Dear Etiquetteer:
As someone who loves to cook it surprises me when I encounter people who don't know how to prep or eat certain foods. I watched a coworker try to peel an entire avocado before cutting it in half. (In case you didn't know avocados are much too slippery to peel first and then try to cut) I'm sure there are many who would be completely lost if presented with an entire steamed artichoke, or a soft boiled egg in a cup. (In theory, I know how to eat a soft boiled egg but I've never actually done it.) Same for crustaceans and whole fish.
So I guess my question is, what do you do when presented with unfamiliar foods?
Dear Gustatory:
We learn through experience, and we can't experience what we have yet to encounter. So Etiquetteer encourages you to be compassionate with those who don't yet have your breadth of food experience. They'll get there!
Your query immediately brought to mind poor Julia Roberts in Mystic Pizza*, encountering a full-on lobster at her very first dinner at the home of her boyfriend's parents, with no idea what to do. Her earlier scorn of lobster came back to haunt her! (Etiquetteer prefers not to have to combat a meal, and very much prefers lobster Newburg to the traditional New England lobster served whole.) Etiquetteer wrote about artichokes way back in Volume 1.
Soft-boiled eggs fell out of fashion at some point in the last 60 years; Etiquetteer has never witnessed them in daily life. But it used to be quite a bit of breakfast showmanship to slice off the top of a soft-boiled egg, served in an egg cup. The late Louis XV -- he of "Aprés-moi, le deluge" -- used to be famed for his ability to thwack off the top of his egg with one stroke of his knife. From personal experience, Etiquetteer can report that it's not that simple, and look out for tiny shards of eggshell. All that remains now of the "three-" or "four-minute egg" is the china egg cup. Etiquetteer uses Dear Grandmother's with the coffee service for artificial sweetener packets.
When you have no idea how to eat what's put before you, take your time and observe how everyone else is managing-- "see how folks do," as Willa Cather once said. And if you get something in your mouth that shouldn't be there, like a bit of eggshell or fishbone, subtly transfer it into your hand and park it in your napkin or someplace inconspicuous on the edge of your plate. And bon appétit!
Dear Etiquetteer:
Shrimp tails. What do you do with the inedible tails?
Dear Tailed:
As Marty Feldman so memorably said in Young Frankenstein, "Say nothing. Act casual." And really, that's Perfectly Proper advice for almost any occasion, is it not?
For the record, let Etiquetteer proclaim a preference against tail-on shrimp in every circumstance. Perhaps the only reasons the tails are left on is to save labor in the kitchen. This interesting piece from The Takeout suggests that it could be that, or interest in having a handle to grasp the shrimp. But lots of foods aren't born with handles. Please, let's just strip our shrimp fully and serve. So much easier all around.
Shrimp tails, if you do encounter them, must be disposed of discreetly. That depends on how they're served. If you're standing around at a cocktail party and offered a tray of shrimp cocktail, you may a) leave the tail on your little cocktail plate, b) tuck it out of the way under a centerpiece on a table (don’t get caught!), or c) wrap the shrimp tail in a paper napkin (if you have one) and stuff it into your pocket. If you're seated for a meal, you can a) leave the tails as out of the way as possible on your plate, b) tuck them out of the way on your bread plate or a special bowl provided for the purpose (if any), or c) wrap the shrimp tails in your napkin (you'd better have one anyway) and then leave carefully by your plate when you leave. Aprés-vous, le deluge.
Etiquetteer wishes you much Perfectly Proper enjoyment of tailless shrimp.
*The look on her face at 00:21 in this clip from Mystic Pizza will make you wish you’d listened to your mother more.