Dear Etiquetteer: Recently, my husband and I planned a dinner engagement with friends. The most mutually convenient plan was for us to host a dinner, and I was happy to do so.Under normal circumstances, I typically inquire as to a guest's food allergies or socio-cultural food-related concerns. However, we've dined with these friends on many prior occasions, and they have no such predilections. This time was different. In three separate communications prior to the dinner, the couple repeatedly requested an accounting of my proposed menu. They mentioned that they were "dieting" and wanted to make certain that dinner was "healthy." As I am not the White House chef, nor a professional caterer, I don't make it a habit to pre-approve my menu with my guests. I also don't serve "unhealthy" meals, e.g., fast food, foods I consider to be heavily processed, or foods containing poison, etc. My response to my guests was to acquiesce, provide them with the proposed menu, and go from there. They offered to bring dessert, to which I responded that I had planned only on serving a fat-free hot chocolate in lieu of dessert given their oft-mentioned "diet." My quandary: did I behave in a Perfectly Proper manner? Did they? Should I kindly suggest to them that this is not really very polite on their part and as such, should be refrained from unless an individual is faced with a life-threatening food allergy or an applicable religious conviction? Dear Hostess Fricassee: Well, you certainly were plucked and trussed by your guests! How sad that they seem to value their "diet" more than your generous hospitality. Etiquetteer does understand how important diets are to the people on them, but it’s Beyond Improper to enlist friends to accommodate them that much. As usual in these situations, Etiquetteer would like to serve a Perfectly Proper serving of "shut up and eat!" You were more than accommodating in allowing your guests to vet your menu in advance, so much so that Etiquetteer thinks they took advantage of your friendship. Since it’s never a good idea to tell people they’re rude in so many words, you’ll have to approach this from another angle. Should they, or others, try that in the future, Etiquetteer encourages you to respond "Gosh, I’m probably not going to decide what to cook until that day. Perhaps you should host if that’s going to be a problem." (Some people would call this passive-aggressive; Etiquetteer calls it cagey and astute.)If these "friends" for whom you’ve bent over backwards didn’t send a Lovely Note afterward, Etiquetteer would seriously reevaluate how much you want to cater to them. Dear Etiquetteer: Do I really have to offer to help in the kitchen after dinner? Dear Scullery Shirker: The only thing you have to do after dinner is send a Lovely Note. Of course if your hosts ask you to help, Etiquetteer expects you to do so cheerfully. You’ll also note how lonely it is to sit by yourself in the dining room with everyone else in the kitchen washing up. On the other hand, Etiquetteer has noticed an interesting trend in Middle-Class Homes With No Help (which is to say Middle-Class Homes) for kitchens to become large enough to accommodate guests. This way the hosts can continue to prepare dinner without leaving their guests all alone in the living room. Even Etiquetteer has set up a cozy nook in the kitchen with two armchairs and a cocktail table so company can nibble on hors d’oeuvres and chat while Etiquetteer wrestles with the risotto. This is a far cry from the day when guests never saw the "working" part of a household, and while Etiquetteer sometimes mourns this situation, it certainly does make things easier. Etiquetteer cordially invites you to join the notify list if you would like to know as soon as new columns are posted. Join by sending e-mail to notify <at> etiquetteer.com.
