A propos of nothing, really, a beautiful painting, the sitter dignified but cautious. The Maid - George Lambert, 1915 The Art Gallery of New South Wales When you are under my roof, I will look after you and I know you'll help me when I ask, and ask I will. But when friends move a used coffee cup to the kitchen or rummage in my kitchen drawers for a melamine serving spoon when I had every intention of using the Henning Koppel or ask to help with the dishes at midnight after a dinner, I'm dealing either with misplaced bossiness or misplaced guilt. The Spectator is not a mag I regularly read (I’m an old leftie) but one might nearly say that the Dear Mary column comes up with enough good ideas to warrant a subscription. She suggests saying, as you usher friends out the door, "Oh please, leave it, it's fine. We have a lovely old couple who come by in the morning." (And we'll get up on the morrow, when we can, have a cup of tea or two, a massive glass of water and start - loving the opportunity to relive the evening, pick at the wilted salad, and finish off the chocolates.)
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In a re-run of a re-run of Doc Martin, the British comedy series, Martin, having decided he'll take the plunge with headmistress Louisa, invites her to a dinner for two in his kitchen. He's looking glum. I noticed (he must have noticed, hence the glum face) that Louisa is a HKLP. He is possibly contemplating the future ramifications of this.
There are web-sites and Facebook sites on the phenominum of the HKLP - which stands for, quite simply, Holds Knife Like Pen. Why wasn't there someone on the set who could have guided Caroline Catz (Louisa)? But then people of a certain age do hold pens and pencils in a funny way, a claw-like grasp. Now you might be a rugged individualist who holds that you can do what you want with your knife and fork. Fine, I agree with you, but it will say something about you (that you might not like). On another level, indications are that Prince Harry will marry Meghan. (I’ve been a bit hooked on “Suits” - Netflix - wherein I’ve noted the very complex tailoring of the frocks and Meghan’s incredible skinny shins). The New York Post (October, 2017) asked around for comments from various professional “royal” writers and observers. They report that Prince Harry has been Meghan’s main mentor in all things royal and she is “studying hard” to fit into the lifestyle. "American manners are different than (sic) British manners. One can’t walk down the street eating or chewing gum. Markle will even have to correct her table manners. We hold our cutlery differently. It’s a whole different culture.” Manners and etiquette? Manners are nothing more than decency and consideration. (Punctuality - you consider someone-else's time as important as yours. Chewing with your mouth closed hides a nauseating mash.) Etiquette is more complex and variable, adhering to certain rituals which none the less are based, most often, on making interaction more pleasant. Do we guide children to put their best face forward or just abandon them to their boxed pineapple pizzas and their pot noodles? Warning - some images may offend. Jicky tries to help but can't get the hang of the napkins. (Jicky - named after the Guerlain scent worn by Jean Cocteau and Colette, both of whom loved cats.) "More people are hurt by starvation, hunger, verbal abuse and domestic violence than cats and the love they allow us to lavish on them." quote from yours truly - CK I'm not good at casual but this is set modestly for a Friday meal with friends - only one wine glass and simple cutlery. Plate - A whole blog could be given over to this beautiful service. Czech pre-1938. (Eichwalder Prozellan). The Jewish owners were "sent away" and the business placed under German administration. I would love to know more (& replace a plate). Usual Christofle silver-plate. Glass, modest, (believed Belgium) from Izzi &Popo, fabulous Melbourne shop, sadly no more. Mini soup tureens for S&P (Pillivuyt) Salt spoons, silver Birmingham 1910 (Hobart Salamanca market stall) Red Hawaiin volcanic salt (tastes like salt!) & freshly ground pepper. Red bottomed glass (pair) - present from Meryl, from china. I like to intersperse them with others. Linen napkin (12) from, antique shop, Place des Vosges, Paris. Portes-couteaux (knife rests) from a vast "brocantes", held in a farmer's field, outside Bordeaux. Cheap, cheap, cheap and one is chipped on a corner (so I smoothed it over with several layers of clear nail varnish). The next morning, in the cold, harsh light of day - not pretty but I've seen worse. The caption to this could be... "Between the dream and the reality falls the shadow" - T.S. Elliott (The Hollow Men) Or "Après moi, le déluge" attributed to Louis XV -Tired so I didn't co-ordinate the post-prandial cups well - black & gold over the-top-cups for tisane (c. 1955 Foley Bone China) and Susie Cooper (c.1970 Wedgwood Corn Poppy) for coffee. The teapot by Heinrich Löffelhard, follows the Wagenfeld Bauhaus design. Central filter removed, it's filled with lemon verbena leaves from the garden. The plates are Sarguemines majolica (c. 1935). My mother loathed them and as a child, I adored the realistic leaves, apples and pears.
