The Vintage Dinner Party

On the Importance of Dinner Engagements

2012-01-09T08:59:00.000-08:00

Dinner invitations must be answered immediately; engraved or written ones by return post, or those which were telephoned, by telephone and at once! Also, nothing but serious illness or death or an utterly unavoidable accident can excuse the breaking of a dinner engagement.

To accept a dinner at Mrs. Nobody's and then break the obligation upon being invited to dine with the Worldlys, proclaims anyone capable of such rudeness an unmitigated snob, whom Mrs. Worldly would be the first to cut from her visiting list if she knew of it. The rule is: "Don't accept an invitation if you don't care about it." Having declined the Nobody invitation in the first place, you are then free to accept Mrs. Worldly's, or to stay at home. There are times, however, when engagements between very close friends or members of the family may perhaps be broken, but only if made with the special stipulation: "Come to dinner with us alone Thursday if nothing better turns up!" And the other answers, "I'd love to--and you let me know too, if you want to do anything else." Meanwhile if one of them is invited to something unusually tempting, there is no rudeness in telephoning her friend, "Lucy has asked us to hear Galli-Curci on Thursday!" and the other says, "Go, by all means! We can dine Tuesday next week if you like, or come Sunday for supper." This privilege of
intimacy can, however, be abused. An engagement, even with a member of one's family, ought never to be broken twice within a brief period, or it becomes apparent that the other's presence is more a fill-in of idle time than a longed-for pleasure.

How A Dinner List Is Kept

2011-09-21T07:16:00.000-07:00

Nearly every hostess keeps a dinner list—apart from her general visiting list—of people with whom she is accustomed to dine, or to invite to dinner or other small entertainments. But the prominent hostess, if she has grown daughters and continually gives parties of all sorts and sizes and ages, usually keeps her list in a more complete and "ready reference" order.

Mrs. Gilding, for instance, has guest lists separately indexed. Under the general heading "Dinners," she has older married, younger married, girls, men. Her luncheon list is taken from her dinner list. "Bridge" includes especially good players of all ages; "dances," young married people, young girls, and dancing men. Then she has a cross-index list of "Important Persons," meaning those of real distinction who are always the foundation of all good society; "Amusing," usually people of talent—invaluable for house parties; and "New People," including many varieties and un-assorted. Mrs. Gilding exchanges invitations with a number of these because they are interesting or amusing, or because their parties are diverting and dazzling. And Mrs. Gilding herself, being typical of New York's Cavalier element rather than its Puritan strain, personally prefers diversion to edification. Needless to say, "Boston's Best," being ninety-eight per cent. Puritan, has no "new" list. Besides her list of "New People," she has a short "frivolous" list of other Cavaliers like herself, and a "Neutral" list, which is the most valuable of all because it comprises those who "go" with everyone. Besides her own lists she has a "Pantry" list, a list that is actually made out for the benefit of the butler, so that on occasions he can invite guests to "fill in." The "Pantry" list comprises only intimate friends who belong on the "Neutral" list and fit in everywhere; young girls and young and older single men.

Allowing the butler to invite guests at his own discretion is not quite as casual as it sounds. It is very often an unavoidable expedient. For instance, at four o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Blank telephones that he cannot come to dinner that same evening. Mrs. Gilding is out; to wait until she returns will make it too late to fill the place. Her butler who has been with her for years knows quite as well as Mrs. Gilding herself exactly which people belong in the same group. The dinner cards being already in his possession, he can see not only who is expected for dinner but the two ladies between whom Mr. Blank has been placed, and he thereupon selects some one on the "Pantry" list who is suitable for Mr. Blank's place at the table, and telephones the invitation. Perhaps he calls up a dozen before he finds one disengaged. When Mrs. Gilding returns he says, "Mr. Blank telephoned he would not be able to come for dinner as he was called to Washington. Mr. Bachelor will be happy to come in his place." Married people are seldom on this list, because the butler need not undertake to fill any but an odd place—that of a gentleman particularly. Otherwise two ladies would be seated together.

Taste in Selecting Your Dinner Guests

2010-02-16T17:30:00.001-08:00

The proper selection of guests is the first essential in all entertaining, and the hostess who has a talent for assembling the right people has a great asset. Taste in house furnishings or in clothes or in selecting a cook, is as nothing compared to taste in people! Some people have this "sense"—others haven't. The first are the great hosts and hostesses; the others are the mediocre or the failures.

It is usually a mistake to invite great talkers together. Brilliant men and women who love to talk want hearers, not rivals. Very silent people should be sandwiched between good talkers, or at least voluble talkers. Silly people should never be put anywhere near learned ones, nor the dull near the clever, unless the dull one is a young and pretty woman with a talent for listening, and the clever, a man with an admiration for beauty, and a love for talking.

Most people think two brilliant people should be put together. Often they should, but with discretion. If both are voluble or nervous or "temperamental," you may create a situation like putting two operatic sopranos in the same part and expecting them to sing together.

The endeavor of a hostess, when seating her table, is to put those together who are likely to be interesting to each other. Professor Bugge might bore you to tears, but Mrs. Entomoid would probably delight in him; just as Mr. Stocksan Bonds and Mrs. Rich would probably have interests in common. Making a dinner list is a little like making a Christmas list. You put down what they will (you hope) like, not what you like. Those who are placed between congenial neighbors remember your dinner as delightful—even though both food and service were mediocre; but ask people out of their own groups and seat them next to their pet aversions, and wild horses could not drag them to your house again!

