Restaurant Parties, Vol. 22, Issue 17

Dear Etiquetteer:

Can you help me out of a hostessing dilemma? I like to take people out to dinner at restaurants rather than have them to dinner in my home. It’s less work for me, and with pandemic restrictions lifting, we all like getting out of the house and into the world again.

My dilemma is how to steer people away from the pricy end of the menu. When some of my guests actually realize I’m picking up the bill, they shift up to prime rib and champagne instead of something more usual. If I was entertaining them at home, that’s not what they’d be getting.

Etiquetteer, how can I set a boundary for my hospitality outside the home without looking cheap or embarrassing my guests?

Dear Hostess:

The idea of hosting a dinner party in a restaurant is so old-fashioned but gracious and delightful; Etiquetteer would love to see this make a comeback. Part of the problem is that Dutch Treat is more usual in restaurants: ordering whatever you wish and paying for it yourself (or splitting the bill evenly regardless of who ordered how much of what). Setting a limit within the illusion of boundless hospitality is a bit of a challenge.

Dear Mother was taught “A lady always orders from the middle of the menu” when invited out because a) you didn’t want to break the host’s bank account, but b) you also didn’t want to convey that the host might actually be cost conscious. If your guests are discovering that you’re picking up the bill as they’re opening their menus, it’s easier for excitement to tempt them. Instead, include “as my guest” when you invite them to lessen the shock. You might even drop a hint about a mid-level entrée: “Won’t you join me as my guest at En Economía Gourmet on the 18th? I’m so eager to try their tapas again.” Do that again when you’re all at the table looking at the menu, a subtle indication. Don’t send them to the restaurant’s website, not even for driving directions; it could lead them astray.

Dorothy Draper’s madcap book Entertaining Is Fun! includes many impractical ideas for hosting a private party in a public restaurant: selecting the specific table the day before, providing personal table linens and floral centerpieces, and having a personal consultation with the chef. Even in the 20th century, these preparations were unreasonable unless you were engaging a private dining room*. Try that now and you’re more likely to hear “Ma’am, this is an Applebee’s.”

One of Mrs. Draper’s ideas that might work is to order the entire dinner in advance**. (You will need to take into account everyone’s allergies, just as you would at home.) This way everyone gets the same meal, just as they would in your dining room. But this custom is so antique it could come as a shock to your guests, and it might even be too highfalutin’ for the restaurant you’ve chosen. And people have ridiculous ideas about not getting the same meals as anyone else in a restaurant, which Etiquetteer thinks is just silly. Possibly you could arrange for the host to offer you a limited menu of three to five entrées in your price range? Possibly some of your favored restaurants could print a special menu in their offices for your dinner.

Barring that, you could also consider increasing your budget, entertaining your friends at less expensive meals like lunch or brunch, or focusing your hospitality on those friends who do, in fact, order from the middle of the menu. Etiquetteer wishes you Happy Times With Your Friends and bon appétit!

*Etiquetteer loves the French term for a private dining room, séparée, as in the aria “Im Chambre Séparée” from Der Opernball.

**According to Olivier, the legendary maître d’ of the Paris Ritz, “only three people in all his experience knew how to order a dinner properly . . . the Prince of Wales (later Edward VII) would write two weeks ahead to order a dinner for twelve. Prince Esterhazy of Hungary would bring his own gypsy band and ordered his dinner for fifty one month in advance. And Elsa Maxwell would rush in six hours before to order a dinner for two hundred.” — from R.S.V.P. Elsa Maxwell’s Own Story, by Elsa Maxwell. Possibly the only one of these three not concerned about the expense was Miss Maxwell.

Buffets at Home: What You Will Need, Vol. 22, Issue 16

More people are returning to entertaining at home with the waning (we hope) of the pandemic. Buffet meals, at any time of day, are a wonderful way to do this, but do you have everything it takes for a stress-free occasion? Time to inventory the china cupboard and silver pantry! Let’s imagine a buffet dinner for 12 people, preceded by a cocktail hour, that involves stationary hors d’oeuvres, two hosts, and no staff. What will you need on hand, outside of the kitchen? The dressier your function is, the more important that all your plates and glasses match; for more casual functions, mixing and matching styles and patterns can be fun.

For the cocktail hour:

• Stacks of cocktail napkins, either cloth or paper. (Others may judge you, but paper napkins are Perfectly Proper. Etiquetteer has written about this before.)

• 14 cocktail glasses (someone is sure to mislay or break one).

• 12 coasters.

• At least one ice bucket.

• One or more water pitchers.

• Bar equipment: cocktail shaker, muddler, bar spoon, small bowls for garnishes like lemon peel or cherries.

• Three or four nut dishes for side tables.

• One tray or platter per hors d’oeuvres. Cheese trays are sometimes presented on cutting boards with small knives. Shrimp cocktail may be served on a platter, but is more impressive nested in a bowl of ice.

• Sauce bowls for dips or cocktail sauces.

• One or two small waste bowls for shrimp tails, toothpicks, and crumpled paper cocktail napkins. In houses that permit smoking, ashtrays often do double duty.

For the dining room:

• Stacks of dinner napkins, either cloth or paper. If cloth, be sure you have a couple extra.

• Tablecloth for dining room table.

• 14 dinner plates (extras for the guests who forgot to R.s.v.p. will save trouble later.) If you’re worried about portion control, use luncheon plates, which are slightly smaller.

• 14 dinner forks.

• 14 dinner knives, if needed, but Etiquetteer thinks it a kindness to serve dishes that can be managed without a knife, especially if people will need to balance their plates on their knees.

• 14 wineglasses, which may also be used for water; people certainly can’t manage more than one glass at a time with a plate.

• One bread basket, lined with a napkin.

• Two 9x13 casseroles (one for a meat casserole, one for a vegetarian casserole), each with serving spoon.

• One vegetable dish, with serving spoon.

• One trivet per hot serving dish.

• One salad bowl, with salad fork and spoon. (If salad includes cherry tomatoes, be sure to slice in half when preparing.)

• 14 dessert plates.

• 14 dessert forks or spoons.

• One cake stand or dessert platter, with cake knife, or, 14 ramekins for individual desserts.

If coffee is served:

• 12 demitasses or coffee cups and saucers. (Not everyone will want coffee.)

• 12 teaspoons.

• Three small coffeepots, urns, or thermal pitchers for coffee, tea, and decaf. (Tea drinkers sometimes feel slighted if their preference isn’t honored, and decaf drinkers may have medical reasons why they cannot have caffeine.)

• Cream pitcher, sugar bowl with spoon, and container for packets of artificial sweetener. (Etiquetteer has little patience with the galaxy of sweetening options available today. If people are going to be fussy about their sweeteners, they must bring their own.)

• Tray for cream and sugar.

