My dinner guests will need reminding of how to behave in Good Society

It’s been a long time since I’ve had people over to dinner; every chair occupied around the table. Food. Wine. Conversation. Ever-frequent absences for sly cigarettes. Cheese. More wine. More talk. The candles guttering down; the volume of conversation going up; someone asking, “Is there any wine left?”

A lot of things have changed for all of us since I last had people to my house. For instance, many of my friends are strongly hinting that they have since transformed into some class of cavemen, and have beards/hair styles that now fall to the ground, or garments they never change out of, if indeed they still wear any at all. These same friends tell me they now eat with their hands, and start fires by rubbing two sticks together. And also: what is a dinner table? Have I not become acquainted with the biggest table of all, the floor?

So it was with them in mind I embarked upon a refresher course on the art of giving a dinner party, to be ready for when the post-lockdown times come. I consulted an invaluable book on one of my kitchen shelves that I found in a charity shop, back in the days when shops that sold things other than essential items were open.

It’s called Manners and Rules of Good Society, and the unnamed author is coyly described as “A Member of the Aristocracy”. This book was first published in 1885, and was so popular that it had gone through a 25th edition by 1901. Lest you think that these manners and rules of good society only pertained to the fine and fancy people of that era on the other side of the Irish Sea, there is an entire chapter devoted to “Presentations at the Vice-Regal Court, Dublin Castle”.

Moufida Tlatli obituary: Groundbreaker in Arab film

---

Hilary Fannin: The St Patrick’s Day parade taught me I was Irish

---

Róisín Ingle: Social distancing, the 2m kind, is so 2020

---

Michael Harding: I’m afraid of the sea, horses and dense woods

---

Ladies are not supposed to require a second glass of wine

Anyway, dinners. There are chapters on “Dinner Giving and Dining Out”; “Dinner-Table Etiquette” and “Evening Parties”. (There is also one on “Shaking Hands”, something we no longer have any need for.)

There is also a lot about servants. Mine are all currently on the pandemic unemployment payment, on account of my having no guests to entertain. Namely, the servant who usually takes ladies cloaks on arrival. The butler who stands on my narrow staircase and announces the names of the guests on arrival. The servants who serve the grub, not to mention the legions who have spent all day cooking it.

And so to dinner. The evolution of man has been on pause this past year, and with many of my friends regressing to the neanderthal stage, they may need some reminders of how to behave in Good Society.

Soup. “In older days, it was customary to drink it out of a basin. In these days, no one ‘drinks’ soup, it is ‘eaten’ whether it be mock turtle or the clearest julienne.” Got that, guests? You will be eating your mock turtle soup in my house, not drinking it. Do you know what it is, by the way? Made from vast quantities of brains and calf heads and feet.

Onto the poultry course. Look away now, BirdWatch Ireland. “As regards golden plovers, larks, snipe, etc, the proper way to eat these birds is to cut the meat from the breast and wings.”

Perhaps we'll all be so unused to having dinners in Good Society again post lockdown that we'll need those carriages sent round early

How does one tackle peas? “It need hardly be said that it would be a vulgarity to eat peas with a knife, although those who are in the habit of travelling on the continent are not unaccustomed to seeing this done by foreigners who are well-bred men.” Here, I confess I am confused. What is travelling? What is this place called “the continent”?

“Ladies are not supposed to require a second glass of wine.” Sorry, ladies. That’s what the etiquette book says. More for the rest of us, though. (Obviously, as hostess, I can break my own rules.)

“Pines should be eaten with knife and fork.” That’s pineapples. Not pine cones. But melons “should be eaten with a spoon and fork”. I will be watching.

Finally, going home. “Half past ten is the usual hour for general departures.” That will be news for my all-nighter guests, who have a habit of staying until long past midnight.

Mind you, perhaps we’ll all be so unused to having dinners in Good Society again post lockdown that we’ll need those carriages sent round early. I will start planning my menu today in hope. It may take time to source all the ingredients for Mock Turtle Soup.