Chapter 5
While wine may be accounted indispensable by many, the growing sentiment in favor of its total banishment from the dinner-table has this effect on the etiquette of the case, that the neglect to provide wine for even a very formal dinner is not now the breach of good form which it would have been held to be some years ago. Such neglect has been sanctioned by the example of acknowledged social leaders; and when it is the exponent of a temperance principle it has the respect of every diner-out, whatever his private choice in the matter. No _gentleman_ will grumble at the absence of wine at his host's table. It is good form for a host to serve or _not_ serve wine, as he chooses; it is very bad form for his guest to comment on his choice. When any one who is conscientiously opposed to wine-drinking, or for any reason abstains, is present at a dinner where wine is served, he declines it by simply laying his hand on the rim of his glass as the butler approaches. No words are necessary. Apollinaris will take the place of stronger waters, and no embarrassment follows to either host or guest. As to the moral involved, a silent example may be quite as influential as an aggressive exhibition of one's principles. Questions of manners and morals are constantly elbowing one another, and it is a nice point to decide when and how far duty requires one to defy conventionality. It is safe to say that only in extreme cases is this ever necessary, or even permissible. The hostess who simply _does not offer wine to any guest under any circumstances_, is using her influence effectively and courteously, especially when she supplies the deficiency with delicious coffee and cocoa, fragrant tea, and, best and _rarest_ of all, crystal clear, sparkling cold water. By pointing out a "more excellent way," she is adding to her faith _virtue_.
MISCELLANEOUS POINTS
Extra knives and forks are brought in with any course that requires them. The preliminary lay-out is usually meant to provide all that the scheme of the dinner will call for; but one must have a goodly supply of silver and cutlery to avoid altogether the necessity for having some of it washed and returned to the table during the progress of the dinner. It is very desirable to be amply equipped, as it facilitates the prompt and orderly serving of the courses.
Fruit-knives are required, and ice-spoons, orange-spoons, and other unique conceits in silver utensils may be provided with the dessert, if one happens to own them; otherwise, plain forks and spoons do duty as required. The fork bears the chief burden of responsibility, being used for everything solid or semi-solid, leaving the spoon to the limited realm of soft custards and fruits that are so juicy as to elude the tines of the fork.
The knife is held in hand as little as possible, being used only when cutting is actually necessary, the fork easily separating most vegetables, etc. In the fish course, however, the knife is used to assist in removing the troublesome small bones.
In holding the knife the fingers should not touch the blade, except that the forefinger rests upon the upper edge not far below the shank when the cutting requires some firmness of pressure. The dinner knife should be sharp enough to perform its office without too much muscular effort, or the possible accident of a duck's wing flying unexpectedly "from cover" under the ill-directed stress of a despairing carver's hand. I have seen the component parts of a fricasseed chicken leave the table, not _untouched_--oh! no; every one had been _sawing_ at it for a half-hour--but uneaten it certainly was, for obvious reasons. The cutlery was pretty, but practically unequal to even spring chicken.
The fork is held with the tines curving downward, that position giving greater security to the morsel, and is raised laterally, the points being turned, as it reaches the mouth, just enough to deposit the morsel between the slightly-parted lips. During this easy movement the elbow scarcely moves from its position at the side, a fact gratefully appreciated by one's next neighbor. What is more awkward than the arm projected, holding the fork pointing backward at a right angle to the lips, the mouth opening wide like an automatic railway gate to an approaching locomotive--the labored and ostentatious way in which food is sometimes transported to its destination? Nor, once in the mouth, is it lost to sight forever. Other people, seated opposite, are compelled to witness it in successive stages of the grinding process, as exhibited by the constant opening and shutting of the mouth during mastication, or laughing and talking with the mouth full--faults of heedless people of energetic but not refined manners.
Liquids are sipped from the side of the spoon, without noise or suction. In serving vegetables the tablespoon is inserted laterally, not "point first."
Celery is held in the fingers, asparagus also, unless the stalks are too tender. Green corn may be eaten from the cob, a good set of natural teeth being the prime requisite. It may be a perfectly graceful performance if daintily managed.
The management of fruits in the dessert is another test of dainty skill. Oranges may be eaten in different ways. Very juicy fruit may be cut in halves across the sections and scooped out with a spoon. The drier "seedless" oranges are better peeled and separated. With a fruit knife, remove the tough skin of each peg, leaving enough dry fiber to hold it by, in conveying it to the mouth. Practice enables one easily to "make way with" an orange. Bananas are cut in two, the skin removed; the fruit is held in the fingers, or--preferably--eaten with a fork. Juicy pears and peaches may be managed in the same way, at discretion, the rule being that the fingers should touch as little as possible fruits that are decidedly mushy.