That’s roughly 172 items, if you count a stack of napkins as one item — but then math was never Etiquetteer’s strong suit. These numbers can be reduced by inviting fewer guests, or eliminated completely by dining out. Etiquetteer encourages you to attempt the former first. Bon appétit!

From Dorothy Draper’s madcap book Entertaining Is Fun!

Stemming an Endless Flow of Words, Vol. 22, Issue 15

Dear Etiquetteer:

How would you advise a polite way of intervening when a person is talking non-stop?

A friend and I have been invited to visit a third friend who exhausts people with her nonstop talking. She can keep the one-way conversation going for a half hour or more, and listening to her can be tiring.

Should I raise my hand or clap my hands to get her attention, and then say it has been a long time since the three of us have been together and each of us has news to share.

Please advise. I don’t spend much time with Chatty Cathy, but she has been ill and I want to accept her invitation to visit.

Dear Listener:

The Voluble* have always been with us, and often they are people we care about very much. Sometimes they are very aware of what they’re doing, because they love the attention. But more usually they are just oblivious to subtle social cues — and even to direct statements if they are really engaged on their subject. Let’s consider how to head your Voluble Friend off at the pass.

When you accept the invitation, provide a teaser about your news to intrigue them. “I am so eager to tell you about my trip overseas/family scandal/job promotion when we get together!” This may prepare the ground that, in fact, someone else has something to say. On arrival, start off with your news before your Voluble Friend begins (if that’s possible). Keep it up for five minutes, and then at least you’ll have gotten your news out.

Once your Voluble Friend’s monologue has reached the 15-20 minute stage, and other interjections have not stemmed the flow, try repeating their name over several times until they stop: “Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause) Jehu (pause).” This may or may not include raising your hand. When you’re acknowledged, plea for equal time since your visit is finite. “We can’t stay all that long, and we have our own news that we want to share with you.” As a last resort, you may always rise to leave**. “It’s been a lovely visit, but I know you’ve been unwell and I do want you to recover your strength” may be read in more than one way.

Interestingly, almost the first Bible verse to appear on an internet search for “Bible verses about visiting the sick” was Job 5:21: “You shall be hidden from the lash of the tongue, and shall not fear destruction when it comes.” Use this as a reminder that your visit to this Voluble Friend will eventually come to an end. And visiting the sick is an act of compassion.

Etiquetteer’s Dear Mother used to say “This is an opportunity to practice Patience.” Etiquetteer wishes you strength, patience, and humor as you prepare to call on your Voluble Friend.

*So much nicer than saying “gasbags,” isn’t it?

**At a meal, of course, you are bound to stay through the end of the meal. But a visit needn’t be longer than half an hour.

Inappropriate Flirting, Vol. 22, Issue 14

Dear Etiquetteer:

A friend recently introduced me to an interesting and attractive man who lives in my area. I completely misread the signs and proceeded to flirt in a heavy-handed and inappropriate fashion.

I’m embarrassed and ashamed of my behavior and would like to apologize. I’ve obviously dug a hole for myself with the first impression I made, but if possible I’d like to make some steps toward becoming friends. (At the very least, I do not want him to be uncomfortable if — and more likely when — we see each other in public.)

Aside from knocking off the inappropriate flirting, what is your advice on making an apology? Also, what are your thoughts on attempting to build a friendship?

Dear Flirting:

First, Etiquetteer gives you credit for recognizing that you behaved inappropriately. Not everyone does, which makes things so very difficult later. And you recognize that you may have an uphill battle mending this fence.

An apology is a noble goal, but be prepared for a possible rebuff. Etiquetteer can’t know the degree to which this man is offended with you, but he may consider any outreach intrusive. Flowers, so often a Lovely Gesture of Contrition, would be Not At All Perfectly Proper in this case — too easy to misconstrue as a Romantic Overture. Texting or email might also feel invasive, e.g. “Oh no, I’ve been tracked down!”

The next time you see this person in public, the most important thing you can do is to keep your hands to yourself. Maintaining social distance, apologize for have created an awkward situation. Avoid compliments like “Well, you were just so fascinating,” which appear to blame the Object of Your Flirting for being irresistible. Also avoid language that minimizes the situation, like “I’m not usually like this.” It doesn’t matter whether you are or not; what matters is what happened this time.

As to pursuing a friendship . . . let this person take the lead. Even if your apology is received well, this person may prefer to keep you at arm’s length. As you suggest that it’s very likely the two of you will see each other in public, after your apology, let him approach you. You’ve already seen that Insistence yielded poor results; you may have better fortune with Reserve.

Etiquetteer wishes you a cordial reception to a well-considered apology, and greater awareness of your hands and personal space when out and about.

Wedding Cake, Vol. 22, Issue 13

Dear Etiquetteer:

Many thanks for your wonderful column. I enjoy it so much. Perhaps someday you can write a column about the tradition of saving a slice of wedding cake. My mother’s corner cupboard has a sweet smell that I attribute to the slice of cake that lay entombed in a covered milk glass in the far recesses of the cabinet until she passed. My parents enjoyed over 50 years of marriage and the cake stayed with them the entire time.

Dear Caked:

Etiquetteer’s Dear Mother would have said “There’s no time like the present!” So let’s explore some of those things today.

But first, a confession: wedding cake is one of Etiquetteer’s favorite foods since childhood — at least until the discovery of groom’s cake at a 1971 wedding, which has the distinct advantage of being chocolate. They aren’t always chocolate — who can forget the red velvet armadillo groom’s cake in Steel Magnolias? — but then, there’s no accounting for taste. There’s nothing more wonderful than wedding cake.

Etiquetteer hasn’t heard about a tradition of saving a piece of wedding cake in perpetuity. The longest it might last is the first anniversary. Indeed, the tradition Etiquetteer first heard about was the Happy Couple saving the top tier in the freezer to eat on their first anniversary. Some have suggested that it might keep until the birth of their first child, but Etiquetteer thinks all babies deserve their own christening cakes, not hand-me-downs. Was the slice your mother saved from her wedding, or someone else’s? Regardless, Etiquetteer thinks its preservation all those many years Completely Charming, but not perhaps universal.

Emily Post Herself put forward the Perfectly Proper Procedure for 20th century weddings in her first edition of Etiquette (1922): “In addition to the big cake on the bride’s table, there are at all weddings, near the front door so that the guests may each take one as they go home, little individual boxes of wedding cake, ‘black’ fruit cake. Each box is made of white moiré or gros-grain paper, embossed in silver with the last initial of the groom intertwined with that of the bride and tied with white satin ribbon.” While this might be a fruitcake, the frosting would traditionally be wedding white. This is a lovely gesture of hospitality, and also should satisfy the momentary* enthusiasm for a souvenir of the occasion.

