The Table Manners That Matter
Whether it's an anniversary splurge at L'Espalier or taco night at El Pelon, dining out means navigating a few more potential pitfalls than choosing the right fork.
What you owe your dining companions.
Be a decider. When picking a restaurant, don't be that "Oh, I don't know, whatever you're in the mood for" waffler. If no one else has an idea about where to go, take charge. Name three places and ask everyone to choose. To have those names on hand, keep a list of tried-and-true favorites and new places that you'd like to go in your BlackBerry (or your notebook, or, if you're under 25 and can actually remember things, in your head). If location is key, Google Maps is your friend. You can type in any address, ask for nearby restaurants, and get all kinds of good ideas.
Be prompt. And if you can't, call and let folks know to start without you or order for you. It's not fair to your companions or the waitstaff for everyone to be taking up a table, consuming way more bread or booze than they intended, waiting for you to show up.
Remember you are in public. How many meals do you eat in the car, at your desk, in front of the television? Eating alone makes it easy to slip into bad habits (chewing with our mouths open, picking our teeth, slurping). Then we forget, when we're eating out, that the people in front of us are not television characters and can actually see us. And the sight of a human being ingesting food is generally not an aesthetically pleasing one. Do what you can to make it as inoffensive as possible, even if this means forgoing traditional rules of etiquette. If you really can't use chopsticks, don't try. Ask for a fork. If you have shaky hands, use a straw, spoon your soup toward you rather than away, and tie your napkin around your neck.
Be clear on who's treating whom. Friends who dine out frequently need to develop a protocol and comfort level about separate checks, splitting the bill, or taking turns picking up the tab. They should also feel free to discuss whether everyone's feeling flush enough to go to the chi-chi new Back Bay bistro, or whether cheap and cheerful is the theme of the night. In general, friends with different income levels should go for places that the least wealthy can afford. But the less well-off shouldn't come over all poor-but-proud when they get an offer: The correct response to "Capital Grille, my treat?" is "You betcha!"
What you owe the waitstaff.
Acknowledge their humanity. You don't have to ask them about their hopes and dreams, but look at them when they address you, smile, and say "Please" and "Thank you." Servers are people. They are your college roommates, your children, perhaps your past self. Treat them as such.
Communicate clearly. Don't dither. If you haven't made up your mind, ask the server to come back. If you want changes from what's on the menu, ask if it's possible (don't demand) before you place your order. If you don't know how to pronounce something, don't be embarrassed. Ask, or just point to it on the menu. Your server can only fulfill your desires to the extent that he or she can comprehend them.
Tip well. This means 15 to 20 percent on the total bill, including drinks. Stop whining now. It's not as if the concept of tipping was sprung on you after the fact. "What is this strange custom, 'tipping,' of which you speak?" Yes, waitstaff should be paid a living wage so they don't have to rely on tips, but we don't enact social change by hurting the people we claim to want to benefit.
What you owe yourself.
Eat what you want. Don't get the most expensive thing on the menu if someone else is paying (unless they ordered it, too). Aside from that, enjoy yourself. If you're on a diet, either stick to it or don't. Don't order dessert and then berate yourself for 15 minutes to take all the pleasure out of it. Don't be embarrassed to get the same thing every time if you like it. Don't feel obliged to impress people by ordering the most exotic or avant-garde or low-calorie dish on the menu - if you want the cheeseburger, get it!
And taste it. Someone worked hard to make that dish - take the time to enjoy it properly. You're not cramming down a PowerBar so your blood sugar doesn't crash. You're eating out. Enjoy the conversation. Enjoy the decor. Enjoy eavesdropping on fellow diners. Enjoy the food.
Enjoy.
Robin Abrahams, a.k.a. Miss Conduct, covers etiquette and manners for the Globe Magazine. Send comments to magazine@globe.com.