Food Allergies, Vol. 5, Issue 26
Dear Etiquetteer: In the last five years I have developed a strange spectrum of food allergies, from celery (who knew one could even be allergic to something like celery?) to lemon juice, "tree nuts," beef (I can have dairy, just not the cow itself), and more. I read ingredient labels before I purchase anything, and have to instruct waiters very specifically when dining out (no lemon in my water, thank you, I'm allergic). I always have an epi-pen with me, inhalers, Benadryl, all the medications for emergencies. I e-mail an updated "Foods of Death" list before any family gathering, and my sister, for example, prepared two different bowls of pasta salad for a recent celebration: one with celery and mayonnaise, and one without celery, and with Miracle Whip (no lemon juice). But it can get awkward at casual gatherings, when I have to be very selective, and ask questions quietly. On a couple occasions, people have felt bad when I did not eat their refreshments. The worst was a barbecue gathering of people from a professional association we belong to, out in a distant state, where I ended up only able to eat one person’s pasta salad, corn chips and desserts. Hardly a nutritious day, but I explained that one day wouldn’t malnourish me for life, and I wasn’t upset. It was, however, quite awkward. I don’t want to be a diva and demand special treatment from people (except my siblings, who say, "Well, we always knew you were weird!"), but I don’t want people to feel bad either, when they notice that I’m not eating. What’s a person to do? There’s a quandary for Etiquetteer! Dear Allergic: Modern medicine has created so many problems for Society! If you were just dead of undiagnosed allergies people wouldn’t have all the difficulties of feeding guests with restricted diets. On the other hand, you’d be dead, which is Entirely Unacceptable. Etiquetteer sympathizes with you in your plight, which you seem to be handling with dignity and discretion. Etiquetteer applauds your desire not to be a diva; it never gets people very far anyway. But Etiquetteer has to Wag an Admonitory Digit, however, at your hosts. No matter how disappointed they may be that you can’t eat what they’re serving, it’s very bad manners for them to let you see it. There’s nothing you can do about that but change the subject. If they carry on to an unacceptable level, simply say to them what you told Etiquetteer: that you don’t want to be a diva and demand special treatment, and that talking about your diet is rather boring. Do you know what Gloria Swanson used to do? In her later years she became a strict vegetarian and what was known at the time as a "health nut." When she was invited to a dinner party she’d pack her own little sandwich or whatever in her purse and slip it to the butler when she arrived.* It would magically appear on her plate when dinner was served. Now you’ll observe that this only works in a household with servants – it’s so hard to find good help nowadays – but this would work equally well at a potluck like the one you described. Just bring your own. You could also "head ’em off at the pass" by entertaining them in your own home with recipes that accommodate your allergies. Thinking people will put two and two together after a casual reference. *Ethel Merman, on the other hand, was invited to a Passover seder by Jule Styne and brought a ham sandwich. Etiquetteer does notrecommend that approach.
Coffee Service, Vol. 5, Issue 23
Once upon a time it was so easy to offer someone a cup of coffee, but science got in the way. All one needed was coffee, cream, and sugar. Everyone understood this and took as much or as little coffee as they wished. The implements of a Perfectly Proper coffee service became enshrined over time: cup and saucer, spoon, sugar bowl, cream pitcher, and coffee pot. This simple arrangement got complicated by scientific progress and, as always, personal preference. Never mind that personal preference would be used to trump courtesy . . . First science brought us decaffeinated coffee, then artificial sweetener, then a rainbow of artificial sweeteners. Dieters went one step further and began putting milk in their coffee instead of cream; Science accommodated them by creating fat free milk, 1%, 2%, and the Deity of Your Choice only know how many other kinds of milk different from whole milk. Etiquetteer even knows people who prefer powdered milk substitute to real milk. Woe betide anyone offering the simple hospitality of their home who forgets any of these items! Their guests will transform themselves into pursuing Furies, following them from dining room to kitchen to larder looking for the perfect combination of ingredients without which they could not possibly consume a cup of coffee. Engineers, however, have come to the rescue, at least partly. The invention of the two-part percolator saved a great deal of trouble; one can serve fully-leaded coffee on one side and decaf on the other. Etiquetteer's only gripe is that they forgot how to do so in sterling silver. Percolating coffee urns of the 1930s and 1940s were made in silver or chromium to resemble antique coffee urns. The invention of plastic ended that product line, alas, and we are faced with really casual-looking coffee pots drafted into formal service. The service of artificial sweeteners, however, has required more ingenuity on the part of hosts and hostesses. Obviously another serving piece is required, but what to add? Etiquetteer saw a particularly elegant solution at a formal dinner recently. The coffee tray was passed with a silver sugar and creamer and the addition of a small silver urn stuffed with Familiar Pink Packets. This urn was in a different pattern from the other pieces, but it was so clearly Perfectly Proper that Etiquetteer could not endorse it more highly. For everyday service at Etiquetteer’ s house, the china sugar and creamer have been supplemented with a pewter sugar bowl perfectly suited to the size of the Famliar Pink Packets.