The tradition that goes along with this, which reinforces the Traditional Maidenly Aspiration to Marriage**, is for a young woman to sleep with a piece of wedding cake under her pillow in order to dream of her future husband. The Knot declares that this tradition dates from the 17th century. Upstairs Downstairs fans will remember Ruby shoveling an enormous slice of Georgina’s wedding cake into her purse “t’put under me pillow, Mrs. Bridges!” Etiquetteer considers this a rather messy tradition, but really, your private life is your affair, and this is between you and your laundress.

Emily Post Herself concludes: “At a sit-down breakfast the wedding cake boxes are sometimes put, one at each place, on the tables so that each guest may be sure of receiving one, and other ‘thoughtless’ ones prevented from carrying more than their share away.” Let’s remember, folks, that Greed is one of the Seven Deadly Sins, and taking more than one slice home is Not Perfectly Proper.

Etiquetteer wishes you Tasty Joy in every bite of wedding cake that comes your way, no matter how long you wait to enjoy it.

*Etiquetteer once saved a tulle bag of three Jordan almonds from a friend’s wedding for five years before disposing of it to make room for other sentimental detritus.

**Maidens are allowed to wish for all sorts of worldly aspirations and achievements now, thank goodness; they are not confined to marriage.

Sugar Casters, Vol. 22, Issue 12

Dear Etiquetteer:

My husband and I recently started collecting sterling sugar shakers from the 18th and 19th centuries, quite by accident as we thought our first was actually a salt shaker! We’ve fallen in love with them but don’t know when it’s appropriate to use them. We recently saw them displayed on the dining table during dessert in the goodbye dinner for the Countess Olenska in The Age of Innocence. We’d love to start using them; can you help?

Dear Shakin’:

With pleasure! A sugar shaker — more properly called a sugar caster — was created to shake granulated or powdered sugar over food at the table. (This is where the term “caster sugar” comes from.) What distinguishes them from salt and pepper shakers is the higher, and often more elaborate, dome. According to Wikipedia, when they first came along in the late 17th century, they would have come as a set with containers for other table condiments: salt, pepper, vinegar, oil, and mayonnaise. You’ll find a great deal more information here at AC Silver.

It’s interesting to observe how table fashions change. These days the standard table condiments at home* are salt, pepper, and butter; oil and vinegar may show up with the salad (and oil possibly with the rolls), but their appearance isn’t guaranteed, and mayonnaise isn’t even a dim voice crying in the wilderness. (Now that Etiquetteer has said this, let’s see how many readers reply with condiments they use all the time that Etiquetteer neglected to mention.)

To prevent confusion — no one wants a sugary steak — you may wish to bring your sugar caster to the table only when required, for dessert. They seem to have been used most often for fresh berries (sometimes the best desserts are the simplest), but your own culinary research may yield new information.

You may be interested to know that the function of a sugar caster was also filled by a small pierced ladle or spoon called a sugar sifter. Etiquetteer has one, and demonstrated its use back in Volume 15.

Etiquetteer wishes you joy in collecting, both sugar casters and dinner guests who appreciate them.

*Obviously in restaurants ketchup and mustard show up regularly on tables.

Student Questions About Table Manners, Vol. 22, Issue 11

Last week Etiquetteer finally got back in a dining room full of college students for an in-person etiquette dinner. The kinds of questions that got asked during the dinner reminded Etiquetteer that truly, there is a first time for everything, and that for many people in their early 20s, a sit-down meal with silverware remains a novelty, not a daily experience. Herewith, a few of the questions that came up during dinner.

First course: Butternut squash bisque.

Question: “What if you just really don’t like something?”

Etiquetteer responds: A meal is temporary. Try a couple bites. If you still find it impossible, just position your silver so the staff know you’re done, and focus on talking with your tablemates. You may always order in or fix up some ramen when you get home.

Question: “Where does the soup spoon go when you’re finished?”

Etiquetteer responds: On the soup plate, positioned on the diagonal at the upper right.

Question: “But won’t that get the soup plate dirty?”

Etiquetteer responds: That’s why there’s a dishwasher in the kitchen. The soup plate’s purpose is to keep the tablecloth from getting dirty. Let it do its job.

Second course: Roasted herbed Statler chicken breast, root vegetables and potatoes. (Vegan entrée: pan-seared tofu.)

Question: “I’m left-handed. Do I really have to hold the knife in my right hand?”

Etiquetteer responds: As a society we have rejected the old-fashioned prejudice against left-handedness. And no less an authority than Emily Post (in the new Centennial Edition of Etiquette) says that one uses one’s dominant hand for one’s knife. That said, your place setting doesn’t change; knives and spoons remain on the right, and forks on the left.

Question: “Is it OK to add sweetener to my iced tea?”

Etiquetteer (to himself): Oopsie! There are no iced tea spoons in the table service! We’ll have to make this up on the fly. But the omission is not unusual in New England. In the South, however . . .

Etiquetteer responds: Absolutely! Use your dessert spoon at the top of your place setting, and then place it, and the used packet of sweetener, on your bread plate. Remember, once you’ve used a piece of silver, it doesn’t go back on the tablecloth.

Question: “Is it acceptable to remove all the chicken skin at once, or do I have to do that piece by piece?

Etiquetteer responds: If you can do so without attracting attention, go ahead. The best table manners are what you don’t notice.

Question: “Stacking plates at the end of the course: cute or not cute?”

Etiquetteer responds: Not cute, but Etiquetteer appreciates your helpful impulse. At home that might be very thoughtful, but in a professional setting, the servers are there to make a congenial experience for you and your colleagues. They’re professionals; let them do their work well.

Third course: Vegan chocolate cake (garnished with half a strawberry and its leaves)

Question: “How do I call over the server?”

Etiquetteer responds: Well, it is no longer Perfectly Proper to call out “Oh, waiter!” as used to be allowed. Keep an eagle eye out for your server, and raise your hand and wave if necessary.

Question: “How do I take off these strawberry leaves?!”

Etiquetteer responds: The leaves are edible, so you don’t really have to remove them unless you just can’t stand the thought. But you may cut them off with the side of your fork if necessary.

Question: “I was taught that if you’re not having coffee after dinner that you should turn your coffee cup upside down. Is that still true?”

Etiquetteer responds: That custom is seen less now than it used to be. (For a moment Etiquetteer thought it might be a relic of the Harvey Girls “cup code,” but that isn’t the case.)

French Fries, Vol. 22, Issue 10

“Just as at a dinner party this week on Madison Avenue a green kid glove was laid by the place of each guest to be put on and used while eating olives.” — from “While the Auto Waits,” by O. Henry.

Dear Etiquetteer:

I am finally getting back to restaurants after the pandemic, but things are changing. At a new place I went to for lunch, my burger came with fries, but they were served in a tiny brown paper bag standing up on the plate, about two inches high. Is this, as you say, Perfectly Proper? And what is the best way to eat them when they’re served like this? Is it acceptable to eat them from the bag, or do I empty the fries onto my plate and then put the bag someplace else? Help!

