EATING ETIQUETTE: WHEN TO EMBARRASS YOURSELF

Eating etiquette is a class thing.

Yep, it’s a class thing right up until you know better.

The difference is between people who grew up with proper eating etiquette and those who recently converted from face-stuffing shovelers.

Both groups have names: one is English People, the other is The Rest Of Us.

I was raised in a family that sat down for dinner together where the main goal was eating everything on your plate.

The dinner motto was ‘Don’t throw it away.’

Extra credit came with learning how to say, “Pass the ketchup,” instead of reaching for it.

The rule was asking, with a “please” at the end, if the ketchup was on the other side of someone else’s plate.

If you reached over anyone’s plate you were open season for a forking.

The unspoken game at the dinner table was arranging things in such a way that someone was going to reach, get forked, then discuss whether or not they deserved it.

My Dad was the Chief Judge and expert fork-man. His rules ruled. No one ever drew blood.

College Dorm Eating Etiquette

I went from the family table one year to a dorm cafeteria the next.

My main memory was eating as much as I wanted, which was too much.

I was in college to wrestle at 177 lbs. Higher education? I wasn’t at Princeton. How hard could it be.

Weight management was the big deal.

I was more than twenty pounds over during fall term and loving it. May I have some more please?

I made weight the whole season with dorm food. How? I tickled my tonsils and vomited to make weight.

By the way, I don’t recommend that to anyone.

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My college food experience wasn’t the same as some Ivy League ‘eating club’ or Cambridge University student dining hall.

By sheer luck I found myself getting toured around the Cambridge by one of King Charles’ tutor’s who happened to be dating my wife’s aunt.

He introduced us to his dining hall. It looked like a church with an elevated platform for professors.

This is one reason some English people have such impeccable manners.

Even a rube would come out that with a new appreciation of eating.

Just to clear your mind when you hear the words ‘English food’, it’s not all based on boiled pig’s knuckle or blood pudding.

Army Mess Hall Eating Etiquette

If you’e never experienced Army boot camp eating, it goes like this:

You march up to the mess hall in formation and stop at the structure that looks like a ladder has been laid sideways on posts.

It’s part of conditioning, this hand over hand down the ladder and back. If you’ve seen playground equipment, then you’ve seen this.

So everyone climbs up and hangs on whether their hands are raw from the last time, or not.

Then you climb the steps to the cafeteria and stand in line with a portioned tray where ‘cooks’ slap food into each area.

After that you sit down and wait for the signal, the signal to start eating.

From sitting at attention, if you can imagine, you hear the whistle and start eating as fast as you can because the next signal you hear means stop eating.

Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, you eat like a savage. It’s not for everyone.

These are not officers, or gentlemen.

Dining Lessons With The Colonel and His Wife

During my Army days in Philadelphia I met tons or people working in a clinic charged with giving everyone in the region their annual physical.

I was the height, weight, blood pressure, eye test, ear test, and cardiogram guy, along with driving the ambulance.

A tall, distinguished, looking man came through one day and we hit it off.

He was a retired colonel living on the Main Line and he invited me out to join him in doing some yard work.

Which turned into a nice lunch where I met his wife.

Together they explained a plan they had: They would host dinners for their friends daughters.

And me.

But first they tuned up my dining manners so the young ladies wouldn’t be offended.

So far, so good.

Mrs. Colonel took the lead and passed on her finishing school memories.

Mr. Colonel, a West Point son of a West Point father, made sure things stayed on track.

“We want the young people to have fun, not like we’re examine them under a microscope.”

My advanced brain heard that and thought, ‘either way, fun or microscope, it won’t matter with the right girl.”

So I practiced, showed interest, then the dinner dates began.

Mrs. Colonel was a kitchen wizard, Mr. Colonel a grand host, and the girls as nervous as a usual blind date.

The planned out script started with drinks, appetizers, dinner, desert, then some private time with the girls on the front porch.

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Me: Is this a regular feature of life out here.

Her: Our parents are concerned that we meet the right person.

Me: How’s that working out?

Her: So boring.

Me: You won’t know the right person unless you meet the wrong people.

Her: Are you a bad boy?

Me: I do my best.

Her: How bad?

Me: I’ll meet you at the train when you come to Center City for a visit.

Her: Are you asking me out on a date?

Me: Do you date bad boys?

Her: Not around here I don’t.

Me: Then I’ll meet you at the train Saturday at four o’clock.

After their parents picked them up, Mr. and Mrs. Colonel wanted to know how it went on the porch.

And I’d tell them.

“These are nice girls who deserve a good life with a partner they love. It’s not me, but we have a date for next Saturday.

“We’ll walk around downtown, get a bite to eat, then I’ll invite them to my apartment.

“When we’re at the front door I’ll say the same thing I told you, that they are nice girls who deserve a good life.

“Then I’ll tell them a good life doesn’t mean screwing the guys their parents set them up with, so we can’t go in.

“After the talk I’ll walk them back to the train and say goodnight.”

Mrs. Colonel studied me like she was taking notes.

I left out the last part at the train:

“If you’re in town next Saturday at four and feeling extra bad, I’ll meet you right here.”

Then I gave them my work phone number. And they called.

The Main Line girls wanted to walk on the wild side, and I said, “Doo do doo do doo do do doo…”

I kept them in the ‘friend zone’ out of respect and pointed out the sort of behavior they should avoid when choosing a partner in life.

“Be honest, be accountable, reliable, dependable, and judicious.”

Why judicious? You don’t need to tell everyone everything all at once.

Be a little mysterious and you’ll find the right one.