How A Dinner Can Be Bungled

2009-11-29T19:03:00.000-08:00

This is the contrasting picture to the dinner at the Worldly's—a picture to show you particularly who are a bride how awful an experiment in dinner giving can be.

Let us suppose that you have a quite charming house, and that your wedding presents included everything necessary to set a well-appointed table. You have not very experienced servants, but they would all be good ones with a little more training.

You have been at home for so few meals you don't quite know how experienced they are. Your cook at least makes good coffee and eggs and toast for breakfast, and the few other meals she has cooked seemed to be all right, and she is such a nice clean person!

So when your house is "in order" and the last pictures and curtains are hung, the impulse suddenly comes to you to give a dinner! Your husband thinks it is a splendid idea. It merely remains to decide whom you will ask. You hesitate between a few of your own intimates, or older people, and decide it would be such fun to ask a few of the hostesses whose houses you have almost lived at ever since you "came out." You decide to ask Mrs. Toplofty, Mr. Clubwin Doe, the Worldlys, the Gildings, and the Kindharts and the Wellborns. With yourselves that makes twelve. You can't have more than twelve because you have only a dozen of everything; in fact you decide that twelve will be pretty crowded, but that it will be safe to ask that number because a few are sure to "regret." So you write notes (since it is to be a formal dinner), and—they all accept! You are a little worried about the size of the dining-room, but you are overcome by the feeling of your popularity. Now the thing to do is to prepare for a dinner. The fact that Nora probably can't make fancy dishes does not bother you a bit. In your mind's eye you see delicious plain food passed; you must get Sigrid a dress that properly fits her, and Delia, the chambermaid (who was engaged with the understanding that she was to serve in the dining-room when there was company), has not yet been at table, but she is a very willing young person who will surely look well.

Nora, when you tell her who are coming, eagerly suggests the sort of menu that would appear on the table of the Worldlys or the Gildings. You are thrilled at the thought of your own kitchen producing the same. That it may be the same in name only, does not occur to you. You order flowers for the table, and candy for your four compotiers. You pick out your best tablecloth, but you find rather to your amazement that when the waitress asks you about setting the table, you have never noticed in detail how the places are laid. Knives and spoons go on the right of the plate, of course, and forks on the left, but which goes next to the plate, or whether the wine glasses should stand nearer or beyond the goblet you can only guess. It is quite simple, however, to give directions in serving; you just tell the chambermaid that she is to follow the waitress, and pass the sauces and the vegetables. And you have already explained carefully to the latter that she must not deal plates around the table like a pack of cards, or ever take them off in piles either. (That much at least you do know.) You also make it a point above everything that the silver must be very clean; Sigrid seems to understand, and with the optimism of youth, you approach the dinner hour without misgiving. The table, set with your wedding silver and glass, looks quite nice. You are a little worried about the silver—it does look rather yellow, but perhaps it is just a shadow. Then you notice there are a great many forks on the table! You ask your husband what is the matter with the forks? He does not see anything wrong. You need them all for the dinner you ordered, how can there be less? So you straighten a candlestick that was out of line, and put the place cards on.

Then you go into the drawing-room. You don't light the fire until the last moment, because you want it to be burning brightly when your guests arrive. Your drawing-room looks a little stiff somehow, but an open fire more than anything else makes a room inviting, and you light it just as your first guest rings the bell. As Mr. Clubwin Doe enters, the room looks charming, then suddenly the fire smokes, and in the midst of the smoke your other guests arrive. Every one begins to cough and blink. They are very polite, but the smoke, growing each moment denser, is not to be overlooked. Mrs. Toplofty takes matters in her own hands and makes Mr. Doe and your husband carry the logs, smoke and all, and throw them into the yard. The room still thick with smoke is now cheerlessly fireless, and another factor beginning to distress you is that, although everyone has arrived, there is no sign of dinner. You wait, at first merely eager to get out of the smoke-filled drawing-room. Gradually you are becoming nervous—what can have happened? The dining-room door might be that of a tomb for all the evidence of life behind it. You become really alarmed. Is dinner never going to be served? Everyone's eyes are red from the smoke, and conversation is getting weaker and weaker. Mrs. Toplofty—evidently despairing—sits down. Mrs. Worldly also sits, both hold their eyes shut and say nothing. At last the dining-room door opens, and Sigrid instead of bowing slightly and saying in a low tone of voice, "Dinner is served," stands stiff as a block of wood, and fairly shouts: "Dinner's all ready!"

You hope no one heard her, but you know very well that nothing escaped any one of those present. And between the smoke and the delay and your waitress' manners, you are already thoroughly mortified by the time you reach the table. But you hope that at least the dinner will be good. For the first time you are assailed with doubt on that score. And again you wait, but the oyster course is all right. And then comes the soup. You don't have to taste it to see that it is wrong. It looks not at all as "clear" soup should! Its color, instead of being glass-clear amber, is greasy-looking brown. You taste it, fearing the worst, and the worst is realized. It tastes like dish-water—and is barely tepid. You look around the table; Mr. Kindhart alone is trying to eat it.