Dear Fried:

Etiquetteer is happy to help, and the first order of business is to encourage you to keep calm. A meal is temporary, and it’s just French fries.

Your query immediately made Etiquetteer think of that situation from O. Henry at the top of this column — one of his typical, delightful inventions — and how the jaded palate needs to be refreshed with more than just a new recipe. We’re so used to French fries in paper envelopes at fast food joints, why on earth not do the same thing at a sit-down restaurant? So many white tablecloth steakhouses have bridged casual to formal service by serving fries in little silver buckets, this seems like the logical next step to reduce both storage and dishwashing needs.

The Down Home Style of a brown paper bag* on the table of a “nice” restaurant also brings to mind the New York trend several years ago of serving top-notch cocktails in Mason jars; that was a little bit like Marie Antoinette’s toy farm Le Hameau, the supreme example of the Rich acting like Just Folks. Etiquetteer lays a wreath on the death of that trend without regret. Cocktails go best in Mason jars when they are being transported for picnics or other entertainments. (Etiquetteer always looks forward to the visits of particular friends whose “homemade tomato sauce” is really a Mason jar full of Little Italys.)

But Etiquetteer digresses. How to eat French fries with Perfect Propriety changes with the utensils available. The more likely you are to see a fork on the table, the more likely, but not definitively, it is that you use it for your fries. It’s also true that the more likely you are to see a tablecloth at a restaurant, the less likely, but not definitively, you are to see fries on the menu. However you choose to consume them, don’t call attention to yourself. Discretion is the best courtesy at table. If you can’t pick up your fries without getting ketchup on them, use your silverware. Obviously that means taking them out of the tiny bag, which you can fold and slip under the rim of your plate. No need to clutter up the table with that trash.

Etiquetteer wishes you sufficient servings to tasty fries and bon appétit.

*It was a plain brown paper bag, wasn’t it? Branding would have been too much like fast food.

Ten Tips for Business Functions, Vol. 22, Issue 9

With the end (?) of the pandemic hopefully in sight, business life is returning in some measure to in-person conferences and company-wide gatherings. For some it’s a welcome return, but for others it’s a challenge. Etiquetteer has a few tips to polish those rusty corporate people skills. An important part is putting yourself in the Perfectly Proper state of mind.

1. Expect to meet people you don't already know and interact with them. Remaining against the wall or with colleagues you know may feel more comfortable, but you miss expanding your network when you do.

2. Be able to talk about more than the weather and parking problems. You will appear well-informed by skimming the news and/or the latest magazines before the event. Be aware of currrent events in the world and in your field.

3. The handshake has remained the standard greeting, but not everyone is shaking hands because of the pandemic. Respect everyone’s choices.

4. Use first and last names when introducing yourself or introducing others with you. “Hi, I’m Stacy Smith. This is John Manley and Yolanda Williams.”

5. Use your left hand to hold your drink so your right hand is warm and dry for shaking hands. Don’t shake hands if your right hand is greasy or crumbly with food; have a cocktail napkin handy to keep clean.

6. Hors d’oeuvres leftovers like toothpicks and shrimp tails are a nuisance. Tuck them someplace discreet, like an ashtray or dish, wastebasket, or your purse or pocket.

7. Ask questions that require more than a Yes or No answer. Instead of “Did you see that movie?” try “What movies have you seen?”

8. Cocktail party conversations ebb and flow. It’s no sin when someone says “I’ve enjoyed talking with you, have a nice evening” or “Thanks, I need to join some colleagues” and moves to another part of the room. Remain where you are, or move in another direction.

9. “May I give you my business card?” is also an effective way to begin to end a conversation. If offered a card and you have none with you to offer back, say “I’m so sorry, I don’t have my cards with me tonight. I'll be sure to reach out to you soon.” Then remember to bring them to the next event. (Etiquetteer is often very guilty of forgetting cards.)

10. Event staff are people, too, and should be treated with consideration. Staff at the registration desk and servers should be thanked briefly for their help. Start any request with “Please.”

Etiquetteer wishes you many pleasant and Perfectly Proper business interactions.

Splitting the Check, Vol. 22, Issue 8

Dear Etiquetteer:

I saw your suggestion about separate checks* for restaurant parties, and I was shocked! Shocked! at your response to this one. There is nothing more annoying than arguing over who paid how much. The pool always comes up short . . . and the waiter undertipped. Putting the onus of extra work on the underpaid and overharrassed waiter just so you don’t have to pay a couple of extra bucks is, to me, very inconsiderate and therefore never Perfectly Proper.

I don’t drink wine so I always end up “overpaying” when going out with friends.  It’s the cost of having friends and being a friend.

Dear Overpaying:

Etiquetteer just loves you for your concern for the waiter, the person most responsible for a smoothly run restaurant table, the most put upon, and — sadly — the most overlooked where it counts, the tip. Etiquetteer commends you for your sympathy and for having found a solution to the problem that works for you and for those dining with you. But truly, restaurants have lost the battle forbidding separate checks to large parties. To help things move smoothly without surprises, two things help: confirming with the restaurant before you arrive that they will, in fact, accommodate separate checks for your party; and confirming with your server before drinks are ordered that there will be separate checks. In these cases Etiquetter agrees with you that it’s necessary to tip a little more than usual.

Etiquetteer also understands your point about “the cost of being a friend,” but that coin has two sides. The reverse of overpaying when you’ve ordered less is paying your true share when you’ve ordered more. The smoother mechanism for the latter is separate checks. It does mean a bit more work for the staff, but it keeps relations between diners congenial. (Etiquetteer has written about the pitfalls of splitting the check before.) And a more thoughtful tip keeps relations between diners and staff more congenial, especially for restaurant regulars.

After all that, perhaps it’s really easier to entertain friends at home. Except for negotiating the issue of allergies** . . .

*Scroll down to number 55 for the relevant suggestion.

**See number 52.

The New Rules of Etiquette? Vol. 22, Issue 7

New York magazine’s The Cut just put out “194 updated rules on how to tip, text, ghost, host, and politely deal with strangers.” Some of them are sensible, some are inscrutable, and others are being fiercely debated on social media. Still others are replete with split infinitives, which makes Etiquetteer crazy. So why shouldn’t Etiquetteer join the fray? Let’s consider a few of these.

2. “You may callously cancel almost any plans up until 2pm.” Callously?! Life happens, but the more you treat plans with friends with callousness, the fewer friends you’ll have. If that’s your ultimate goal (and it might be), carry on. Otherwise, Etiquetteer stands in the camp of “Honor your R.s.v.p.”

5. “Don’t use friends as foreplay” begins “If, as a couple, you start an argument in the middle of a group of friends . . ” and Etiquetteer goes full stop. DO NOT start an argument in the middle of a group of friends, period. Take your little couple’s tiff someplace else, or save it until you get home. No one needs to be part of that.

