As we move from one generation to the next, the socialisation of children regarding what we often refer to a ‘table manners’ tends to be carried out by mums more than dads; and maybe this is a good thing, as the dining habits of men throughout the centuries have been rather appalling. For example, in 16th century France, when men were still firmly in charge of dining rituals, chamber pots were brought in by servants and placed in the appropriate locations under each chair after the last course at a dinner party, so guests could enjoy an after dinner poop without leaving the table.
And the Monty Python skit involving Mr Creosote, who vomits one meal after another into a bucket until he eventually explodes, spraying his innards all over a fine dining French restaurant, would not have been entirely out of the question during this period – the vomiting into a bucket I mean. The exploding bit would have been inappropriate in just about any era I’m aware of.
Over the next three centuries, many dining behaviours that we would now consider obviously inappropriate and just plain gross were gradually eliminated in the interest of what we now call good table manners. One by one, though not necessarily in this order, the following actions were banned from the dining table: blowing your nose on your shirt, spitting (with no particular target in mind), chewing with your mouth open, putting fingers in your mouth, burping, farting, and grabbing food off another person’s plate.
The use of cutlery and tableware also gradually emerged into the dining ritual over several centuries. Something as seemingly rudimentary as a spoon and a bowl began being used in the 16th century. Initially, it was one spoon and one bowl for the entire table. Diners took turns eating out of a common bowl with a common spoon. Eventually, each diner got their own spoon, and by the end of the 16th century, every person sitting at the table had their own bowl as well.
Sometime over the course of the 17th and 18th centuries – the exact timeline varies from one source to another and from one country to the next – the knife and fork were introduced into the mix. The ‘modern’ notion of using a fork, knife and spoon to eat food off of a plate or out of a bowl was firmly established by mid-19th century, starting in metropolitan areas among the upper classes and spreading to more rural areas and lower classes.
By the turn of the 19th century there were a variety of forks and spoons for specific purposes. Forks alone became almost comically specialised. You had to know the difference between a seafood fork, cold-meat fork, berry fork, cheese fork, fish fork, game fork, cake fork, oyster fork, pickle fork, pie fork, relish fork, and a sardine fork, which for some reason was considered distinct from the fish fork. The ‘modern’ notion of using a fork, knife and spoon to eat food off of a plate or out of a bowl was firmly established by mid-19th century.
This proliferation of flatware was, in part, a way to identify one’s social class, an aspect of dining behaviour that still persists today. Social class is the demographic variable that comes to mind when we think of individual differences in table manners. The further up the social ladder you go, the more things tend to become rather prim and proper at the dinner table. There are more rules and regulations, more requests and courtesies, more pieces of cutlery to use, more glasses, bowls and plates to negotiate – eating, no, taking a meal – is just a much more complicated process in upper class homes. And indeed, many of the more complicated aspects of formal dining were originally created for the purpose of distinguishing guests of ‘good social stock’ from ‘pretenders to the crown’. If you caught somebody using the wrong fork, you knew they were ‘nouveau riche’ from the merchant class.
We’ve all been at that first formal event in high society, perhaps because we’ve won an award or received some honour, where we were faced with the prospect of four forks and spoons on either side of our plate. There’s that moment of social terror for those of us used to only one fork and spoon – what do I do?!? How am I supposed to use all this stuff? Eventually, we all hit on the idea of engaging in brisk conversation while furtively watching the other, presumably more experienced, diners use their cutlery. But the initial terror is there, and in some cases an experienced formal diner who suspects a novice is sitting at the table might take perverse delight at watching the newbie squirm with uncertainty.
But given our discussion from the previous chapter, we shouldn’t be surprised that another demographic variable – gender – influences how one eats. Indeed, one of the cultural stereotypes about husbands running the kitchen is that formality, table manners, and general civilised behaviour will spiral into decline. Would kitchens and dining rooms run by husbands really descend back into the world of vomiting into buckets and pooping into chamber pots? Not likely. But there is some evidence that men are, and historically have been, sloppier eaters.
For example, double dipping, or reintroducing an already bitten or nibbled food item to a communal dish or bowl, officially became unacceptable as a dining practice sometime during the Medieval Period. In that age meals were served on the dining surface in a single bowl or plate, and diners simply used a ladle or fork to eat from the communal serving vessel. At some point it became inappropriate to bite from the same fork that would be reintroduced into the communal bowl or to slurp from the ladle with a same destiny. One needed to use a second implement to eat from. Indeed, forks were originally introduced for the sole purpose of removing food from the communal bowl. The food was them stabbed with a knife and the diner took bites from the knife, never the fork.
The double dipping rule is still loosely in effect today, but the word loosely is vital to understanding the different mentalities of men and women at the dinner table. The now immortal television ad for Kraft Cheese Spread illustrates this difference nicely. In it, the entire family is watching the telly while eating Cheese Spread and crackers. The sound effects indicate that they are watching more of a ‘chick flick’ than what the father and son would prefer. Then the son calls out “Dad double dipped”, to which the disgusted daughter winces “Nice one! You’re completely gross! I can’t believe you did that!” and leaves the room. The mother adopts a similarly menacing expression before also leaving the room.
Then the joke. Dad didn’t really double dip. It’s a routine he and his son have concocted to gross out the women of the family and gain control of the telly, which is promptly switched to the footy after the women have vacated the premises. But now the real question. Could the women of the household gross out the men in the same way? Would the men even care, or would the eating just continue unabated?
