The Cairns Post

Time to elbow aside dated styles of etiquette, please

- Angela Mollard angelamoll­ard@gmail.com twitter.com/angelamoll­ard

Can anyone tell me why it’s rude to put your elbows on the table? I mean, they’re elbows. They have no purpose other than to provide a point of articulati­on between the upper arm and the forearm. Surely, they’re made for leaning on. Particular­ly at a table when your dining companions are total bores.

But, no, as my former husband insisted to our children, they were not to rest their elbows on the table. He is British. He calls dinner “supper” and his dad went to Eton College where Prince William was educated. Naturally, I deferred to him on matters of etiquette.

The kids are grown up now and along with excellent elbow management their general table manners are exemplary. If you were to offer them a meal, I’m fairly confident they’d sit up straight, wait for everyone else to be seated before they start eating, and place their knife and fork together across their plate to indicate when they’ve finished. I say “fairly” because kids go rogue when free from a parent’s watchful eye.

Am I proud? Boastful even? Producing offspring with manners is clearly a reflection of superior parenting right?

Frankly, I couldn’t give a flying fork. Because despite dementedly schooling my children on cutlery protocol, napkin placement, plate positionin­g, condiment passing and speaking with your mouth full, I now know there is only one table manner that genuinely matters.

Now while you rack your brains as to what that might be – no, it’s not the “three second” rule or banning phones at the table – I should explain that I’m currently pondering dining etiquette because younger

Actually sit down at the table and … be interested

generation­s think table manners are “irrelevant”.

In news which will cause distress to soup spoons and potentiall­y leave napkins re-traumatise­d after being overlooked for serviettes, 60 per cent of those aged between 12 and 27 believe traditiona­l manners are not important, with 77 per cent “not caring” about cutlery politics. Likewise, the poll by Censuswide showed Gen Z don’t care if someone takes a phone call or texts at the table and they’re happy to tuck in rather than wait for everyone to start eating at the same time.

As the proud owner of a set of vintage silver cake forks, you’d think I’d be a stickler for table manners. But even I can see that in an era when we feed babies straight from plastic pouches and teens fuel themselves with food delivered by Uber Eats, the correct resting position for a fork is hardly high on the list of priorities.

No, the only table manner that really matters is to actually sit down at the table and once you’re there, to be interested and interestin­g.

Gathering around a table with others is one of life’s joys, a lasting analogue pleasure in a largely digitised world. It’s where ideas are shared, conversati­ons flourish, people are heard and frustratio­ns aired.

As communitie­s move online, loneliness becomes more common and connection­s are more fleeting, eating together is what matters, not an errant elbow or a stabby fork. All we should really care about is our kids turn up and they want to be there.

On Easter Sunday, I had 11 around my table and we were all still there six hours later but for a quick reshufflin­g for the annual quiz and a couple of games of Finska. I recall phones coming out briefly to check a point being discussed but the truth is no one is interested in their phone when the conversati­on is engaging and rambunctio­us.

I love these times when I get to catch up with kids I’ve known since they were toddlers. Their lives and views are fascinatin­g, they seem to enjoy the company of their parents and I’m not going to ruin the fun by being particular about table manners.

In any case, you can embed them in anecdotes. I’ve relayed to my kids how an eccentric aristocrat in London taught me about bread-and-butter etiquette (break your bread with your hands, transfer a pat of butter to your side plate, butter and eat it in small pieces). Plus manners don’t mean you’re decent. The posh git might have managed bakery items beautifull­y but his wandering hands under the table left a lot to be desired.

In any case, manners are as malleable as everything else. Henry VIII threw sugar plums at guests and Queen Victoria was such a speedy eater she’d rip through seven courses in 30 minutes and because she was served first and didn’t wait for others, she’d be finished before her guests had barely started. Protocol demanded that as soon as the monarch was done, plates would be cleared away. Anyone watching the bacchanali­an scenes in The Great might surmise that 18th century Russia was similarly ill-mannered. And despite being particular in her ordering, Meg Ryan’s character in When Harry Met Sally showcased questionab­le table etiquette in the memorable diner scene.

Of course, we should teach our children table manners just as we teach them to cross the road. But it’s their company, love and ease that lingers long after the plates have been cleared away. Ideally, by them.

 ?? ??
 ?? ?? A scene from TV series The Great, which displayed malleable manners. Picture: Stan
A scene from TV series The Great, which displayed malleable manners. Picture: Stan

Newspapers in English

Newspapers from Australia