13. “It’s never too late to send a condolence note.” Yes. Etiquetteer’s opinions about condolences are well known.

30. “When casually asked how you are, say ‘Good!’” Actually, the correct response is “Very well, thank you.” Concluding “And you?” is optional. Elevate your game, people.

47. “Listening is not the time for you to silently rehearse what you want to say next. We can see your eyes glazing over.” That’s a very good point, but how about its corollary: if you can see people’s eyes glazing over, stop talking or change the subject. They might be rehearsing how to get out of your monologue — um, conversation.

51. “No deciding your order at the counter. When you roll up, speak up.” Sweet mercy goodness yes. Use that time in line to everyone’s advantage by making up your mind!

52. “Don’t foist your allergies onto a dinner party.” Oh dear, this is getting a lot of pushback. Etiquetteer has a certain amount of sympathy for people with serious medical allergies. But the example given (a dinner guest bringing his own meal in a blender (!)) pulls the focus away from the fellowship of the dinner table and the atmosphere the hosts want to create to that specific person. The late Gloria Swanson, famously vegetarian, would bring her own sandwich in her handbag and slip it to the butler to be served to her when everyone got the entrée. It didn’t become a focus.

52 (continued). As reported on Yahoo, someone protested on Twitter “Counterpoint: you’re a terrible host if you throw a dinner party without asking your friends if they have any allergies . . . They’re supposed to just get sick or go hungry for your ego?” This sounds like it’s coming from someone who has never actually given a dinner party themselves. Hosts don’t prepare dinner menus out of a sense of ego — the best ones don’t, anyway. The problem is the number of people who claim preferences as allergies. That becomes a burden to hosts.

55. “For group dinners with friends, always split the bill evenly.” This is also getting a lot of pushback from people who have been stiffed when only ordering a salad. The obvious solution, which everyone seems to have ignored, is separate checks! The restaurants lost that battle a long time ago. Insist on a separate check if you have concerns.

69. “Don’t go into a phone vortex at dinner.” True. Better yet, if you need to use your phone during dinner, leave the table to use it, use it only for what you need (e.g. don’t linger to scroll through the socials), and return to the party. Be with who you’re with.

80. “Don’t buy a gift off-registry.” Nonsense.

101. “Don’t comment on other people’s food.” Yes! This drives Etiquetteer mad. You can’t just say “I’m about to spoil the visual that intrigues you by putting it in my mouth.”

102. “You can eat anything at your desk in an open-plan office.” No. Highly aromatic foods are still a no-no.

112. “Ask how much everyone pays in rent.” Etiquetteer knows rents are ridiculously sky high, but not everyone wants to talk about it, or should be forced to deflect your inquiry. People are entitled to keep their finances private. As Eve Arden said in Mildred Pierce, “Leave something on me!”

How to Eat a Soft-Boiled Egg, Vol. 22, Issue 6

With the price of eggs having made the news last month, this seems like a good time to review how to eat a soft-boiled egg from an egg cup. Scrambled, fried, and poached are more usual in America, but perhaps the soft-boiled egg will catch on again since there’s just one per serving. Etiquetteer demonstrates (with questionable skill) in the video above.

You’ll need an egg cup, a plate to serve it on, a knife, and a teaspoon (if you don’t have egg spoons — and who does?).

Once your egg is boiled to your satisfaction, place it in the egg cup with the pointed side down. Etiquetteer has to use tongs to get it from the pot to the cup it’s so hot. The pointed side goes down because you expose more egg at the top when you open it. Or the pointed side goes up because there might be an air pocket there, or because you prefer it that way. There’s no established rule. And they say there’s no freedom in good manners . . .

John Barrymore as Louis XV with soft-boiled egg and fork in Marie Antoinette (1938). Etiquetteer recalls his line “I pride myself I do it rather neatly.”

Holding the egg cup steady with your left hand, you may use either spoon or knife to open it up*. Tap the top of your egg with your teaspoon to crack it, and then the tip of your spoon to open it wide enough to get the spoon inside. Or, use the knife to lop off the top á la Louis XV, with a quick stroke. Of course he used a fork, which isn’t au courant in this century. Madame Campan describes the impression he made in her memoir of Marie Antoinette: “He was very expert in a number of trifling matters . . . for instance, he would knock off the top of an egg-shell at a single stroke of his fork; he therefore always ate eggs when he dined in public, and the Parisians who came on Sundays to see the King dine, returned home less struck with his fine figure than with the dexterity with which he broke his eggs.” Etiquetteer does not yet have the late King’s confidence in this procedure; it takes practice. One might also argue that any ostentation in table manners, even perfection, calls too much attention to oneself. Louis might have nurtured a better reputation had he concentrated on governing instead of dining.

Obviously the bits you whack off your egg go on your plate. Season with salt and pepper if you choose, then eat with a spoon or — a novelty to Etiquetteer — dip “fallen soldiers” into your egg, hot buttered toast cut into strips.

Etiquetteer wishes you a Perfectly Proper breakfast in congenial company.

The egg cup pattern is obviously upside down, but with an egg so small, what else is to be done? This is Dear Grandmother’s china, and as Mrs. Honeychurch said, “Please remember that your father bought the drawing room furniture and we must put up with it.”

*For the advanced foodie there are also egg scissors, but they look more like kitchen utensils than something to use in the dining room.

Gym Greetings, Vol. 22, Issue 5

Dear Etiquetteer:

I belong to the YWCA in my small town and use its small but nice gym. I have no set schedule for my visits so don’t have regular gym buddies I say hello to. Instead, when I do get to the gym, there’s often one or two folks either already working out or following my arrival a few minutes later. It feels very awkward not to at least say hello, yet it is equally awkward to ignore their presence.

What do I do? Do I say a cheery “Hello!”? Do I just jump on the treadmill and ignore everyone? Do I just make eye contact and nod my head and grunt? One time, I said hello to a young man who was at the gym the last 3-4 times I was there. I said hello and joked it was funny we seemed to be on the same schedule. He turned about five shades of red, said “Huh,” and has since made a very obvious effort to ignore me when our paths cross. What did I do wrong? How do I present as a friendly fellow human without breaking some silent gym etiquette code? 

Dear Gym Buddy:

There are many different reasons to go to a gym, and one of the minor ones is to socialize. (People whose principal purpose is actually to work out frequently complain about Social Gym Members hogging the machines for chatting and posing.) Many people feel the need to focus exclusively on their workout, so any form of conversation is a distraction, even with people they know well. Some actively fear getting drawn into chatter, particularly with strangers, which probably explains the behavior of your Grunting Gym Bro.

