with a complimentary bottle of the finest Barolo he had in his cellar. Finally, Wechsberg was re- quested to return to the kitchen where he found his trousers dry cleaned and pressed. Because Wechsberg took the incident in stride, nobody became overly upset. Wechsberg had realized an important truth - keeping one's cool is the epitome of good manners.

Few moments need be truly awkward. If there is a fly or a hair in the soup, simply ask the waiter to take it back. One will, however, do well to remember George Orwell's suggestion that "wisdom dictates that you ask for a different kind of soup as a replacement because otherwise most waiters will simply remove the offending object, wait a few seconds and return the same dish to the table".

What happens when you are served food or wine that you judge to be unpalatable? By all means, ask that it be replaced, but never after you've eaten a third or more of what is on the plate. If, as sometimes happens, the proprietor of the restaurant insists that there is nothing wrong with the dish you wish to replace, do as Oscar Wilde did: invite him to take a seat at your table and ask him to finish the dish for you. This invariably gets results, for even the most hardened restaurant owner will be hard pressed to sit down to a rancid steak or a too salty vichyssoise.

Even the best of food sometimes serves as a source of confusion. Here too, however, the rules are based on common sense. Even in the most posh restaurants it is perfectly acceptable to use the fingers to finish off lamb chops, ribs, chicken bones and shell- fish. And, because good sauces are often the greatest pride of chefs, it is always appropriate to use bread to mop up whatever sauce remains on one's diner plate. As a rule of thumb, in inexpensive places, take a small piece of bread in hand, dip it in the sauce, and eat it. In truly fine restaurants, unless you have already earned a reputation for being an eccentric, it is considered proper to break the bread by hand, place it on the plate and spear it with a fork to pick up the gravy. It is never appropriate, however, in anything but the lowest priced restaurants, to lick one's fingers.

Even the end of dinner offers opportunities for embarrassment. When you have finished dining, for example, it is considered gauche to make a ceremony of folding the napkin. It should be crumbled neatly while still on the lap and then placed on the left side of one's service.

Finger bowls also provide a source of confusion to many. One of Queen Victoria's dinner quests, unfamiliar with formal etiquette, drank the water in his finger bowl. The Queen, to make sure her guest was not dishonored, followed suit and drank from her own bowl as well. If a finger bowl is presented, one should simply dip the tips of the fingers in the bowl, barely touching the lemon slice that is floating there, and then dry the fingers on the napkin. In truly fine restaurants, finger bowls are presented after the main course and before the dessert, and fresh napkins will be supplied when the bowls are cleared away.

On leaving the restaurant, many restaurant owners have the habit of asking departing guests whether they enjoyed their meals. Both Claiborne and Courtine agree that this question is primarily rhetorical. As when someone asks "How are you?", they do not expect a full report of your health or economic well being, restaurateurs do not generally expect a detailed answer to their question. Courtine says that "unless you are a well known food critic, a regular habitue of the establishment or a personal friend of the owner, the most polite thing to do (and the best way to avoid an unnecessary and prolonged discussion) is to say that everything was fine. Whether you ever come back to this restaurant again or not is entirely up to you.

Entertaining at Home

To Craig Claiborne, entertaining well is the epitome of hospitality and good manners are first called upon when you receive an invitation to dine. It is polite, for example, to answer invitations promptly, and not to wait to see if something more to your preference comes up. Similarly, because your host or hostess has gone to a great deal of trouble to prepare a meal that will be ready at a given hour, it is polite to arrive on time. According to Claiborne, "the time to arrive is the time stated, with a possible ten to fifteen minute grace period". Keep in mind as well that accepting an invitation means that you will stay for the entire meal, from cocktails to coffee, and not jumping up after one or two courses, blowing a kiss to your host and dashing off to a next engagement. Claiborne realizes that there are times when one is forced to cancel an acceptance at the last minute. "Illness or family misfortune are valid reasons, but when you call to apologize, never give the caddish excuse that `something else has come up'".

As to bringing gifts, Claiborne feels strongly that guests are never required to bring anything at all "except for their own good company". If you do bring a gift, remember that gifts of food can upset a host's carefully planned menu, and that flowers may send a host off on a search for a vase just when he wants to be with his guests. Those people who bring a bottle of wine should not expect that it will be served with the dinner. "A host is never obligated to serve a gift of food or drink" says Claiborne, "and a guest is never justified in feeling slighted if his does not appear on the dinner table". The host, may, how- ever, serve the wine if he deems it compatible with the menu. If not, he should politely thank the guest, telling him how very much he is looking forward to enjoying it in the near future. Guests should never insist.