The finger-bowl stands ready to repair all damages of the nature suggested. The fingers are dipped in the water and gently rinsed, and then passed lightly over the lips, and both mouth and fingers are wiped upon the napkin.
At a signal from the hostess, the ladies rise and return to the drawing-room. The gentlemen follow immediately, or remain a short time for another glass of wine, when such is the provision of the host.
DINNER-TABLE TALK
The conversation at the dinner-table should be general, unless the company is large, and the table too long to admit of it. But in any case, each one is responsible first of all for keeping up a pleasant chat with his or her partner, and not allowing that one to be neglected while attention is riveted on some aggressively brilliant talker at the other end of the table. No matter how uninteresting one's partner may be, one must be thoughtful and entertaining; and such kind attention may win the life-long gratitude of a timid _debutante_, or the equally unsophisticated country cousin.
Dinner-table talk should be affable. The host and hostess must be alert to turn the conversation from channels that threaten to lead to antagonisms of opinion; and each guest should feel that it is more important just now to make other people happy than to gratify his impulse to "floor" them on the tariff question. In short, at dinner, as under most social conditions, the watchword ever in mind should be, "Not to myself alone."
INFORMAL DINNERS
The informal dinner, daily served in thousands of refined American homes, is a much less pretentious affair than the name "dinner" technically implies. In most cases the service is but partially _a la Russe_, most courses, and all the _entrees_, being set on the table, the serving and "helping" being done by some member of the family; the presence of a waitress being sometimes dispensed with except at transition points; as, when the table is cleared before the dessert. This formality is the most decided dinner feature of the meal, which throughout its progress has been conducted more like a luncheon. Yet, in all essential points of mannerliness, the family dinner is governed by the same rules that control the formal banquet.
It is perhaps needless to remark that the _diner a la Russe_ in its perfection cannot be carried out without a number of competent servants. These may be hired when some special occasion warrants extra preparations for due formality. But for customary "entertaining," those who "live quietly," with possibly but one domestic to assist with the dinner, will show good sense in not attempting anything more imposing than they are able to compass successfully. The "family dinner" has a dignity of its own when in keeping with all the conditions; and though its _menu_ may be simple, its service unpretentious, it may be the gracious exponent of a hospitality "fit for a king."
At the informal dinner it is customary to seat the guests in the order in which they enter the dining-room, without assigning any place of distinction; all the places at table being held of equal honor--comfort and convenience being the things chiefly considered.
LUNCHEONS
The most elastic word in the whole vocabulary of entertaining is the term _luncheon_. It is applied to a mid-day meal occurring any time between 11 A. M. and 3 P. M., and may mean anything, from a brilliant _a la Russe_ banquet, to the hastily gathered together fragments left from yesterday's dinner.
It may describe an hour of absolute leisure, and the most delightful conversational interchange, or it may signify the five minutes' grab from the side-board between the games of a closely-contested amateur tennis tournament.
In general, we may say that the most formal of luncheons, resembling the dinner in the main features of its serving, has these points of distinction; the number of guests is irregular, usually uncertain, they go to the table singly; they come dressed in any way that the hour of the day, or their recent occupations warrant--men dropping in dressed for business or sporting, and ladies in promenade costumes, with bonnets or hats; the hour is not rigidly fixed,--luncheon, being largely of cold dishes, is not spoiled by a half-hour's tardiness--a late comer is greeted as cordially as the first arrival; and "the more the merrier" seems to be the motto of the hostess who keeps "open house" at luncheon time.
The formal luncheons for which engraved invitations are issued, are usually "ladies' luncheons;" and the formality of the serving is equalled by the elegance of the toilets. Men have little leisure for day-time entertainments, except during the brief outing at some summer resort, where the easy-going lunch is the ruling fashion.
The _menu_ of the cold luncheon may present great variety, and provide for many guests with little trouble. For a smaller, or more definite, number a hot luncheon may be prepared--a tender steak with mashed potatoes and asparagus, or something equally simple--and a dessert of cakes, ice-cream, and fruits; in all respects a little "informal dinner."
The large buffet luncheon, like the four o'clock tea, gives opportunity for displaying all the pretty china that one owns. Flowers and fruits may decorate the table or tables, and the most artistic effects may be secured by a little attention to blending and grouping. A hostess _who knows how_ can make her rooms look like a festal bower for these occasions without much money outlay; and if she also is clever in the compounding of made dishes and salads, she can give luncheons that are remembered as the epitome of good style, albeit the bills for the same were surprisingly small. Such a gifted woman enjoys a sense of exultation that is unknown to her richer sister, who merely fills out a cheque for the cost and leaves all else to the caterer, as one must, when the luncheon is given at a club or tea room.