This is the opposite of how we’re taught to behave in social situations, so feeling uncomfortable at first with this more focused environment isn’t unusual. A nod and a small smile are really all that’s needed to acknowledge the presence of others in the room; grunting is an option Etiquetteer has never found Perfectly Proper as a greeting. This way you can recognize everyone’s common humanity without disrupting their routine. And if you do fall into conversation with someone, move away from the machine you’re using (after wiping it down with your towel) to allow others to get on with their workouts. That might not be an issue in your small small-town gym, but Etiquetteer hears about it plenty from big-city gym members.

Not now, I’m concentrating.

Tabletop Trivia, Vol. 22, Issue 4

Herewith, a few Little Bits of Interest you never know when you may need at the dinner table:

• Because every rule needs an exception that doesn’t come up much, the only fork that goes on the right is the oyster fork. If soup is also on the menu, the oyster fork rests at an angle in the bowl of the soup spoon. If not, it should be set straight up and down.

• The only other fork that does not go on the left is the dessert fork, which may be set above the plate with a dessert spoon. Etiquetteer often spaces on which goes where, but the dessert fork goes above facing right and the spoon below it facing left. Here’s a handy mnemonic: Tines top/tines right, bowl left/bowl below.

• Salt cellars are very small glass or crystal bowls for salt. (There are astonishingly beautiful silver salt cellars, too, some with glass liners.) Often they come with tiny silver spoons. Scatter salt from the spoon over your food; this operation may take a little longer if you’re used to a shaker and exuberant use of salt. Don’t put the salt spoon back into the salt cellar, as that will hasten its corrosion — an exception to the rule never to put a piece of silver on the table after it’s been used. In the relationship between silver and salt, silver is the enabler and salt is the abuser.

• When there is no salt spoon, use your fingers to scatter your salt a pinch at a time. Do not pick up the salt cellar and wave it over your plate! Yes, this means actually using your fingers. If someone else takes a pinch of salt from your salt cellar, remember that salt is a preservative and that everyone was supposed to wash their hands before coming to the table. Don’t stress about it.

• Speaking of spoons, caviar spoons are always made of horn, because metal affects the taste of the caviar.

• Formal dinner tables often include small dishes of nuts or candies (don’t mix them). Remember the Maillard bonbons at May Archer’s farewell dinner for the Countess Olenska in The Age of Innocence? They should be bite-sized bonbons, chocolates, or caramels. Etiquetteer likes it best when they are not wrapped; this eliminates drifts of foil paper trash on the table. Opinions may vary about the brown paper frill, but Etiquetteer would nix those, too.

• Etiquetteer usually has a box of Andes mints in memory of Dear Grandmother, but they usually remain in the parlor. The green foil wrapper is part of the Andes Mint Experience.

• Flowers remain a popular choice for centerpieces, but they aren’t the only option. Jaded eyes love novelty! Fruit, figurines, shells — use your imagination. The Duchess of Devonshire tried live fluffy yellow chicks once for a dinner at Chatsworth, in some sort of glass container. They were such a success that the following year she attempted fresh-scrubbed pink piglets, but they became such a nuisance that the Duke ordered them off the table*. This sort of experimentation is only possible with an extensive staff or mad DIY skills. Etiquetteer would still suggest caution.

*From Wait for Me! by Deborah Mitford Duchess of Devonshire.

Legislative Dress Codes, Vol. 22, Issue 3

Once again, What Women May Wear has made the news, this time from the Missouri State House of Representatives, where a female legislator put forward a motion last week to determine how much female legislators may bare arms. There’s too much heat and not enough light in the resulting kerfuffle. Let’s look at the issues.

Etiquetteer favors dress codes because they create and/or honor a Sense of Occasion — in this case, one hopes, the seriousness and professionalism of legislative action. All entities have the right to set dress codes for their members. Businesses establish dress codes for their employees. Schools set dress codes for their inmates:* students, faculty, and staff. So of course it makes sense that a legislative body has this right as well.**

Some have tried to cast this as men telling women what to wear. That argument is undercut by the fact that the changes were proposed by Representative Ann Kelley (R), who is not a man. Men make up a majority of the chamber, but they didn’t initiate this change. Since no member of a legislature should be forbidden to consider anything having to do with its rules of conduct, of course male legislators had to vote on it.

Some have groused that the dress code for male legislators wasn’t also changed. We are nowhere near that future Utopia — if such Utopia be — unburdened by gender and gender-based clothing. The last time that was attempted 50-odd years ago all we got were jumpsuits and his-and-hers nylon briefs***. Etiquetteer is persuaded by Rep. Kelley that “new rules for women would mirror the dress code language for men” and would argue that the men’s dress code is already more restrictive. Women bare their legs to whatever the fashionable hemline is. Male legislators don’t and daren’t; long trousers remain the expectation****. The jacket and long-sleeved shirt remain standard for businessmen, though some will try to get away with short sleeves.

Some have argued that we have more important things to talk about than women’s clothes, and we do. But Etiquetteer is tired of that argument. Universal interest in women’s clothes has eclipsed that of men’s for millennia, including by women. There’s an entire industry built up about people talking about women’s clothes. Right or wrong, it absorbs us. The point is, women are now seen much more for their amazing achievements than hitherto. Legendary US Senator Margaret Chase Smith (R-ME) is remembered for the fresh rose she wore in her lapel every day, but revered for her stand against evil US Senator Joseph McCarthy (R-WI). Her words have come down through History more than her accessories.

How might this have been handled with more Perfect Propriety? Is there some bipartisan women’s caucus in the Missouri State House? If not, it needs to get formed pronto so that issues like this can be discussed by those it affects directly before a floor vote. Really, people! This didn’t have to become part of the National Discussion. And while they’re caucusing, they can debate other issues of even greater importance to the women of Missouri, and just maybe make some significant bipartisan progress.

In summary, problems get solved with communication, what defines professional attire for women may still be interpreted more widely than for men, and while men may have opinions about what women wear, women will no longer tolerate being told what to wear by men. Etiquetteer is now going to retreat to the fitting room.

*Not the best choice of word, to be sure.

**This New York Times article about the kerfuffle includes some interesting details about dress codes in other state legislatures.

***Etiquetteer isn’t even going to bother laying a wreath on the graves of those trends.

***Etiquetteer was so interested to see that US Senator John Fetterman (D-PA), famous for his sweatshirts and cargo shorts, was sworn in looking Perfectly Proper in a new dark blue suit and necktie. It remains to be seen how much he’ll challenge the men’s dress code in the US Senate when it resumes business later this month.

Universal Letter Writing Week, Vol. 22, Issue 2

The second Sunday of January marks the start of Universal Letter Writing Week, a week that “encourages us to take up pen and paper and write to someone.” People have been lamenting the decline and fall of the Gentle Art of Letters since long before the arrival of email. But then, some people will lament anything, true or not. Stop lamenting, stop waiting for other to people to write to you, and start writing!

