A gentleman’s guide to restaurant etiquette

Vinita Dawra Nangia

Once you know the rules of fine dining, there is no awkwardness in enjoying the meal and company. Perhaps there is a lesson in here for Saif

When you pick a restaurant, you choose not just the cuisine, but an entire experience. If you are feeling loud and boisterous, you opt for a pub or discotheque; if you crave a meaningful conversation, you choose a quiet bar, and if you wish to peoplewatch, you visit a 24-hour diner. But if you want a luxury meal in luxurious environs, you’d choose an expensive restaurant whose exclusivity and high-priced menu ensure a comfortable, secure environ and an experience to cherish. 

You don’t necessarily need a library for peace and quiet, as Saif Ali Khan argued with South African businessman Iqbal Meer Sharma last fortnight, before proceeding to knock his nose in. 

Most high-end restaurants are particular about the clientele they entertain in order to maintain whispered luxury that money alone can buy. For, when you dole out huge amounts, you are paying not just for the food, but for exclusivity and a unique experience. And when that faith is shattered, you feel cheated. 

When Sharma visited Japanese restaurant Wasabi at a Mumbai five star with his family, he did not expect a boisterous set of How to choose the perfect life partner! Bollywood celebrities to take centre stage. When they disturbed him with loud talk and laughter, he did the right thing by politely protesting before management. Not once, but thrice. 

Unfortunately, that had no impact on the boisterous bunch, who had probably decided that their celebrity status entitled them to carry along an atmosphere they wished. Wrong thinking. Not just a powerful star but a nawab to boot; how could Saif accept the diktat of a faceless businessman? He reacted — and the rest is reams of newspaper copy and audio-visual footage! 

The incident throws up interesting questions about restaurant etiquette. Was it right for the businessman to protest against the noisy table? Did Saif and company have the right to behave like they did? Should the restaurant have insisted on basic norms of discipline? Did they reserve the right to ask them to leave if they didn’t comply? 

How should a gentleman behave in a restaurant? Here is a guide: 

Choose a restaurant befitting your mood and that of your guests.

Book a table in advance. Do not hesitate to ask if you can expect a quiet meal.

Dress appropriately and arrive on time.

Always stand up when a lady joins you at the table, or when she leaves it.

At no point should you engage in loud arguments with the waiter or manager. If unhappy with anything, have an unobtrusive word to deal with it.

Do not wave cutlery around to emphasise a point or use a toothpick at the table.

Do not snap your fingers to call the waiter.

Do not be so loud that you disturb conversations at adjoining tables.

If disturbed by fellow diners or children, quietly complain to the manager, who should ideally deal with the situation effectively.

Be attentive to people at your table, listen to them and let them order their meal before you order yours.

Once seated, unfold the napkin and use it occasionally to wipe the tips of your fingers or mouth. At the end of the meal, leave your napkin folded on the left side of the plate.

Know your cutlery and glasses.

Bring food to your mouth, not your mouth to the food.

Loud slurping or munching sounds are a definite no.

Never stretch across for a dish; request for it to be passed to you.

You can rest your fork and knife on either side of the plate in between your meal. After the meal, place them side by side in the centre of the plate in the 4:20 position, fork tines up.

Do not talk with your mouth full or swivel your drink glass around.

Do not get drunk! A gentleman doesn’t go beyond one drink at a restaurant.

Never use your cell phone at the table.

Deal with any discrepancy in the bill quietly but effectively.

Do not appear to ponder too long over the bill or tip.

Resist using the fingerbowl like a washbasin. Dip your fingertips and bring them gently to your mouth.

Practise dining etiquette to enhance your enjoyment of the food and company!

Courtesy: Times of India

You are perfectly imperfect!

You are perfectly imperfect!

Vinita Dawra Nangia

To achieve perfection is not to be rigid and obsessive, but to let go and be yourself

You are perfectly average, quips the happy-go-lucky Kareena Kapoor to the uptight Imran Khan in Ek Main aur Ekk Tu. Understandably, he doesn’t know how to respond! To be average is anathema, but to be perfect at anything is considered wonderful — even if it is perfection at being average! 

Cut to Black Swan, a movie I recently saw again on TV. Nina Sayers (Natalie Portman), a ballerina competing for the lead role in Swan Lake, is found unsuitable for the dark role. She is too “frigid” and “perfect” in her performance. The director, Thomas Leroy advises her to stop being a perfectionist and to lose herself in her role, preferring passion over flawless technique. “Perfection is not just about control,” he says. “It is also about letting go…” 

We tend to look at perfection as achieving a ten on ten, doing something so well that it couldn’t be bettered! Such perfection spells the end of endeavour, of dreams, of aspiration. If in your mind you are perfect, the rest of life can at best be spent in maintaining and nurturing this perfection — that flawless skin, the perfect figure, the perfect score, that inimitable performance, a perfect musical rhythm or that perfect moment in time. Anything less would be disappointing. 

Why does perfection need to be a punishing routine, leading to obsessive, rigid behaviour? Why should it rely heavily on judgement, and exclude normal life? Obviously, it isn’t meant to be a human trait. Human beings are designed to have flaws; perfection is meant for the Gods. 

The quest for perfection actually is a search for certainty, for a sense of control. Anything that stays within specified limits is under our control. The moment shapes shift and take on a life of their own, we lose control and hence, power. We force ourselves to conform to set practices and standards to the extent we forget our true selves in the quest to be “perfect.” Here then is a new look at perfection. Let’s call it the perfectly imperfect! Perfectly normal. A letting go of rigidity, of fastidiousness, the obsession of being the best. To achieve perfection is not to be obsessive and punishing; it is a letting go and allowing natural flaws to be as they are. It is perfectly fine to be perfectly average! Imperfection is fluid, perfection is cast in stone. Progress requires imperfection. Cultures around the world have embraced the concept of the perfect imperfect, often introducing deliberate flaws in works of art, either for religious or aesthetic reasons. The world famous Amish quilt makers deliberately leave an imperfection in their quilts because God alone can be perfect. Turkish shipbuilders and carpet weavers reportedly do the same to remind themselves that perfection is the sole prerogative of Allah. One of the central principles of Islamic art is not to compete with God for perfection. 

Great sculptors in India always deliberately left a flaw in the statues they carved — controlled imperfection. If a sculptor was making a Nataraja, for example, and it was too near perfection, he would introduce a flaw, mostly breaking a toe or introducing a mark that spoilt the perfection a bit. This was true of all arts. In one sense, it is believed that all that the Mother Goddess creates is perfect, but pure perfection can only be She herself. 

Every Persian carpet included a God’s knot to indicate the weaver wasn’t even attempting perfection. Navajo rug weavers believe that the slight imperfection allows a route to creativity. 

The Japanese principle of wabisabi is well known — beauty that is imperfect, impermanent, and incomplete. Asymmetry and irregularity are deliberately introduced by the Japanese as a necessary ingredient of art. Zen potters deliberately leave glaze drips on pots as “controlled” imperfections to reinforce that “perfect is boring.” 

Nina in Swan Lake, when in complete touch with her dark side and no longer the rigid innocent, gives a sterling performance, after which she says, “I felt it. Perfect. It was perfect.” 

Courtesy: Times of India