In removing the plates, Delia, the assistant, takes them up by piling one on top of the other, clashing them together as she does so. You can feel Mrs. Worldly looking with almost hypnotized fascination—as her attention might be drawn to a street accident against her will. Then there is a wait. You wait and wait, and looking in front of you, you notice the bare tablecloth without a plate. You know instantly that the service is wrong, but you find yourself puzzled to know how it should have been done. Finally Sigrid comes in with a whole dozen plates stacked in a pile, which she proceeds to deal around the table. You at least know that to try to interfere would only make matters worse. You hold your own cold fingers in your lap knowing that you must sit there, and that you can do nothing.

The fish which was to have been a mousse with Hollandaise sauce, is a huge mound, much too big for the platter, with a narrow gutter of water around the edge and the center dabbed over with a curdled yellow mess. You realize that not only is the food itself awful, but that the quantity is too great for one dish. You don't know what to do next; you know there is no use in apologizing, there is no way of dropping through the floor, or waking yourself up. You have collected the smartest and the most critical people around your table to put them to torture such as they will never forget. Never! You have to bite your lips to keep from crying. Whatever possessed you to ask these people to your horrible house?

Mr. Kindhart, sitting next to you, says gently, "Cheer up, little girl, it doesn't really matter!" And then you know to the full how terrible the situation is. The meal is endless; each course is equally unappetizing to look at, and abominably served. You notice that none of your guests eat anything. They can't.

You leave the table literally sick, but realizing fully that the giving of a dinner is not as easy as you thought. And in the drawing-room, which is now fireless and freezing, but at least smokeless, you start to apologize and burst into tears!

As you are very young, and those present are all really fond of you, they try to be comforting, but you know that it will be years (if ever) before any of them will be willing to risk an evening in your house again. You also know that without malice, but in truth and frankness, they will tell everyone: "Whatever you do, don't dine with the Newweds unless you eat your dinner before you go, and wear black glasses so no sight can offend you."

When they have all gone, you drag yourself miserably up-stairs, feeling that you never want to look in that drawing-room or dining-room again. Your husband, remembering the trenches, tries to tell you it was not so bad! But you know! You lie awake planning to let the house, and to discharge each one of your awful household the next morning, and then you realize that the fault is not a bit more theirs than yours.

If you had tried the chimney first, and learned its peculiarities; if you yourself had known every detail of cooking and service, of course you would not have attempted to give the dinner in the first place; not at least until, through giving little dinners, the technique of your household had become good enough to give a big one.

On the other hand, supposing that you had had a very experienced cook and waitress; dinner would, of course, not have been bungled, but it would have lacked something, somewhere, if you added nothing of your own personality to its perfection. It is almost safe to make the statement that no dinner is ever really well done unless the hostess herself knows every smallest detail thoroughly. Mrs. Worldly pays seemingly no attention, but nothing escapes her. She can walk through a room without appearing to look either to the right or left, yet if the slightest detail is amiss, an ornament out of place, or there is one dull button on a footman's livery, her house telephone is rung at once!

When Dinner Is Announced

2009-11-13T09:11:00.001-08:00

It is the duty of the butler to "count heads" so that he may know when the company has arrived. As soon as he has announced the last person, he notifies the cook. The cook being ready, the butler, having glanced into the dining-room to see that windows have been closed and the candles on the table lighted, enters the drawing-room, approaches the hostess, bows, and says quietly, "Dinner is served."

The host offers his arm to the lady of honor and leads the way to the dining-room. All the other gentlemen offer their arms to the ladies appointed to them, and follow the host, in an orderly procession, two and two; the only order of precedence is that the host and his partner lead, while the hostess and her partner come last. At all formal dinners, place cards being on the table, the hostess does not direct people where to sit. If there was no table diagram in the hall, the butler, standing just within the dining-room door, tells each gentleman as he approaches "Right" or "Left."

"R" or "L" is occasionally written on the lady's name card in the envelopes given to the gentlemen, or if it is such a big dinner that there are many separate tables, the tables are numbered with standing placards (as at a public dinner) and the table number written on each lady's name card.

Introductions at Dinner

2009-11-07T07:44:00.001-08:00

The host must always see that every gentleman either knows or is presented to the lady he is to "take in" to dinner, and also, if possible, to the one who is to sit at the other side of him. If the latter introduction is overlooked, people sitting next each other at table nearly always introduce themselves. A gentleman says, "How do you do, Mrs. Jones. I am Arthur Robinson." Or showing her his place card, "I have to introduce myself, this is my name." Or the lady says first, "I am Mrs. Hunter Jones." And the man answers, "How do you do, Mrs. Jones, my name is Titherington Smith."

It is not unusual, in New York, for those placed next each other to talk without introducing themselves—particularly if each can read the name of the other on the place cards.

Dress for Dinner

2009-07-29T07:33:00.001-07:00

For an informal dinner a woman may wear a semi-evening dress of the sort suitable for afternoon while her partner wears the regular dinner jacket. For a formal affair formal decollete dress with the hair arranged somewhat more elaborately than usual is required. Jewels may be worn. Gloves are always removed, never at a dinner should they be tucked in at the wrists. Men, of course, wear full evening dress to a formal dinner.

In hotels and other public dining-rooms there is more freedom of choice as to what one shall wear but it is in bad taste to attire oneself conspicuously. A woman dining alone should always wear her hat into the dining-room even if she is a guest of the hotel.

