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As a kid growing up in what some now consider the distant past, the rules at our house –- at least for the dinner table –- were well understood by those who sat at my father’s table. There were of course the obligatory “no-elbows-on-the-table” and no “lip-smacking” and no “horse-play” kinds of rules.  But mealtime was something of a special togetherness kind of time.  And etiquette was something that was not only taught and modeled but also practiced at every meal, no matter the occasion –- be it lunch, Sunday dinner or Christmas Eve.  You best know the rules, ‘cause if they were violated, there was a good chance that you could go to bed hungry, at the very least...  When I went to college and joined a fraternity, I was dumfounded when the housemother demanded that all freshmen partake of the table manners and etiquette sessions that she “offered” on Saturday afternoons.  I thought that everyone already knew these things! At least there were a few others who knew of these things; they weren’t just the whims of my parents.

My father grew up in a time when all men wore hats.  There were fedoras, top hats, straw hats, and derby hats –- hats of all sorts.  But there was one little piece of etiquette that was strictly followed: when one entered a building, the hat was removed. This was one rule that I absolutely did not question.  And if I had even thought of wearing a hat at the dinner table… well, it was something that I just never would have considered.  At the time, it was mainly due to the severity of the consequences I could expect.  Now I understand that it was a matter of manners, courtesy and, above all else, self-respect.  When I was involved in sports, my father used to tell me that "you'll play the game on the weekend in the same way that you practice during the week."  I now realize that phrase has meaning in many more applications...

Many years ago I worked in a very fine restaurant in southern California... one with white table clothes, silver and crystal and the like. It was an incredible experience, one where I first met my restaurant hero, Head Chef Joseph Insalago.  However, for the first time since I was out of college, I actually witnessed the unthinkable: not only were people coming in to a formal restaurant with what I had always considered to be informal attire, hats were being worn –- gasp -- inside the building.  I was told that since this was an area near a beach and marina, it was in fact acceptable.  I guess I accepted it… as just something California.  Moving back to the Midwest, I felt as if I had returned to some sort of normalcy. Things were pretty much as they had had been during my youth and collegiate years. The world really hadn’t lost their collective self-esteem, pride and common sense at the dinner table while I was gone, or at least so it seemed.

In the last five or six years however, I feel that I have witnessed the beginning of the fall of the civilized western world.  It started with… well, I’m not really sure where or when it all started.  What I do know is that it’s not just an occasionally-defiant teen-ager wearing butt-sagging jeans with his underwear showing, into his favorite burger joint.  Restaurant etiquette –- dining manners in general, by folks of almost all ages –- has taken a nose-dive. It seems that no matter where I go, I am confronted by torn and revealing clothes, poor table manners, screaming children throwing food onto the floor, egregious personal hygiene, rude and obnoxious behavior, cell phones ringing incessantly and, the coup-des-grâce for etiquette and manners that have been failing for years: the wearing of hats (mostly of the baseball variety) at the dinner table.  My father would roll over in his grave, so it’s probably a good thing that he can’t see it.  No one appears to be bothered by all this, and the only place that I see the sign “No Shoes, No Shirt, No Service” is on the door of the all-night convenient stores. Go figure.

Maybe families no longer give lessons in table manners.  Maybe parents just want to be their children’s friends and be “hip” instead of teaching them proper manners and etiquette or handing out appropriate discipline. Perhaps –- as my father used to frequently say –- “the world is going to hell in a hand basket.” 

Do what you wish to do in the privacy of your own home, but when it comes to going out in public, especially for dinner; at least try to pretend that you live in the “civilized” western world.  And then try to display some basic table manners. By the way, there is something else my father used to say: “If you can’t act or play the part, at least look the part.” So please, at the very least, remove your hat at the dinner table, at least you will look the part!

Ralph Pancetta
reviews@ralphpancetta.com