In general, the buffet luncheon is much the same on all occasions, when entertaining large companies at home. The difference is not so much in the way of serving, as in the kind of refreshments proffered. The tea may be a light affair, if you will; merely a bit and a sip for good fellowship. But the luncheon is one of the solid meals of the day, requiring something substantial. Such sustaining things as chicken salad, appetizing sandwiches, bouillon (hot or jellied), cold sliced ham, with relishes, as celery, olives, seasonable fruits, etc., satisfy the normal hunger at noontime; and delicious cakes and ices with coffee make a festal finale. Almost any attractive luncheon dish may be included, preferably things that are not hurt by standing; as the luncheon service for a large party fills an hour or two. For this reason, coffee is the most manageable beverage to serve.
The refreshments are arranged on the dining-table. A fine table-cloth may be used; or handsome doylies if the table itself is of handsome finish. The salad bowl is set on one side, the platters of sandwiches, etc., on the other; with the coffee urn at one end, the ices at the other, if there is room; otherwise, the cake and ices are served from a side table. Another side table is desirable, to hold the stacks of dishes and napkins.
As the hostess must give her entire attention to receiving her guests, she intrusts the oversight of the dining-room to several matrons, who are aided by a bevy of the younger girls (the young men also, at an evening party). At the proper time these young people pass the napkins and plates (usually with the salad already served) to the guests scattered around the rooms. Other things are promptly brought, the coffee being served immediately after, by another set of helpers. Since all cannot be seated, small tables placed here and there in the suite of rooms will give the standing ones a chance to set a coffee cup down now and then. Candy in tiny reception sticks may be passed with the cake; or bonbon dishes may be set in unexpected places about the rooms, where any one who discovers them may nibble at will.
The family waitress, with extra help if needed, should be in attendance near the dining-room exit, to receive the used dishes and remove them at once from the scene. This is a nice point; for a congestion of dishes in the dining-room spoils the effect of an otherwise well-managed service. The maid will also keep the stack of plates, etc., replenished; and she will carry back and forth from the pantry the salad bowl and platters for replenishing.
Cutlery is limited to a fork for the salad, a spoon for the coffee, and a fork or spoon for the ice cream. The ices may be in fancy individual shapes, if one chooses to take that much trouble; but the brick, brought in ready sliced for serving, is always suitable, and easier to manage.
Much of this is so generally understood that further details seem superfluous. The least experienced hostess need not be overanxious about small points, if the general order is observed; for luncheon guests are a genial crowd, and nobody notices little mishaps. I am assuming that your guests are all very nice people, in sympathy with you, and aiding you to the extent of their ability to make things pleasant. Those who have this sincere disposition need no instruction in behavior. Each one's conduct will be guided by her own instinctive sense of propriety. One who is habitually polite is not likely to make any blunders at a luncheon, since there are no rigid conventionalities to be infringed.
If the luncheon hour is much past noon, the guests should be careful not to remain too long after, as they might thus be detaining the hostess from later afternoon engagements.
SUPPERS
A supper is a late evening meal, and may be an entertainment by itself, or be served in connection with some social event. A supper is understood to consist prevailingly of hot dishes, which distinguishes the supper from the collation--which might be served on similar occasions--and which is mainly of cold dishes. The distinction is not absolute, however.
A formal supper, or banquet, is served _a la Russe_, and resembles the dinner in its general conduct; but instead of the heavy roast and vegetables, the game is the conspicuous course, and various preparations of oysters, lobster, terrapin, etc., crowd the _menu_ card, with salads of all kinds. Nine o'clock is a fashionable hour for the sit-down supper. The supper served at a dance or a reception is timed to suit the leading features of the evening. The _menu_ for these "crush" suppers covers the ground of the hot supper and the cold collation combined, and there are few things within the range of dainty cookery that are not permissible.
The most "social" and enjoyable suppers--with the doctor's permission--are those that are served an home after the hostess and her guests have returned from the theatre or opera, lecture or concert. Tiny biscuit, sandwiches, fried oysters, chicken salad, and golden coffee, with ice-cream and some superior cake, served like a luncheon, make a supper easily arranged, and one which winds up a pleasant evening in a very satisfactory way.
BREAKFASTS
A formal breakfast has little distinctive character. It differs very slightly from an early luncheon, except that the viands are more distinctly breakfast dishes; as, toast, hot muffins, omelettes and other preparations of eggs, delicate farinaceous foods, _cafe au lait_, etc. If it is the veritable breaking of the fast the guests must be very late risers indeed, as 11 o'clock, or even 12, noon, is a fashionable hour for this so-called breakfast, which is a phase of social entertaining reserved for the "leisure class," or only at odd intervals possible to people of active pursuits. The morning hours are precious to the hurried man of business, and the care-environed housekeeper; and "promptness and dispatch" is the motto of the breakfast table in most houses.