Claiborne also asks some truly difficult questions. What, for example should a guest do if he is pointedly insulted by another guest? Is an offended guest ever in the right to walk out of a dinner? His answers are to the point. "The premise of socializing is that everyone is a friend of the host and that the peace of his home will not be violated. If an insult is so great that it is truly unbearable, and in the absence of a duel at dawn, the only action a guest may take is to remove himself from the proceedings with apologies to his host and the other guests".

Few dinners end in true catastrophe, but many are packed with the kinds of mini-confusions that can spoil an otherwise fine evening. Following are several of Claiborne's general rules for overcoming some of the most common problems one can encounter at a dinner party.

- If you have forgotten the name of the person sitting next to you, do not hesitate to say "There was a bit too much noise when we were introduced. Would you tell me your name again".

- Should a guest be faced with an unfamiliar food that is not appealing or one that is high on his list of dietary taboos, he can maintain his poise by taking a very small portion, or by declining, but without a long-winded explanation or a descent into coyness.

- Among the greatest sins one can commit Claiborne lists: stuffing the mouth with food; speaking with a mouth still full of food; using a knife or fork to clean one's fingernails; and cleaning one's teeth in public, "for each of these acts reveals you as a barbarian who should not have been invited to dinner in the first place".

- Either at someone's home or in a restaurant, when diners have finished all they want of a certain course they should place their knife and fork in the center of the plate, parallel and close together. Guests should never play with the remaining food on their plate, nor should they push their plate away from them, because both are discourteous gestures, the first indicating boredom and the second disgust.

Here, from two men who have devoted their lives to fine food and fine dining, are two books that give sensible, sophisticated advice on table manners for anyone who would like to feel more confident and graceful at any meal, whether as host or guest, at home or in a restaurant, with family, friends or strangers.

Elements of Etiquette: A Guide to Table Manners in An Imperfect World
by Craig Claiborne.
New York, William Morrow & Co. 132 pp. $15.00.

Manners and Mannerisms: Rules for Dining in Civilized Company
by Robert Courtine.
London, Sidgwick & Jackson. 148 pp. 12.95 Sterling.

At Private Parties and at Restaurants A Guide For The Perplexed

A Whiff of Fragrance:

The billion-dollar perfume and cologne industry promotes the use of expensive scents as part of our "lifestyle". Despite this, let it be said that both men and women wearing fragrances run the risk of being a miserable distraction to their dinner partners and an affront to those who are serious about their food. A discreet touch of perfume or after-shave is acceptable, but it should not be apparent to those sitting near you.

Seating:

Every guest at a party should have a comfortable seat. This is an absolute necessity, and as true for a buffet for forty as a cozy diner for six. It is simply bad manners to assume that your guests will enjoy perching on sofa armrests or worst yet, standing up during a buffet meal. If you do not have enough chairs and cannot borrow what you need, consider renting them - or trimming your guest list.

Special Diets:

You are invited to dinner at a new friend's home for the first time and are faced with a quandary: Not only are you a vegetarian, but your husband is allergic to all cheeses. Should you share this information with your hosts beforehand, or should you take your chances with her menu? Craig Claiborne emphatically re- commends honesty, because it is truly discourteous to allow your host to go to the trouble of preparing foods that have every chance of being eaten. It is far better, and not at all offensive, to accept the invitation by saying, "Of course we would love to come, but please let me tell you about our special food situation, so that you can decide if we will fit in with your plans". A host who knows in advance cam, with grace and skill, adjust the menu to fit everyone's needs.

Music:

There is no right or wrong decision about having background music in a restaurant or at a dinner party. Dining is an exceedingly sensory pleasure, so it is important to calculate the effect that music will create. Consider your guests' preferences as well as your own. Low, gentle classical music is a judicious choice: loud rock music is odious unless you are serving frankfurters and hamburgers. Whatever your choice, keep the sound at a civilized level so that a chance for conversation still exists.

Compliments and Criticisms:

There is an art to giving compliments and to receiving them. The guest who expresses his admiration for his host's efforts with a light touch is the most believable, whereas the guest who gushes becomes tedious. Restrain yourself from overblown comments such as "This is the best meal I have ever had", to more relevant compliments such as "The meat in these crab cakes is delicious. Is it the first of the season?"

Hosts should not look for compliments. Never ask a guest "Did you enjoy the food". If he did, he should tell you without being asked. If not, politeness would forbid him to say so anyway.

One should never criticize, draw attention to or make fun of the eating habits of others in public. If you feel it is absolutely necessary to criticize friends of family, do so in private. It is particularly tiresome to hear spouses and friends chiding one another at table. Admonitions such as "You're going to gain five kilos if you have even one more bite" or "Remember your cholesterol" do not endear anyone to the hard-working chef or host, whose fondest hope is to see their food appreciated.