It is amazing how much the little niceties of life have to do with making a dinner pleasant, and in every home the family should "dress for dinner" even though this may not mean donning regulation evening dress. Formal or informal, in the intimacy of the family circle or in a large group of friends the meal should be unhurried and calm.

Dinner Party: Do Not Experiment For Strangers

2009-07-27T16:10:00.000-07:00

Typical dinner-party dishes are invariably the temptation no less than the downfall of ambitious ignorance. Never let an inexperienced cook attempt a new dish for company, no matter how attractive her description of it may sound. Try it yourself, or when you are having family or most intimate friends who will understand if it turns out all wrong that it is a "trial" dish. In fact, it is a very good idea to share the testing of it with some one who can help you in suggestions, if they are needed for its improvement.

Or supposing you have a cook who is rather poor on all dinner dishes, but makes delicious bread and cake and waffles and oyster stew and creamed chicken, or even hash! You can make a specialty of asking people to "supper." Suppers are necessarily informal, but there is no objection in that. Formal parties play a very small rôle anyway compared to informal ones. There are no end of people, and the smartest ones at that, who entertain only in the most informal possible way. Mrs. Oldname gives at most two formal dinners a year; her typical dinners and suppers are for eight.

Entertainment During the Party

2009-06-17T19:23:00.000-07:00

Some hostesses like to provide special entertainment for their guests -- professional dancers, elocutionists, or singers. But here "circumstances must alter cases." As a matter of fact, not very much entertainment is really required, for if the guests are congenial, they will no doubt enjoy conversation among themselves. It is, of course, not necessary to limit one's conversation to the lady or gentleman with whom one's lot has been cast for the evening. However, special attention should be paid to that person.

Seating the Guests

2009-04-08T20:28:00.000-07:00

The seating should be arranged by placing cards bearing the names of each guest next to each plate if the party is a large one. This method may be pursued if the party is small, though, in this case it is quite possible for the hostess to indicate gracefully the place where she wishes each guest to sit. The guests who enter the dining-room together sit side by side; the hostess always waits until everyone is seated, before she takes her place and motions that the dinner is to proceed.

Equal Number of Men and Women

2009-02-27T07:44:00.000-08:00

The hostess, in inviting her guests, should be sure that there is an equal number of men and women. Husbands and wives should never be sent into the dining-room together. The usual order of precedence is as follows: The host leads with the lady who is to sit at his right; if the dinner is in honor of a married couple, the host goes in to dinner with the wife of the honored guest; the hostess ending the "procession" with that lady's husband. When there are no guests of honor the host takes the eldest lady present. Usually a lady visiting the house for the first time is the first to enter the dining-room. If there is one more woman than men in the party, the customary thing is for the hostess to enter the dining-room alone after all her guests have entered it. She must never take the other arm of the last gentleman.

Finger Foods

2009-02-25T18:12:00.001-08:00

Lobster claws may be pulled apart with the fingers. Shrimps also, when served whole in their shells, may be separated, peeled and eaten with the fingers. Fruits such as oranges, apples, grapes, peaches and plums are all eaten with the fingers. Celery, radishes and olives are similarly eaten. Sometimes there are other relishes on the dinner table, and the guest must use his common sense to determine whether they are eaten with the fork or fingers. Bonbons, of course, are always eaten with the fingers.

Whenever fruits are served the finger-bowl should follow. It is always used at the completion of the dinner. The bowl is half filled with tepid water and set upon a plate. A fragrant leaf may be added to the water. The fingers are dipped lightly into the bowl, one hand at a time, and then dried on the napkin. It is a mark of ill breeding to splash the water about, to put both hands into the bowl at once, or to wet the entire palm of the hand. Only the finger tips should touch the water.

Properly Eating Corn-on-the-Cob

2009-02-23T06:34:00.001-08:00

Corn on the cob is without a doubt one of the most difficult foods to eat gracefully. And yet it is too delicious to forego the pleasure of eating it at all. It is entirely permissible to use the fingers in eating corn, holding it lightly at each end; sometimes a napkin is used in holding it. Many a foresighted hostess, when serving corn on the cob, provides each guest with a short, keen, steel-bladed knife with which the kernels may be cut from the cob easily. This is by far the most satisfactory method.

Inviting a Stop-Gap Guest

2009-02-22T14:28:00.000-08:00

If the hostess finds, almost at the last moment, that one of her guests is unavoidably detained and will not be able to attend the dinner, she may call upon a friend to take the vacant place. The friend thus invited should not feel that he or she is playing "second-fiddle" and the fact that she was not invited at first should not tempt her to refuse the invitation which would be a serious discourtesy, indeed. Quite on the contrary, she should accept cordially, and then do her utmost to make her (or his, as the case may be) presence at the dinner amiable and pleasant.

The invitation is usually in the form of a hand-written note, explaining the reason for its last-minute arrival, and frankly requesting the presence of the lady or gentleman in the place of the one who cannot appear. The answer should be brief but sincere; there must be no hint in it that the recipient is not altogether pleased with the invitation and with the idea of dining in someone's else place. To refuse an invitation to serve as a stop-gap, without an acceptable reason for doing so is an inexcusable violation of the rules of good breeding.

