Forks: Yesterday, Today and Tomorrow

[prasantrin]

Though I was born and raised here in the States, I have always handled my fork and knife in the European manner (cutting with my left hand and eating with my right) - I think because my grandmother grew up in the Bahamas, which were then a British colony.  My mother learned the practice from her, and so on...

I thought the switching version that you describe was the American version...very confused, I am.

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Exactly! I use my knife with my left hand, and my fork with my right - therefore, no switching involved at all. Switching would mean I use one hand for both tasks, therefore requiring me to switch my fork from one hand to the other.

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Oops! I read the "cutting with my left hand and eating with my right" part as meaning "fork in my left hand when I cut" and "fork in my right hand when I eat". I've never been too good with the reading comprehension thing...

[srhcb]

I lke to keep my knife in my best hand in case a fight breaks out during the meal.

SB (although getting forked can hurt too)

[Carrot Top]

So, do tell - when eating cake, does one use a spoon, one's fingers, or the dreaded fork?

Actually (NERD ALERT!), I just finished a biography of Marie Antoinette, and she never said "Let them eat cake."  It's an apocryphal saying, first attributed to two or three other, earlier aristocrats.  Yup, yup.  Anyhoo...

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Of course that little flibertigibbet never said those lines! Marie's thoughts were solely upon how to keep her curls more perfect and her corset more tight than any of us other girls. My dear I would never dare whisper these truths to you but you seem so boldly intelligent! It must be the soap operas so readily available to the public that has made you this way even in the finest bloom of your extreme youth!!!

Indeed the lines were never uttered by anyone at all. It was a mistake of language that occured at the table of Beaumarchais one dreadful winter's eve. He *had* invited the Brits to dinner again. It was the style to keep running back and forth across the Channel in search of some form of intellectual fervor (and more cute dates) that we all so eagerly desired.

There was a writer there (I will not divulge his name - he is still alive too and may wreak his vengeance upon me if I do so and the power of the press is indeed a fearful one and not well suited to a lady's avoidance of wrinkles from worry!). One of those Barbarians. (English.) His command of our fine language was poor.

Conversation was rich and hearty that night. Our jewels twinkled and indeed we remained at table so long that the men were growing rough beards. There were no peas nor forks at the table. Glasses were raised to the Republic! In the excitement, someone shouted out (wishing to finally take a sip and not have to wait till the pompous ceremony had ended): "Laissez-faire l'etiquette!"

The poor writer heard the syllables but did not translate right.

"Etiquette" became "eat the cake".

"Laissez-faire" became "Let them".

And this, my dear intelligent and so very charming little sister (may I call you that, dear? We used to pet name each other sister in my time) is how history is made.

K.

[Carrot Top]

I think Americans developed the switching-thing to help burn additional calories.  By switching back and forth, one must burn at least 5 or 10 more calories than with not switching, thereby off-setting the bad effects of the super large portions served at many American restaurants.

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I think you're right, prasantrin.

[Carrot Top]

I lke to keep my knife in my best hand in case a fight breaks out during the meal.

SB (although getting forked can hurt too)

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Is that how you chopped off the "i" from the "like" written above?

Careful with that knife, sb.

[jsolomon]

The purpose is to use your dominant hand for the operation requiring the dexterity.

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Hmm... and what about we sinistrals?

[Carrot Top]

So, do tell - when eating cake, does one use a spoon, one's fingers, or the dreaded fork?

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With such eager enterprise had I entered upon the confession of Marie and the well-known saying you spoke of that indeed it was my terrible failing to neglect to advise you about the means of eating a cake.

I have discarded my corsets now so can only remain sitting here for one brief fragile moment in time to explain this issue of manners, fork, and cake. (For you know, without the corsets I can not even stand up but need to be carried here and there by the butler's son - and a fine study beast he is, too - well suited to the task and with the hidden advantage of the Italianate chest of furry down. But we shall not speak of that here. Let us return to the fork and the cake.)

Nobody was ever permitted to eat the cake. Careme (or Bony Tony as we called him in our gentle jests, for he was always using bits of discarded bones from the hens that went in the stockpot in the glorified odyssey he had set out upon to create the ultimate piece montee) had undertaken to educate us in the ways of sugar and architecture to his great excitement. The table would totter under the weight of sugar and cake structures lovingly created as if little mice would live in them - rich little mice - but we could only feast with our eyes and slaver with our lips. He never had a bit of cake left over for our own desserts till finally (in a rather brilliantly inspired theatrical moment that all the ladies whispered about for weeks to follow!) Jeannie (Madame Recamier of course) fainted onto the table with her beautiful chestnut locks draped over the fish plate, while letting out gentle pained uttereances of "Pudding. Pudding. My throat - please pudding." And pudding is what we finally were given as sweet.