I have lunch in town with a friend just returned from taking a tour to Southern Italy. A sad sight - five men at lunch (business meeting?) awkward, staring ahead, as they have their napkins placed on their laps. They look uncomfortable and probably are. They don’t want this fiddling about their person but are embarrassed to say so or cause a fuss. It’s too late to stop this fairly recent custom, (unless you grab the napkin as you sit down and handle it yourself). But it’s interesting to consider where it came from. European households use napkins in daily life. People grow up using them, indeed becoming reliant on them, needing them. European restaurants do not “lap” their guests. I ask Rosa whether the insidious “lapping” has crept into Italy. “No way! They’d get slapped!” The poshest restaurant I ever went to (L’Ambroisie, place des Vosges, Paris) does not “lap”. Unfortunately, it will start to happen as restaurants and cafés need to accommodate the American and Anglo-Saxon tourists who do not have daily napkin experience. (And here, with families having finger-friendly dinners in front of the TV, casualness calls for no napkins even as the need for them grows.) So waiters, faced with nowhere to place your food because the napkin is still in place, decide they have to do it for you. Let’s rise up and stamp this out. Start a movement. Grow up, I say. Claim your space. Take your napkin (unless of course you like your lap fiddled with). A wine writer came to dinner one evening and certainly brought a generous selection of wine. (He'd just finished a wine-tasting.) He scoffed at my wine glasses. I held myself in check and did not mention that when we visited him, he was still chopping when we arrived, spent most of the evening in the kitchen (stir-fry is difficult for 10) and gave me a paper napkin. Getting together is first about being with friends (a stranger is a friend you don't yet know - 1970's hippie adage), then about the fun of the accoutrements and the food. It's not a wine-tasting. At left, a small (very small) selection from C. who doesn't think he could chose just one glass. I love the coloured stems, the custard cups (middle RHS) and (Wow!) the Germanic roemer riesling glasses with amber stems (Riedal, just calm down!) Nothing Fancy - just pumpkin soup is fine. In a rare show of wit, Ronald Reagan said that the nine scariest words in the English language were “I’m from the government and I’m here to help.” For Gore Vidal, the three scariest words were “Joyce Carol Oates”. (Not a fan of her novels, I guess.) For Seinfeld's friend George, "We have to talk". My heart sinks when someone says, “You must come to dinner”. What is being said here? Am I naughty that I have neglected to come to dinner? Surely I can only come if I’m invited. Am I expected to turn up, a bottle of Shiraz under my arm, next Wednesday? Do I knock on the door and say I’ve come to remedy my lack of manners. I'm here for dinner. Hope I'm not late. Why do people say this? Might it be better to say “I’ll ring you during the week to make a time for you to come over. Haven’t had a good chat in ages.” “You must come to dinner.” Stop saying this. Is it my fault or yours? Jamie Oliver can do no wrong, in my opinion, but what's with the 15 minute meals? I understand what he's trying to do - get us all cooking - but why encourage the idea that it's all too hard and takes too long. This is your body, your family, your friends, your pleasure we're talking about. Get into your car and drive to the gym. Get changed and participate in an hour's pilates class. Shower, dress, have a foul tasting health drink, get in the car and drive home. What's that? An hour and a half? But we can only give 15 minutes of our "hectic" lives to prepare a meal to eat with others (or on our own, self-celebrating). Stressed? I suggest winding down over a chopping board to prepare a meal, taking it very slowly. (Involve the household, if you'd prefer company - peeling the parsnips, washing the salad, setting the table.) Don't look at the clock, eat when you're ready. How long do you spend? Love receiving flowers, yes? (Not everyone. To an African friend (Ghana) they represent death in the house and an insult.) But what do you do when someone comes to dinner with a huge bunch of gorgeous flowers and you are in the middle of introducing everyone to each other, of making sure they have a drink and their bags are carefully stowed and the nuts are being passed around? Flowers can be a bloody nuisance. Do you stop, pull out the step ladder, reach for a vase, find the secateurs to trim the ends in the back shed, then clear a spot in the kitchen to arrange the flowers, ignoring everything else that’s going on? An old French book on “le savoir-vivre” suggests one should never bring flowers. One should of course send them before or after the event when the hostess or better still the housemaid can receive them, and at leisure, arrange them. Life doesn’t work like that for most of us. But what to do? Who wants to knock back flowers? Hint / Life Hack If you’re the giver, a just-opened rose from your garden picked on the way out is fine but keep the florist bunches for occasions other than lunch, party or dinner (or bring flowers already arranged in a planter or pot). If you’re the receiver, make a bucket in the laundry part of your party preparations. If flowers arrive, admire them, thank the giver effusively and say “I’m looking forward to arranging these properly tomorrow.” Take the flowers away and put them in water in the bucket. The following day, take your time to arrange them beautifully. Take a photograph of them on your phone and send this to the giver with a nice note. How do you handle flowers?
In the Trobriand Islands (North East of New Guinea) there’s a tabu against eating with or in front of others, even family or friends. Anthropologists have failed to find a reason why.
We take it for granted that we mark special occasions by eating with others, often with special foods to mark the occasion. Think of births, deaths, weddings, arrivals, departures, engagements, birthdays, christenings, bar or bat mitzvahs, religious holidays. We eat with people we’re close to (family, friends), we eat with people we’d like to get close to (from romantic dinners to the business lunch). So where to now? How do you keep in touch or forge new friendships? A coffee, breakfast, standing around at an art opening with a warm Chardonnay? Do we still share a table (both formal or informal)? |
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