Etiquetteer is not going to tell you that electronic communication is bad, wrong, or Not Perfectly Proper. It’s just provided even more ways for us to ignore each other. No means of communication can be quick and easy if both parties don’t use it quickly and easily. But because electronic communication is more convenient for the large majority, good old-fashioned pen-and-paper letter writing has transformed from basic and essential to Special and Meaningful. We seem to save it for occasions like condolences, weddings, and, increasingly, letters of thanks after job interviews.

We make the ordinary extraordinary with a little more attention. Now that means pen and ink instead of texts and email. Think of the excitement of the Five Little Peppers when their mother brought out her stationery for them to write their first letter. “‘There, now I'm going to give you this,’ and she took out a small sheet of paper slightly yellowed by age; but being gilt-edged, it looked very magnificent to the five pairs of eyes directed to it.” Might we approach our desk drawers with the same sort of wonder now?

“But I don’t know what to say!” you will say. Well . . . think of a person you want to write and why they are important to you. Write that. Remember happy memories with that person and write that. Share what you are doing with your time. If you believe your daily life too dull to share, Etiquetteer would suggest a) making a few changes to your schedule, and b) including in your letter “Things would be so much more exciting if you were here!”

“But I have terrible handwriting!” you will say. Well . . . so does Etiquetteer. And anyway, when your recipient gets your letter, it may prompt them to call and say “I knew this letter had to be from you because I can’t read a word of it. But it was so lovely to hear from you that I had to call and find out what you said!” Hey presto, communication has been reestablished! Etiquetteer calls that a victory.

“But I just got done with all my Christmas cards!” you will say, exhausted. Well . . . perhaps you didn’t hear from someone you usually do during the holidays? Write them to share your affection and concern. Besides, Etiquetteer isn’t suggesting you write to your entire card list, only seven special people — friends, relatives, neighbors, colleagues — one day for Universal Letter Writing Week. Or write a letter every other day. Or even just one for the week! You will be contributing not only to your relationship with the recipient, but also to a world of Perfect Propriety.

Etiquetteer looks forward to hearing from you (in any format) with your progress, and especially your queries, on How to Write a Perfectly Proper Letter.

Spaghetti, Vol. 22, Issue 1

Staple comfort food, spaghetti sometimes defeats even skilled diners with its ability to fling tag ends and bits of sauce everywhere. January 4 being National Spaghetti Day, Etiquetteer was irresistibly reminded of the difficulty a course of “maccaroni” had for the English ladies in Elizabeth von Armin’s charming novel Enchanted April. “[Mrs. Fisher] found it difficult to eat—slippery, wriggling off her fork, making her look, she felt, undignified when, having got it as she supposed into her mouth, ends of it yet hung out.” Out of frustration she then commits the cardinal sin of cutting it bite-sized with a knife. “She was aware that knives in this connection were improper, but one did finally lose patience.”

When she saw her housemate Lottie confronting her pasta, “The word shovel crossed Mrs. Fisher’s mind in connection with Mrs. Wilkins’s actions at that moment.” And so you see the impact that our table manners have on our fellow diners.

Your most important weapon when battling a dish of spaghetti is not your fork, but your patience. Yes, it sometimes takes skill to twirl only a few strands of pasta around your fork and not half the bowl, but it’s worth the wait, and your skill will improve with practice. Yes, you may use a large spoon to help you out, bracing the fork tines in its bowl while you twirl the pasta. But this is still considered amateur according to purists, according to Letitia Baldrige, and “you will feel a great sense of achievement once you master the fork-only method of eating spaghetti.”*

In Enchanted April, Mrs. Fisher recalled Browning’s adeptness with “maccaroni” from watching him eat as a child. “Fascinating the way it went in. No chasing around the plate, no slidings off the fork, no subsequent protrusions of loose ends—just one dig, one whisk, one thrust, one gulp, and lo, yet another poet had been nourished.” That is the sort of confidence that comes from practice. And Etiquetteer knows you are up to the challenge.

Otherwise, just order the farfalle.

*New Manners for New Times: A Complete Guide to Etiquette, by Letitia Baldrige (2003).

Holiday Fallout, Vol. 21, Issue 69

Dear Etiquetteer:

Thank you for the Christmas columns. I found them quite invaluable!

For the coming year’s holidays, I have been wanting to know how to handle beloved yet wholly frustrating children who are completely inconsiderate because they are oblivious to everything and everyone around them.  As in:

• Guests are arriving, necessitating a shift of bedrooms, and Mom can’t change the bed linens for the guests until Adult Child #1 gets his stuff out of the way. Mom has asked three times via voice, text, and voicemail but there’s been no reply. Mom is forced to gather #1’s dirty laundry, shove it in some corner of the laundry room so she can prepare room for guests but this irks #1 to have the “private” space invaded.

• Adult Child #2 is due to arrive at some point but has not communicated when. Meanwhile, there’s that bedroom shifting issue to deal with as well as when to leave the back door unlocked for late arrival (alas, it was locked and Child #2 had to — horrors! — find their house key . . .). 

• Parents are planning dinner menus and specifically ask each Adult Child what they would like to have. With no reply, the usual dinner provisions are bought and prepared, to which one or both Adult Children say, “I ate already” or “I can’t eat that . . .” 

I call this rude and selfish but my husband thinks a better description is inconsiderate. I still think it’s unbelievably selfish. I’m wont to throw my hands up and scream, “WTF??!!!” but I’m sure you have a better solution.

Dear Frustrated:

Believe it or not, Henry Higgins offers the best advice in My Fair Lady: “If you can’t appreciate what you get, then you’d better get what you can appreciate!” Next year Mom and Dad’s Christmas gift to the Adult Children — their only gift — might be going on vacation and leaving them to their own devices. “Oh, and we’re closing the house, so you’ll need to make your own plans to stay elsewhere.” This is what Etiquetteer would call the Tough Love approach. And should they complain, be ready with examples of how their behavior led to their choice.

But should Mom and Dad actually want to continue celebrating Christmas with these Adult Children, expectations will need to be set no later than Hallowe’en about what they need to do for a smoothly run holiday everyone can enjoy. That means knowing arrival times at least 24 hours beforehand (Etiquetteer prefers even earlier than that, but we all know winter weather plays havoc), showing up hungry (or at least appearing to be hungry), and communicating dietary issues ahead of time. Which does not necessarily mean preferences. Etiquetteer rather misses when everyone just got a helping of Shut Up and Eat.

If people want a Beautiful Holiday, that means everyone has to do their part. And problems like this don’t get solved without communication. What you need is a good old-fashioned Family Council — preferably with all present in person, but videoconferencing has proved quite efficient* — in which Mom makes her case not just for what she needs people to do, but why. What you may learn, however, is that not everyone cares about a Beautiful Holiday. In that case, you’d best assure yours by booking your hotel rooms now.

Etiquetteer wishes your family a successful clearing of the air, and a beautiful Holiday of Your Choice in 2023.