Of course, it is not always agreeable to the hostess to call on one of her friends to attend her dinner in the place of someone else; but it is certainly a better plan than to leave the guest out entirely, and have one more lady than gentleman, or vice versa. If the note is cordial and frankly sincere, a good friend will not feel any unreasonable resentment, but will, in fact, be pleased to serve.

Correct Service Of Dinner

2009-02-21T10:37:00.000-08:00

Whether there are two at table or two hundred, plates are changed and courses presented in precisely the same manner.

For faultless service, if there are many "accompanied" dishes, two servants are necessary to wait on as few as two persons. But two can also efficiently serve eight; or with unaccompanied dishes an expert servant can manage eight alone, and with one assistant, he can perfectly manage twelve.

In old-fashioned times people apparently did not mind waiting tranquilly through courses and between courses, even though meat grew cold long before the last of many vegetables was passed, and they waited endlessly while a slow talker and eater finished his topic and his food. But people of to-day do not like to wait an unnecessary second. The moment fish is passed them, they expect the cucumbers or sauce, or whatever should go with the fish, to follow immediately. And when the first servant hands the meat course, they consider that they should not be expected to wait a moment for a second servant to hand the gravy or jelly or whatever goes with the meat. No service is good in this day unless swift—and, of course, soundless.

A late leader of Newport society who had a world-wide reputation for the brilliancy of her entertainments, had an equally well-known reputation for rapidly served dinners. "Twenty minutes is quite long enough to sit at table—ever!" is what she used to say, and what her household had to live up to. She had a footman to about every two guests and any one dining with her had to cling to the edge of his plate or it would be whisked away! One who looked aside or "let go" for a second found his plate gone! That was extreme; but, even so, better than a snail-paced dinner!

Adjourning to the Drawing-Room

2009-02-20T09:01:00.001-08:00

When the hostess is quite sure that everyone has finished, she makes the sign for retiring. The usual manner of doing this, is to catch the eye of the lady who is the partner of her husband for the evening, nod and smile to her, and they both rise together, followed immediately by the other women guests. They adjourn to the drawing-room, where coffee is served and light conversation ensues until the men join them. The latter, in the meanwhile, remain in the dining-room to smoke their cigars and drink their coffee. Usually they will leave their original seats and move up to the end of the table, gathering around the host, whose duty it now is to entertain them and to keep pleasant conversation going. Fifteen minutes is an ample time for the gentlemen to smoke and chat by themselves. Then they are expected to join the ladies in the drawing-room.

Second Helpings

2009-02-18T14:29:00.001-08:00

A guest at a formal dinner should never ask for a second helping of any dish. This holds equally true for an elaborate luncheon. However, the host or hostess may offer to provide a second helping to any one of the guests who has disposed of his first helping. In this case, the guest may acknowledge it with a smile, or if his appetite is entirely satisfied, he may refuse it with a polite word of thanks.

To insist, on the part of the host, after the guest has refused a second helping, is overdoing the bounds of hospitality, and perilously borders on the verge of incivility.

Commenting on the Food

2009-02-17T19:24:00.001-08:00

Men and women of cultivation rarely make comments on food except to praise. It is better to accept a little of each course on one's place and eat a bit of it although one does not particularly care for it, than to refuse it entirely. A highly amusing story is related of a guest who was invited to a formal dinner given by a prominent New York woman who had gained a reputation for the savory qualities of the soups she served. On this occasion she was especially proud of her Grun Yung Waa (Bird's-Nest Soup)--and really, from all reports, it must have been remarkably delicious. But the guest we are writing about, sniffed at the soup disdainfully and asked, "Is this some of that new canned soup they are advertising?" The hostess blushed--as any conscientious hostess would--and the next time she issued invitations for dinner, she somehow forgot to include the guest who read the advertisements so diligently.

Taking Leave

2009-02-16T19:12:00.001-08:00

The lady, whether she be wife, sister or fiancee, is the first to express a desire to depart. When she does, she and the gentleman will seek out the host and hostess, thank them cordially for their hospitality, and take their leave. Here are some accepted forms that may be used with variations according to the guest's own personality:

"Good-night, Mrs. Carr. I must thank you for a perfectly delightful evening."

To which the hostess will no doubt answer something to this effect:

"We were glad to have you, I'm sure, Mrs. Roberts."

Here is another manner in which to extend one's thanks, and how to accept them:

"Sorry we must start so soon, Mrs. Carr. Thank you so much for your kindness."

"Good-night, Mrs. Roberts. I hope to see you soon again."

It is also very important to bid one's partner for the evening a cordial good-night. In fact, it is a flagrant breach to leave without having thanked one's partner--and a gentleman will never do it. A word or two is all that is necessary.

The hostess, in taking leave of her guests, will gratefully acknowledge their thanks and say a word or two expressing her pleasure at their presence. It is not civil or courteous on the part of either host or hostess to attempt to prolong the presence of any guest after he has made it known that he wishes to depart.

When to Leave

2009-02-14T05:31:00.000-08:00

It is only an extremely rude and discourteous guest who will leave immediately upon the conclusion of the dinner. The correct thing to do, when invited to a dinner that begins at eight o'clock is to order one's car to appear at the door at ten-thirty. In most cases, however, when the guests are brilliant and pleasant, and when conversation holds one in spite of the desire to leave, it is customary to remain until eleven o'clock when the party will, no doubt, break up entirely.

