Forks Have Their Place

This is Friday’s post, but I was too busy and then got to hanging out with friends.

Forks came to England from France, but one of the English kings (Henry the II, or someone) thought they were typically French effeminate and did not like to use them. We have ten fingers, he reasoned, and they are good enough.

I like that line of thinking. We are entirely too rigid in our etiquette rules and far too limiting in what each utensil should, or should not, be used for.

Forks, for instance. Do you really need one kind for salad, another for the main course and another for dessert, as well as one for fish? More fundamentally, do you need one at all for pie? Almost all kinds of pie fit neatly in your hand; pumpkin, custard, apple (if it’s not too messy), etc. Why get a fork dirty when you can wipe your hands on your pants?

Knives are fine in their place, but when you are at a semi-formal affair and people might look askance as you eat pie with your hands, you can use a knife for the pie rather handily. I occasionally will wipe a little butter on my knife, just a bit, then use it to eat peas; nobody has seen me put the sticky butter on it, and are amazed that (a) someone would even try it, (b) and make it work.

Speaking of which, Joe the Fork and Bob the Spoon could never understand why Mac made it big in the entertainment field.