Dear Etiquetteer:

This is gift related so perhaps appropriate for this time of year.

I recently made a new friend and we are still getting to know one another. I invited her over for tea and light hors d’oeuvres. She brought me a (very large) novel written by apparently her favorite writer but pointed out there was a gift receipt from [Insert Name of Bookstore Here] inside. I started to read it but quickly realized I didn’t like it and just couldn’t get into it.

I plan to return it. How can I tactfully explain this without offending her? I would like to continue our friendship. My husband thought I should just say nothing and hope the subject doesn’t come up when we meet again. I feel that would be awkward because I feel she will want to know how I liked it.

Your thoughts?

Dear Booked:

Etiquetteer understands your concern, but agrees with your husband. It isn’t necessary to volunteer the information unless your new friend asks. Indeed, some people feel it’s impolite to ask how a recipient liked their gift in case they didn’t.

But if your new friend does ask, it’s best to be truthful. It could prevent her from giving you more books by the same author! Just tell her what you told Etiquetteer — that you simply didn’t engage with the story — and share the kind of book you got instead, and why. Literature, like Art, is highly subjective, and there’s no sin in having diverging tastes. If there is something nice you can say about the first book — praise of a character or a turn of phrase — share it.

Etiquetteer wishes you many happy, comfortable conversations over tea with your new friend.

*As long as everyone knows how to use the technology.

Christmas Preparations, Vol. 21, Issue 68

For those who celebrate, the days remaining to Christmas may be counted on one hand. If you haven’t yet, here are a few things to check twice on your list for a Perfectly Proper Christmas.

• Evaluate your heirlooms for the table. This could mean anything from checking your tablecloth for holes or stains to counting out utensils so you have the right number to replacing chipped glasses. Etiquetteer has to figure out how to pry cork stoppers out of some old china salt and pepper shakers without breaking the corks or the shakers. It’s better to do these things before Christmas Eve. (For those who get confused about which is the salt and which the pepper, see Etiquetteer’s earlier column on the subject.)

• Make sure you have enough napkins. Dear Mother (may she rest in peace) made it her life’s mission to be sure everyone had a napkin, and this is rarely more important than at one of the Great Feasts. Some people feel mighty superior about having cloth napkins, and some people feel mighty superior about using paper napkins because they have better things to do than iron cloth ones. Etiquetteer isn’t going to take a side; just have more than sufficient Napkins of Your Choice for all your guests. And if you are using paper, get the Perfectly Proper dinner size, 17 by 17 inches, not the luncheon size, 13 by 13 inches. (You can read Etiquetteer’s advocacy for paper napkins here.)

• Brainstorm about travel plans. Oh, the weather outside is predicted to be especially frightful, so it may be helpful to anticipate what to do if someone’s flight is delayed or cancelled, the roads freeze, or even if COVID prevents someone with an essential part of the feast from coming. Think now about how to pivot to a backup plan; in almost any party situation that involves laughter and scrambled eggs.

• Consider placecards. People are, Etiquetteer believes, a bit more anxious than usual about Controversial Topics getting introduced. You may wish to assign seats at your table(s) to balance Those with Opposing Views between, shall we say, Neutral Parties.

• Perfect Propriety doesn’t always mean Perfection. Let’s face it, many of us have visions of Perfect Christmases with flawless decorations and dining tables, succulent meals of many courses, bright smiles all around, and that elusive thing, the Exactly Right Gift. Perfect Propriety is how you handle a situation when it goes wrong. Sometimes that’s laughter, sometimes it’s a hug, sometimes a private wink and toast with an ally, and sometimes a stern “This subject is an unwelcome one.” When the turkey is dry, the wine is spilt, the gift is, um, original — find the part of yourself that can say “Oh well, we did our best!”

Sarah Bernhardt’s motto comes in handy for the Great Feasts: Quand même, which means “It’s all the same” or “In spite of everything,” depending on how you translate it. It’s a lighter touch to Senator Elizabeth Warren’s “Nevertheless, she persisted.” And a lighter touch is what we need on Christmas Day.

So, since there will be no column this Sunday, allow Etiquetteer to wish you a Merry and Perfectly Proper Christmas quand même.

More on Declining Invitations, Vol. 21, Issue 67

Dear Etiquetteer:

I have a request! I am an old single man whose family has been dead for over 30 years. The holiday season is tolerable for me, but I try to avoid family groups. I go to a movie or two, I may take a walk around town, but I am accustomed to being alone on Christmas and that is fine with me.

I have been invited by a neighbor who is very dear to me to join her, three family members, and their friends for Christmas. I don’t want to go, but I do not want to offend my friend or her family by declining rudely. How can I decline gracefully without hurting feelings, please?

Dear Invited:

The perceived desirability of the Large Holiday Gathering has become so universal that those who really prefer to be alone are looked on as either pitiable or weird. Neither is true! There’s nothing wrong with a Holly Jolly Solitary Christmas, and Etiquetteer hopes very much that you enjoy yours.

Etiquetteer just loves your query because you truly see that your neighbor’s invitation is offered sincerely and kindly. Emphasize her kindness in your response while explaining that you prefer to spend Christmas in quiet contemplation. “I know it’s against the stereotype to be on one’s own for Christmas, but I have really come to enjoy having this day to myself. But I am so touched that you care enough about my well-being to want to include me in your own gathering. That means a lot, and I will lift a glass in your direction Christmas morning.”

If you want to soften the blow of your response by sending something edible the company can enjoy (like a tin of cookies or candies) that might be the frosting on the cake. Etiquetteer wishes you a Perfectly Proper Merry Christmas in Single Blessedness.

🎄🎄🎄

Readers had quite a bit to say about the person trying to get out of going to the holiday party that had turned into a murder mystery role playing evening. One facet of the situation that didn’t get covered is the timing. If the person is going to decline, that needs to happen immediately so that the hosts have enough time to invite/recruit/dragoon someone else to take that part. Usually these murder mystery games require a specific number of guests. (Charades may be played with any number.)

Two thirds of Etiquetteer’s Instagram followers voted to decline the invitation, while one third voted to go anyway. One reader replied “It’s nearly impossible to feign interest, let alone excitement, when doing something that is so uncomfortable for you. The discomfort just kind of leaks out all on its own.”

But Etiquetteer was also impressed with the selflessness of a Gentleman Reader’s choice to attend: “I hate parties. I hate games. I hate role playing. But I love my wife, and I feel friends are important . . . Suck it up and ‘put on your big boy pants.’ This is not a two-year round the world cruise.  It’s one evening with friends. Go to the party and do everything you can to make your wife and friends think you’re really enjoying it. At the end of the evening tell them both you honestly weren’t looking forward to it but it turned out to be more fun than you expected.  That might actually turn out to be true, but if it isn’t, say it anyway.”

To which Etiquetteer could only add, next year, be sure you see the invitation yourself before your spouse accepts it.