In these days of festivities and continual hospitalities, it is not unusual for a popular guest to be invited to two receptions in one evening. Even this urgent responsibility, however, does not warrant the guest's hurrying away while the dinner is still serving--though it may be the last stages. The courteous way is to wait until all the guests have adjourned to the drawing-room, remain fifteen or twenty minutes conversing with one's partner or other guests, and then with a fitting apology and brief explanation, order one's car. If this is followed, the hostess cannot feel any dissatisfaction or resentment; but the guest who insists on rushing away, shows ill-breeding and inconsideration.

Table Accidents

2009-02-13T09:05:00.000-08:00

"Accidents will happen"--at the dinner table as well as anywhere else. The duty of the guest and the hostess both is to see that no confusion and embarrassment follows.

If a spoon or fork or napkin is dropped, the proper thing to do is to allow the servant to pick it up; the well-trained servant will not return it, but place it aside and give the guest another one. If a glass or cup is dropped and broken, embarrassed apologies will not put it together again, but a word of sincere regret to the hostess will relieve the awkwardness of the moment, and will be as gratifying to her as profuse apologies. If the article broken is a valuable one, the guest may replace it by sending, a day or two later, another one as nearly like it as possible. A cordial note of regret may accompany it.

Sometimes a cup of coffee or a glass of water is overturned at the table. This is, of course, a very serious and unpleasant accident, but there is no necessity in making matters worse by fussing about it and offering several exaggerated apologies. A simple word or two to the hostess will suffice; but it is really quite important that one should be careful not to let an accident of this kind happen too often, otherwise one will soon acquire the reputation of being a clumsy boor.

There is certainly no reason to feel embarrassed when an accident occurs at the dinner table that is, of course, if it was not due to carelessness. It is not the accident itself that will cause the guests and the hostess to consider one ill-bred, but continued mention of it and many flustered apologies. "I am sorry" or "How careless of me!" are sufficient offers of regret--the matter should then be forgotten.

Laying out the Dinner Table

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When the center ornament has been adjusted, it may be used as a mathematical base for all the rest of the table appointments. Candlesticks, either of silver or bronze, are artistic when placed at equal distance around the flowers. They diffuse a soft light upon the table, and by being an incentive to the recalling of old memories, they invoke conversation when there is danger of its lagging. It is one of the charms of candlelight--thus power to bring up pleasant reminiscences. Between these stately guardians of the floral centerpiece may be placed small dishes containing preserved ginger, macaroons or bon-bons.

Salt-cellars and pepper-boxes are next located on the table, and the places are laid for the guests. The proper number of forks is placed to the left. The knives and spoons are placed at the right. They are placed in the order in which they are to be used. Not more than three forks should ever appear on the table at one time. If others are needed they should be placed with their respective courses. A small square of bread, or a roll, is in the center, covered with the folded napkin, and a little to the left are the several glasses.

Care must be taken in arranging the dinner table to have both sides balanced. There is an old maxim that says, "There must be a use for everything" and this holds especially true of the table of good taste. It must not be littered with useless articles, no matter how artistic or odd, for they hamper the movements of the guests and make things unnecessarily crowded. Butter rarely appears on the table at the formal dinner; and condiments are brought in by the servant only as they are needed.

Being a Successful Hostess

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The hostess must see that all her guests are comfortable and well taken care of. She must stimulate conversation and help things along by herself relating amusing little anecdotes or experiences. She must not introduce any topic, however, that would in the least detail suggest scandal or gossip.

Nothing is more delightful, at the dinner table, whether formal or informal, than the interesting little chats between old friends and new acquaintances. Special musical programs always please dinner guests, and when held after dinner are usually appreciated. In selecting musical numbers the hostess should bear in mind the personal likes and dislikes of her guests. Music during the meal if it is soft enough not to interfere with conversation is pleasing, though it is not essential. The musicians should be hidden behind palms.

Happy is she, who, at the conclusion of the formal dinner, can say to herself that everything was as it should be; that each of the guests had an enjoyable time; that the entire dinner had been a success. And she may claim the success of the evening as her own, for it is upon the hostess that each phase of successful dinner-giving devolves, even when most of the actual entertaining is done by one or more of the guests.

Use of the Napkin

2009-02-09T17:33:00.001-08:00

What can be more unsightly than a napkin tucked carefully in the top of one's waistcoat? And still, how often one sees it done among men who believe that they are impressively well-bred! The proper way to use a napkin, whether it is at a formal dinner, or in a restaurant, is to unfold it only half, leaving the center fold as it is, and lay it across the knees. It may be used constantly during the meal, whenever the guest finds need for it, but it must never be completely unfolded.

When rising from the table, the napkin is placed as it is on the table. It is never folded again into its original form, as that would be an assumption on the part of the guest that the hostess would use it again before laundering. A reprehensible habit is to drop the napkin carelessly into the finger-bowl, or over the coffee cup. It should be laid on the table, at the right of the finger-bowl.

The Fork and the Knife

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In using the fork and knife, one can display a pleasing grace, or just the opposite--awkward clumsiness. It depends entirely upon how well one knows and follows the correct rules. The first rule to be remembered is that a knife is never used for any other purpose than cutting food. It is unforgiveable to use a knife to convey food to the mouth-- unforgiveable and vulgar. The knife is held in the right hand and the fork in the left. When the desired morsel of food is cut, the knife is laid aside temporarily and the fork is shifted to the right hand.

