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Knife and Fork Etiquette


Mekong
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Is it just me or do others remember “The Rules” for knife and for placement before, during and after a meal. 
The paused and finished position were drilled into me as a kid, except pause in our house was quarter past nine handles on table.

It’s just that our lass keeps grabbing my plate saying finished when my knife and fork are in the paused position. I keep telling her, not finished my knife and fork don’t say that she looks at me as if I am from Mars as if to say “What the fuck are you on about” 

Once I showed her a website about this she just said “ stupid Farang rules” which to some extent she is probably right, the irrelevant crap we were taught as kids.

 

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Start, paused, finished - not the rest.

But then my mum and her sister, were from humble origins and always thought, that the upper classes were an achievable goal, for their kids...

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I found, from experience, that if you clench the knife carefully in your right hand, blade facing out, and growl a little that no one will take your plate until you actually finish.

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 Migrant,

In my experience that is how all Americans use cutlery, that calls for holding the knife, the beauty of the placement method is it is achieved hands free. 
I wouldn’t expect Americans to do such, uncouth race who swap fork hands to eat, and use it tines up. Many an American spy has been caught by this. I would hate to do a time and notion study on an American meal, what with that and incessant talking. Half the time you don’t bother with a heifer and fork and use you hands. You look funny to an Indian or an Arab shoving food into you mouth with your left hand. 
 

Coss,

As I said Stop, Pause and Stop for me, no idea about the others. My folks were working class with no designs of grandeur. Mums cooking was always excellent so no need for that one, and we only ever had one dish.

I summaries therefore it must be a civilised colonial habit.

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I also had the dubiously exalted, training as a Cordon Bleu Chef, this was done by matrons, no other word for them, think Hyacinth Bucket, who were flown from the UK to oversee, the assembled rich person's daughters and one horny kiwi bloke of 19, me.

They did not approve of me, or the speed, that I was rooting my way through, the rest of the class.

 

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