The _real_ breakfast of everyday life is the meal where we least expect to meet guests--unless it be some one who is staying at the house. It is a rare thing for a friend to "drop in" to breakfast, and to invite him to do so is perhaps the rarest expression of hospitality, and will probably remain so, while we remain a nation of brain and hand workers.
During the summer vacation, when we pause for a breathing spell, no more charming hospitality can be offered than a dainty breakfast, especially in the country. It may be the preliminary to an all-day house party, or a picnic excursion; or the breakfast may be the goal of an early morning drive by carriage or motor, and the hour may be early or late, just as you please; for is not vacation a period of emancipation from the tyranny of the clock? But let not the hour be too early, for tired people are heavy sleepers; yet not too late either, lest the heat of the sun may have become too suggestive of the approaching noon-tide; late enough for weary eyelids to unclose willingly, early enough for the fresh dewy odor still to cling to the vines on the porch.
The conventional breakfast in town is given very seldom as compared with dinners and luncheons. It is peculiarly a holiday hospitality, reserved until the men are at leisure; for breakfast without the man of the house would be Hamlet with the prince left out.
There is another significant distinction: the guests are chosen from the inner circle. When, on Christmas morning, Mr. and Mrs. A. entertain Mr. and Mrs. B. and Mr. and Mrs. C. at breakfast, we infer at once their intimate friendship and congenial companionship. One may lunch impersonally with comparative strangers; one may dine formally touching elbows with one's dearest foe but one does not of choice breakfast with any one but a friend, or a friend of a friend--graciously accepted on trust. Breakfast is the most intimate breaking of bread; not even the festive elaboration can make the friendly breakfast seem like anything but "playing at" formality. The service is essentially the same as it usually is in that household, except that the children are not at the table. The more homelike it is, the better; for home atmosphere is revealed as at no other meal, and on no other occasion can a visitor be made to feel so entirely "one of the family."
The guests remain but a short time after a breakfast, chatting in a leisurely way, but leaving rather promptly.
The problem of the family breakfast is complicated by the modern stress of business life. In suburban towns the typical "commuter" must flee away with little ceremony; for the 7:08 will not wait, and the 7:10 is a way train. In most families breakfast is on the European plan, so to speak. For this very reason, perhaps, the occasional holiday breakfast is the more attractive. With no train to "catch," no boat to "make," no office hours to "keep," no demon of driving work to lash one to the treadmill, how delightful to be able to breakfast with the serenity of the genial "Autocrat" himself; and how very odd it seems to find oneself sociably disposed at this unwonted hour! May it not convey the gentle admonition that we might be more social every day, if we only thought so?
Psychologically, the breakfast is peculiar. It is the first commingling of the day; and whether it be the late holiday feast, or the usual family gathering, it sets the pace for the twenty-four hours. A cheerful start in the morning may give an optimistic momentum for all-day hill-climbing; or, one may slip dejectedly down hill if leaden-weighted with a "morning grouch" (one's own, or somebody else's). Even fellow "boarders" might reflect on this, with profit. Preoccupied with our own affairs, we forget to be mutually considerate. We habitually wake to rush and worry, taking social recreation chiefly at the close of day, when too weary to appreciate it. Might it not sometimes be well to get ourselves into a good humor the first thing in the morning, and then work afterward? Few people are of such a happy, self-contained disposition that they do not need the sustaining influence of other cheerful spirits. Most of us would have more of sunshine in our hearts if the first business of the morning had been to put ourselves in harmony with our fellow-creatures socially. And if we cannot do this every day, nor even often, according to our ideal, we at least doubly appreciate the rare occasions when it has been possible, and we feel impulsively grateful to the hostess whose thoughtful kindness has made our holiday so bright at its dawning. Other ways of entertaining may be more imposing; none are more delightful. Bid whom you will to dine with you, but ask me to _breakfast_.
EVENING PARTIES
This general term includes a variety of social entertainments, and suggests all degrees of formality, from the stately reception to the "surprise party." With a range so varied, classification is not readily made. Some features are always present: a host and hostess always receive; a guest always first pays his respects to his entertainers, and then mingles agreeably with the throng. He makes himself useful in any way that tact and courtesy suggest. Supper is served, usually the buffet collation. It is more formal, and less confusing, if the guests go to the dining-room--convenient numbers at a time--instead of being served in the parlors, as at a luncheon. On formal occasions professional readers and musicians are often engaged as entertainers. Sometimes the amusement is furnished by clever amateurs among the guests, who may read, sing, or whistle, or what not. In a circle where all are well acquainted, some of the pleasantest evening parties are those to the success of which each one contributes his mite, cheerfully singing in the chorus when nature has denied him a solo voice, and not allowing any dark jealousy of superior gifts to deprive the harmony of his one little note.