The knife and fork should never be held in the same hand together, and when not being used, one or both of the utensils should rest on the plate. They should never be allowed to rest against the edge of the plate with the handles on the table; when one is through with both the knife and fork, they should be placed entirely on the plate, their tips touching at the center, their handles resting against the edge. They are never placed back again on the table.

The foods eaten with the fork are meats, vegetables, fish, salads, oysters and clams, lobster, ices, frozen puddings and melons. Hearts of lettuce and lettuce leaves are folded up with the fork and conveyed uncut to the mouth. If the leaves are too large to be folded conveniently, they may be cut with the blunt edge of the fork--never with a knife.

Proper Use of a Spoon

2009-02-04T06:30:00.000-08:00

Spoons are used when eating grapefruit and other fruits served with cream. Jellies, puddings, custards, porridges, preserves and boiled eggs are always eaten with spoons. Also, of course, soup, bouillon, coffee and tea. In the case of the three latter beverages, however; the spoon is used only to stir them once or twice and to taste them to see that they are of the desired temperature. It is never allowed to stand in the cup while the beverage is being drunk. Nor is it permissible to draw up a spoonful of soup or coffee and blow upon it; one must wait until it is sufficiently cooled of itself.

In taking soup, the correct way to use the spoon is to dip it with an outward motion instead of drawing it towards one. The soup is then imbibed from the side, not the end.

Meat Course

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At the conclusion of this course the plates are removed and empty warm plates placed for the meat course. The meat should be carved before it is brought to the table and after the waiter has served each person he serves the vegetables. If there is only one waiter it is more convenient to have the vegetables placed on the table in large vegetable dishes from which each guest serves himself. After the vegetables have gone around once they are removed but they may be passed once or twice again before the conclusion of the meal.

The Soup Course

2009-02-03T06:20:00.000-08:00

The waiter removes the first course entirely before the soup is placed. He stands at the left of each guest and removes the plates with his left hand. The soup in soup plates (not in a tureen) is placed on the service plates and when this course is over service plates as well as soup plates are removed and the entree is served. If the plates for it are empty they are placed with the right hand but if the entree is already on them they are placed with the left. If empty plates are supplied the waiter passes the entree on a platter held on a folded napkin on his left hand, using his right hand to help balance it. Each guest serves himself.

The First Course

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At a formal dinner the first course is on the table when the guests enter the dining-room. It consists of oysters, a canape, a fruit cocktail, grapefruit or something else of the same kind. Oysters on the half-shell are served bedded in crushed ice in a soup plate. This is placed on the service plate. A cocktail is served in a cocktail glass which is placed on a doily-covered plate which in turn is placed on the service plate.

The silver for the first course may be on the table beside the soup spoon or it may be served with the course.

When to Leave

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It is only an extremely rude and discourteous guest who will leave immediately upon the conclusion of the dinner. The correct thing to do, when invited to a dinner that begins at eight o'clock is to order one's car to appear at the door at ten-thirty. In most cases, however, when the guests are brilliant and pleasant, and when conversation holds one in spite of the desire to leave, it is customary to remain until eleven o'clock when the party will, no doubt, break up entirely.

In these days of gay festivities and continual hospitalities, it is not unusual for a popular guest to be invited to two receptions in one evening. Even this urgent responsibility, however, does not warrant the guest's hurrying away while the dinner is still serving--though it may be the last stages. The courteous way is to wait until all the guests have adjourned to the drawing-room, remain fifteen or twenty minutes conversing with one's partner or other guests, and then with a fitting apology and brief explanation, order one's car. If this is followed, the hostess cannot feel any dissatisfaction or resentment; but the guest who insists on rushing away, shows ill-breeding and inconsideration.

Table Etiquette

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The importance of correct table etiquette cannot be over-emphasized. Nothing is more vulgar, than clumsy, awkward movements at the table, and it is certainly a sign of ill-breeding deliberately to fail to act in accordance with the rules of table etiquette. The rules of dinner etiquette should be studied carefully and just as carefully followed, if one wishes to be--and everyone does--a lady or a gentleman.

Perhaps the most important thing is one's bearing at table. Very often you see a seemingly cultured gentleman in a hotel dining-room or restaurant playing with the table silver or absent-mindedly clinking glasses together. This may be overlooked in the restaurant, but at a formal dinner it is essentially bad form. When the hands are not being used, they should rest quietly in the lap--never should the elbows be rested on the table. The chair should be neither too near nor too far from the table; both are ungraceful and awkward.

Menu Cards

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Menu-cards are no longer used at the formal dinner, unless it is in celebration of some auspicious occasion and honored guests are present. In this case, the hostess has the menus printed or engraved in a delicate script and has one placed beside the plate of each guest. A favorite fashion is to have them printed in French. Sometimes one of these cards serves for two guests, although the hostess who takes a pride in her dinners will provide each guest with one, as it serves as an appropriate souvenir of the occasion.

Arranging the Table

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To set the formal dinner table correctly is an art in itself.