Etiquetteer finds the remaining solution in guest behavior modification. Please, if you aren’t offered the dairy or sweetener choices you prefer, make do with what you’re offered! One cup of coffee with cream instead of milk, or Sweet ‘n’ Low instead of Splenda, is not going to wreak your diet.
Dear Etiquetteer: What on earth am I supposed to do with the sugar packet after I’ve emptied it into my coffee? Shouldn’ t we have a little glass or something on the table for that?
Dear Sweetened: Etiquetteer never thought he’d pine for the days of rampant indoor smoking, but the fact is that when ashtrays were still standard features on dining tables, that’s where everyone put their used packets. Nowadays, in the absence of a saucer, people put them almost anywhere unobtrusive: bread plates, under the rim of service plates, even folded neatly and put back in the bowl from which it came. Clever hosts and hostesses draft the slops bowl from their tea service for this purpose, since it has a cover. But Etiquetteer can’t see restaurants doing this across the board. When it’ s just you faced with a bare table, Etiquetteer suggests you roll up the packet into a small ball and slip it into your purse or pocket.
Entertaining, Vol. 4, Issue 44
As long as we’re talking about entertaining, Etiquetteer needs to take this opportunity to sweep away some of the perceived glamour of hosting a party. When most everybody thinks of entertaining at home, they think of cooking, enough matching glasses, guest soaps in the bathroom, what to wear, and (inexplicably) blackening the wicks of candles they don’t intend to light. Let Etiquetteer snatch the veil from your eyes. These days, the most important part of your party may be good directions and enough parking spaces.Etiquetteer definitely laments this turn of events. But let’s face it, that rosy picture of the "old days" when everyone who knew everyone else all lived in the same town or neighborhood was fiction. Nowadays nobody has any idea where they’re going! And there’s not always a place to park once they get there. Can there be any worse way to spoil a party than to have to take phone calls every two minutes from wayward revelers pelting unknown landmarks at you trying to find your home? That Mr. Dimmick Who Thinks He Knows So Much, who doesn’t even own a car, has found this particularly trying since he gets everywhere different from Those Who Drive.Hosts and hostesses, take a tip from Etiquetteer: don’t just send your guests explicit directions and parking information, post them by your own phone so that you’ll have them handy when your guests call. It wouldn’t hurt to have a map of the neighborhood handy, too. This way your party will be less like the Blind leading the Bungled.
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Dear Etiquetteer:When I am at a fancy ball, and I receive gratis drink ticket(s), what is the Perfectly Proper protocol for tipping the bartender/tendress? What if the host has provided an open bar?P.S. Can I tell you that a while back I was at a fancy cocktail party at the rooftop bar of a skyscraper in Montreal, where complimentary drink tickets had been issued prior to the event. When I gave the bartender my order and ticket, he slid his oversized-Cognac-glass tip jar from a side position so that it was directly in front of me. He waited until I dropped a little something into the jar before taking any further action. I thought Americans were supposed to be the rude ones! Needless to say, I skipped my second and third drink that evening. Dear Ticketed:Ah, the ticket bar. Nothing looks cheaper, and yet nothing is more tiresomely necessary when non-profits on a budget, pesky local laws, or militant teetotalers are involved. Etiquetteer knows that sometimes there’s no way around a ticket bar, but that doesn’t make Etiquetteer like it. By all means, when getting a drink at a ticket bar, tip as you would ordinarily at a public bar. At an open bar at a large event, tip as you would ordinarily. At an open bar hosted by a private individual, no tipping should be permitted; it’s the host’s responsibility.Your Canadian bartender exhibited dreadful manners! But Etiquetteer knows he does not represent Canadian bartenders as a whole. Etiquetteer wishes you’d been able to find another bartender to assist you.PS: And that would be "barmaid," by the way, not "bartendress." For Etiquetteer the word "barmaid" conjures images of Dickens and the Scarlet Pimpernel.