Rochefoucauld did knock down the Altar to the Temple of Venutia Minutiea (that Careme had stuck on the table) during one of his ongoing neverending monologues as he stood up to wave his hands around to catch our attention (dreadful long dirty fingernails Rocky had - but his silly way of giggling inbetween those endlessly amusing prounouncements bade us ignore this one fault) but nevertheless we did not dine upon it that night. Too many bits of hen-bones laid about in the ruins.

Spoons again, my dear little sister. Spoons and puddings. Spoons and puddings. And it was a very good thing, too. For most of us had no real teeth left to eat with anyway.

Edited November 5, 2005 by Carrot Top (log)

[jgm]

I grew up doing the American switch thing.

Then just after high school, I toured Europe and found that in many ways, they know so much more about eating than we Americans.

College was my ruination. I've always been left-handed for writing, and right-handed for eating. I found the combination just too convenient while studying, and have gone back to switching. But I must admit the European way, with knife in right hand, fork held in left hand, tines down, makes so much more sense.

[*Deborah*]

Fork in the left hand, tines down; knife in the right. To eat long pasta: fork in the right hand, spoon in the left.

In retaurants I typically don't switch during the main course. Desserts are normally right-hand only unless there is a knife involved (or the two-handed fork and spoon extravaganza, bring it on; I will try not to lick the plate).

The exception to two-handed eating in public is breakfast: if I am eating alone and need one hand for my book, I will usually manage breakfast right hand only. Bacon is a finger food, right?

Casserole on the couch watching TV: fork in the right, no knives required.

[MomOfLittleFoodies]

I use my fork left-handed when I'm using a knife with my right, or when my 6 year old son insists on sitting to my right. He's a leftie, so if he sits to my right, I eat left-handed to avoid the battle of the elbows.

[Megan Blocker]

That's a good point people have made about the tines - mine are almost always down...unless I'm wearing a corset, like Carrot Top, in which case I can barely hold a fork at all.

[*Deborah*]

If I'm wearing a corset, normally there's someone available to feed me.

[Carrot Top]

Ah, youth in these days of such wild freedoms and heavily laden education! Your thoughts fly with the ease of a hummingbird on crack directly to the true meanings of whatever simple utterances flee my henna'ed lips.

The family of my manservant is a large one. He has many nephews. All well-versed in service. Russian-style, naturally, from the left - and spooned out with some generosity, too.

And by this time, several centuries later, they know how to use their forks well.

In whatever sort of service pleases you.

Just let me know.

Ah! Must run! Tea is served!! Whatever piece of cutlery *shall* I eat this bannock with do you think?

[Carrot Top]

And the answer, of course, must be something like this.

[andiesenji]

Very cute CT.

How about when growing up in a large family? No one has mentioned one rather important thing about holding the fork with tines pointing down. It is much easier to stab an encroaching hand sneaking toward your plate (which is holding the last pork chop) if you are holding the fork tines down. One needs to protect their own territory at table!

I follow the same practice as *Deborah* in that if something requires cutting with a knife, the fork is in my left hand, tines down and other food is helped onto the back of the fork with the knife after the meat is speared with the tines. However, if knife is not required, I keep fork in my right hand, tines up and I too use my left hand to hold a book if dining alone. Fingers are used as needed for pick-up foods.

[Megan Blocker]

And the answer, of course, must be something like this.

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This little sister (petite soeur?) is impressed with your Googling skills, Carrot Top!

[Carrot Top]

I actually was looking for a picture of this windchime thingie that is made out of forks and spoons that people collect from yard sales then string up to make a mobile but that fork popped up instead on only the third hit.

Meaningful?

Heh.

Everything is.

[Carrot Top]

How about when growing up in a large family?  No one has mentioned one rather important thing about holding the fork with tines pointing down.  It is much easier to stab an encroaching hand sneaking toward your plate (which is holding the last pork chop) if you are holding the fork tines down.  One needs to protect their own territory at table!

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I bet your brothers also used the odd fork whenever they could sneak it out of the kitchen to dig in the backyard with or to pry some piece of something off of something (this something obviously being strong enough to twist the tines of the fork into irremediably strange shapes). I know my son does this.

Edited November 6, 2005 by Carrot Top (log)

[racheld]

And the answer, of course, must be something like this.

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Those forks are a hoot---can't you see archaeologists of the future trying to make some sense of that utensil? It's hard enough with some of the old silver, which had REAL, albeit stilted and pretentious, uses.

I just acquired a set of the three-tine forks, knives with the wide old French blades, and a set of salad/dessert forks to match (not short tines, just narrower, 3/4 versions of the dinner forks)---very old-fashioned, and I'm looking forward to setting the Thanksgiving table with them.