The appointments of the modern dinner table are a delight. Services are of silver and china is of the finest. Both the square or round table are appropriate, the latter being the most popular since it is easier to make attractive. A heat-resistant mat or a thickness of canton flannel is first spread on the table. Over this comes the snowy, linen table-cover, falling gracefully over the sides with the four points almost touching the floor. A place is laid for each guest. The most fashionable method is to have a large lace or embroidered doily in the center of the table, and smaller ones indicating the position of the guests. A centerpiece of glass, china, silver, is usually used, over the doily or without it, and on top of this, flowers. Delicate ferns are sometimes used instead of flowers, although roses (hot-house roses when no others are obtainable) are always the favorite at an elaborate dinner.

Scheduling

2008-08-22T06:01:00.000-07:00

First in importance, of course, is when shall the formal dinner be held? Any evening of the week may be selected--although Sunday is rarely chosen. The hour is usually between seven and eight o'clock. Invitations should be mailed a week or ten days before the date set for the dinner. The hostess may use her own judgment in deciding whether the invitations should be engraved on cards, or hand-written on note paper. The former is preferred for an elaborate dinner, the latter for a small one.

How A Dinner List Is Kept

2008-08-21T10:06:00.001-07:00

Nearly every hostess keeps a dinner list—apart from her general visiting list—of people with whom she is accustomed to dine, or to invite to dinner or other small entertainments. But the prominent hostess, if she has grown daughters and continually gives parties of all sorts and sizes and ages, usually keeps her list in a more complete and "ready reference" order.

Mrs. Gilding, for instance, has guest lists separately indexed. Under the general heading "Dinners," she has older married, younger married, girls, men. Her luncheon list is taken from her dinner list. "Bridge" includes especially good players of all ages; "dances," young married people, young girls, and dancing men. Then she has a cross-index list of "Important Persons," meaning those of real distinction who are always the foundation of all good society; "Amusing," usually people of talent—invaluable for house parties; and "New People," including many varieties and unassorted. Mrs. Gilding exchanges invitations with a number of these because they are interesting or amusing, or because their parties are diverting and dazzling. And Mrs. Gilding herself, being typical of New York's Cavalier element rather than its Puritan strain, personally prefers diversion to edification. Needless to say, "Boston's Best," being ninety-eight per cent. Puritan, has no "new" list. Besides her list of "New People," she has a short "frivolous" list of other Cavaliers like herself, and a "Neutral" list, which is the most valuable of all because it comprises those who "go" with everyone. Besides her own lists she has a "Pantry" list, a list that is actually made out for the benefit of the butler, so that on occasions he can invite guests to "fill in." The "Pantry" list comprises only intimate friends who belong on the "Neutral" list and fit in everywhere; young girls and young and older single men.

Allowing the butler to invite guests at his own discretion is not quite as casual as it sounds. It is very often an unavoidable expedient. For instance, at four o'clock in the afternoon, Mr. Blank telephones that he cannot come to dinner that same evening. Mrs. Gilding is out; to wait until she returns will make it too late to fill the place. Her butler who has been with her for years knows quite as well as Mrs. Gilding herself exactly which people belong in the same group. The dinner cards being already in his possession, he can see not only who is expected for dinner but the two ladies between whom Mr. Blank has been placed, and he thereupon selects some one on the "Pantry" list who is suitable for Mr. Blank's place at the table, and telephones the invitation. Perhaps he calls up a dozen before he finds one disengaged. When Mrs. Gilding returns he says, "Mr. Blank telephoned he would not be able to come for dinner as he was called to Washington. Mr. Bachelor will be happy to come in his place." Married people are seldom on this list, because the butler need not undertake to fill any but an odd place—that of a gentleman particularly. Otherwise two ladies would be seated together.

Taste In Selection Of People

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Requisites for a Successful Dinner Party

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The requisites at every dinner, whether a great one of 200 covers, or a little one of six, are as follows:

-- Guests. People who are congenial to one another. This is of first importance.
-- Food. A suitable menu perfectly prepared and dished. (Hot food to be hot, and cold, cold.)
-- Table furnishing. Faultlessly laundered linen, brilliantly polished silver, and all other table accessories suitable to the occasion and surroundings.
-- Service. Expert dining-room servants and enough of them.
-- Drawing-room. Adequate in size to number of guests and inviting in arrangement.
-- A cordial and hospitable host.
-- A hostess of charm. Charm says everything—tact, sympathy, poise and perfect manners—always.

And though for all dinners these requisites are much the same, the necessity for perfection increases in proportion to the formality of the occasion.

Not For The Novice To Attempt

2008-08-21T10:01:00.001-07:00

If the great world of society were a university which issued degrees to those whom it trains to its usages, the magna cum laude honors would be awarded without question, not to the hostess who may have given the most marvelous ball of the decade, but to her who knows best every component detail of preparation and service, no less than every inexorable rule of etiquette, in formal dinner-giving.

To give a perfect dinner of ceremony is the supreme accomplishment of a hostess! It means not alone perfection of furnishing, of service, of culinary skill, but also of personal charm, of tact. The only other occasion when a hostess must have equal—and possibly even greater ability—is the large and somewhat formal week-end party, which includes a dinner or two as by no means its least formidable features.

There are so many aspects to be considered in dinner giving that it is difficult to know whether to begin up-stairs or down, or with furnishing, or service, or people, or manners! One thing is certain, no novice should ever begin her social career by attempting a formal dinner, any more than a pupil swimmer, upon being able to take three strokes alone, should attempt to swim three miles out to sea. The former will as surely drown as the latter.