Questions of Culinary Presentation, Vol. 4, Issue 17
Dear Etiquetteer: I work in a large office and hand out only wrapped candy. Why? Because there are coworkers who will run their hands through unwrapped candy, who will cough or sneeze on it ? in other words, they cannot help themselves from marking it with their germs. It seems almost unconscious. The challenge is when someone else puts out unwrapped food. How do I politely suggest that it is a bad idea? Of course I either decide that my immune system is up to fighting off the germs or not eat them. Dear Wrapped: Etiquetteer applauds your thoughtfulness in providing wrapped treats for your colleagues and clients. And while acknowledging the purity of your movites, Etiquetteer really must advise that criticizing your colleagues is not going to make a positive impression. Continue to decline politely anything offered that you don't care to eat for whatever reason. Dear Etiquetteer: When I entertain I sometimes want to keep the leftovers for future lunches. How do I handle the guest who either wants additional helpings at the time of the meal or to take some home with her? Last time one of the other guests offered her own leftovers to a hungry guest and suggested that she get seconds of the less expensive side dishes, which saved the day. Dear Pecked Hostess: Good heavens! Are you entertaining friends, family, or a plague of locusts?Asking for a doggie bag in a private home is just beyond the pale, if you ask Etiquetteer. Confronted with the request, however, Etiquetteer thinks it Perfectly Proper to decline with an apology that you need to make the pot roast, lobster bisque, macaroni, or whatever last to next Tuesday. You eliminate the problem altogether when you bring in prepared plates from the kitchen; this way your guests don't see that there's anything left over.
Find yourself at a manners crossroads and don't know where to go? Ask Etiquetteer at query@etiquetteer.com! Etiquetteer cordially invites you to join the notify list if you would like to know as soon as new columns are posted. Join by sending e-mail to notify@etiquetteer.com.
Dear Etiquetteer: I recently hosted a meeting of my book group and provided refreshments that included Brie and crackers. I was astounded when one guest, the friend of a friend of one of our long-time members, used a cracker to slice/scoop up the soft Brie cheese instead of using the knife provided. Her fingers were covered with Brie after she repeated this act a few times and none of the other guests wanted to eat the cheese she had contaminated. I didn't know what to do. At the end of the evening I politely offered her the remaining Brie because she had enjoyed eating it all evening. She was delighted. Also, I had provided each guest with a small plate and napkin. This same guest chose not to use them and popped each Brie-covered cracker directly into her mouth. By the end of the evening her dark slacks were covered with white smears of Brie where she had wiped her hands and she left crumbs all over.I'd appreciate your advice on how I could have handled this situation more pro-actively. This guests' behavior was truly disgusting and distracting. In a few months I'll be asked to host the book group again. HELP! Dear Booked: Oh, beware the friends of friends! Take a tip from Rudyard Kipling, who told the tale in his story 'A Friend's Friend' of how a friend's acquaintance embarrassed himself (and everyone else) with a spectacular display of public drunkenness at a society ball. The Gentlemen had their revenge, however, by decorating his passed-out form with whipped cream, ham-frills, and other Victorian hors d'oeuvres before rolling him up into a carpet and throwing him onto a freight train. Don't you just love the English? They always know how to put one in one's place . . .Brie Woman already seems adept at decorating herself with food, more's the pity, so that approach is out. Really, Etiquetteer doesn't know why you bother; this sort of person is not the sort who understands what Polite Society means, and therefore should not be included. But, on to more practical solutions. Etiquetteer admires the way you finessed disposing of the pillaged Brie. It practically defines 'killing with kindness.' Next time your'e forced to entertain this person, you have Etiquetteer's full permission to say, 'Oh, here's the cheese knife, dear' when you see her aiming a cracker at the cheese; you may even offer to slice it for her. And when she begins wiping her hands on her slacks (ugh! just the thought makes Etiquetteer ill), go right ahead and hand her a napkin saying, 'Oh, don't muss your slacks! Here's a napkin, dear.' Her rejection of your care and attention will only redound on her. As a last resort, you might prepare individual plates of refreshments for each guest, so that everyone has their own delicate morsels to enjoy. It's more work, of course, but at least everyone would feel that their refreshments were safe from Brie Woman's cooties.