I did enjoy clicking on the wind chimes, though---DD got the silver teapot one for her BD last month, though it did not have all the gewgaws in the second tier, just the beautiful pot and about nine well-flattened pieces of silver tableware. It plays a pretty tune outside the upstairs DR windows. And gleams in the sunlight.

I'm a no-switcher, mostly, odd for a GRITS girl, but my immersion into BritLit for all my reading life has swayed all my habits, I suppose. And I'm not above tucking a nice linen napkin into my neckline to preserve the pristine habiliment of my shelf. No pea mishaps for me. Or worse.

[Carrot Top]

Another Way to Use your Fork

Beck was on key vocally throughout the entire night, but he seemed to be a little out of it. Maybe he had some bad clam chowder beforehand--who knows--but he really didn't make an effort to connect with the crowd.

Both worlds came together during an absolutely amazing rendition of "Clap Hands." Beck's rhythmic posse brought a fully laid-out dinner table with at least 25 pieces of dinnerware, and started beating on them to the upbeat tune.

[Carrot Top]

Those forks are a hoot---can't you see archaeologists of the future trying to make some sense of that utensil?  It's hard enough with some of the old silver, which had REAL, albeit stilted and pretentious, uses.   

I'm a no-switcher, mostly, odd for a GRITS girl, but my immersion into BritLit for all my reading life has swayed all my habits, I suppose.  And I'm not above tucking a nice linen napkin into my neckline to preserve the pristine habiliment of my shelf.  No pea mishaps for me.    Or worse.

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Mais Rachel Madame la D -

Surely BritLit *has* swayed your manners towards napkins tucked into neckline. Woman to woman, though, indeed, I feel quite compelled to entreat you! Do! Remove the napkin. Do! My dear, allow the pea to fall where it will! For I must with all seriousness say: the fork following pea tumbling down towards tummy is one of the greater pleasures of life. I would be so bold at this moment to say that really, that is what a fork *should* have been designed for.

The Maker works in mysterious ways, my dear. S/he may have intended the fork for just this purpose and as it is our human intent to consistently fail to understand, we just plain got it wrong - using the tool instead to stick food into our mouths.

With my finest regards to GRITS and the antebellum way,

I remain,

Yours in fine forkery,

Mlle. Katerina la Vermintz

[*Deborah*]

Another Way to Use your Fork

Beck was on key vocally throughout the entire night, but he seemed to be a little out of it. Maybe he had some bad clam chowder beforehand--who knows--but he really didn't make an effort to connect with the crowd.

Both worlds came together during an absolutely amazing rendition of "Clap Hands." Beck's rhythmic posse brought a fully laid-out dinner table with at least 25 pieces of dinnerware, and started beating on them to the upbeat tune.

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I saw this show a few months back, it was a pretty wild moment. It lasted a little longer than its novelty value strictly warranted, but it was amusing, since, as a rule, spoons are as far as cutlery musicianship goes...and it was good to finally see what that mirror was all about.

Alas, Mr. Hanson was not wearing a corset.

[Carrot Top]

Alas, Mr. Hanson was not wearing a corset.

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Alas, indeed, dear Deborah.

For yet another good use of forks is in unbuttoning the ever-so-tight corset. The glove and boot buttoner was originally just an old fork, you know!

Alternately, yet another use of the tool is done by hooking the fork prongs underneath the corset strings and carrying the intended prey off as if they were merely yet another shopping bag from Bendel's.

Chop chop! (That saying came from using forks, too.)(Of course I was there, also. But that is a story for another day. The sun is shining here and the silverware section at the department store is gleamingly beckoning to me to hurry hurry and shop for more forks!)

Dear me. I seem to have gotten off the topic of "food". Therefore here is a tip: Forks are good things to tease live lobsters with before throwing them in the pot.

Gives an added savor of fighting spirit to the feast!

Edited November 6, 2005 by Carrot Top (log)

[Pontormo]

Ah! Must run! Tea is served!! Whatever piece of cutlery *shall* I eat this bannock with do you think?

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Mademoiselle ?

While your ancestry is rather difficult to gauge, hovering as you do somewhere at the nexus of eighteenth-century French salons, the world of Becky Sharp and the realm of Catherine the Great, still...

What, pray tell, is a bannock doing, passing through your elegant lips?

Methinks that a rather lowly item, surely consumed without the use of cutlery of any sort...

Unless, of course, your reference is to Bannocks of a different category altogether and you reveal yourself to be an unsavory friend of the New World and, shudder, cannibalism?

[Rehovot]

This is a highly entertaining thread...

I was taught to switch, growing up; then I grew up and stopped switching. Now I'm married to a European who doesn't switch--or ever put the knife down while eating-- which has made me become contrary, so I've switched back, just to be different. And am now switching.

I fear we may have to equip any future kids with a spork to avoid confusion...

Carry on!