Public Grooming:

Applying makeup at the table is in the worst possible taste. The dining table is not a hair salon or massage parlor, so guests who eed to "fix" their hair or makeup are advised to retire to the nearest bathroom. There they may run their hands through their hair, crack their knuckles, and brush their jackets before returning to the table.

Cleaning the Teeth:

In nearly all American and European countries it is considered in the poorest of taste to clean one's teeth in public. It is never acceptable to use any object - toothpicks, the tines of a fork, matchbook covers, dental floss, a piece of jewelry, to remove something irksome from the teeth. The proper place to do this is in the washroom.

Using a Napkin:

The right moment to place a napkin on the lap is immediately after sitting down at the table, not when food arrives. The only exception is at a very formal dinner, when guests wait for the hostess to position hers before unfolding theirs. To place a napkin on your lap, simply unfold it. Do not whip it around like a flag at a racetrack.

If during dinner you need to excuse yourself from the table for any reason, place the napkin gently to the left of your dinner plate. Do not refold it or throw it in a heap on a chair like dirty laundry. If your plate has been removed, leave the napkin on the table in front of you. Make sure that all of the visible parts of the napkin are clean, that is to say, not soiled with food or stained with lipstick.

One should always wipe their mouth with their napkin before speaking or if they feel food on their face. The proper way is to dab a napkin or tissue to the lips and corners of the mouth. Do not wipe or scrub with unseemly vigor.

If you notice that the rim of your glass is obviously stained with food or wine, wipe away the offending marks with your napkin as casually as possible.

Even in the case of an unexpected dribble, never wipe your face with the back or front of your hand.

If your napkin falls on the floor the waiter should be observant enough to pick it up an replace it. If this is not the case, however, it is perfectly acceptable to lean over unobtrusively and retrieve it oneself.

At the end of a meal, if all the dishes from your place setting have been removed, casually put your napkin - unfolded- on the table directly in front of you If a dessert plate remains in front of you, place your unfolded napkin to the right of it.

The only time to tuck a napkin into a shirt front is when you are a guest at a crab feast or picnic. It is never proper at any occasion more formal.

Proposing Toasts:

A toast, either to life or to one of the people at the table, may be offered during any course of a meal, but the best times for making toasts are just before the meal begins or after the dessert course. If you are making a toast it is appropriate to tap on the wineglass to get everyone's attention. Serving should be suspended while a toast is being spoken.

The person offering a toast should rise; he does not have to be holding his wineglass. At a formal gathering everyone but the person being toasted should rise. At the end of the toast maker's words, guests should raise their glasses, then take a small sip of wine. The person being honored does not join in that first sip of wine, but waits until others are finished with the toast.

If you do not drink, it is perfectly appropriate to raise an empty glass, a glass of water or a soft drink.

The clinking together of glasses at a toast should be done only by lovers. It is considered passe for everyone to clink glasses with every other person at the table. Such group clinking is clumsy and also winds up with a great many broken glasses.

Sunglasses:

The affectation of wearing sunglasses indoors probably started in Hollywood, and has now spread to New York, Tokyo and Tel Aviv. Unless it is for legitimate medical reasons, this is a ridiculous and pretentious habit.

Cellular Telephones:

Either at restaurants or at someone's home, beepers and cellular phones are terribly out of place unless your are a police detective on duty or a doctor on call.

Relating to the Restaurant or Catering Staff:

Regardless of the level of service do not treat staff as if they were your personal servants or slaves. Be respectful but not condescending. Do not summon a waiter with a clap or the hand or a wave. Employ a subtle nod of the head or attempt to make eye contact. If these gestures are insufficient for receiving attention, voice a soft and modest verbal request "Excuse me, would you mind..."

You may shake hands with and exchange a few words with restaurant staff members if you are a regular client. Long conversations are not appropriate.

Neighbors:

It is not proper to eavesdrop or interrupt the conversation of those sitting at an table other than your own. It is bad taste to advise your neighbors on what to order.

Leftovers:

Many restaurants willingly wrap extra portions with heavy foil but it is improper to ask for the leftovers in a grand luxe restaurant.

Compliments to the Chef:

If your meal has been especially successful, it is perfectly reasonable to request the chef to appear after the meal. Many diners like to express their appreciation personally A comment to your waiter should suffice to make your wishes known. The host or guest of honor should greet the chef, preferably with a handshake and introduce him or her to the other guest. Any further exchange however delightful, should be brief so the chef can return to his work and the diners to their dinner.

© Daniel Rogov

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