Table Manners

How you eat says a lot about you – at least to other people. When you least expect, a dinner invitation can be a life-defining moment as a result of things so mundane as knives, forks, chopsticks and your very own hand.

Some years ago, when I was an international student in Bathurst, I made lunch for a couple of friends who were Anglo-Australian and Chinese.
Being a Sri Lankan, I served rice and curry and, being a thoughtful host, I provided utensils for my friends while choosing to eat the traditional way with my hand.
"Why are you still eating in that primitive way? You should learn to eat with a knife and fork (now that you’re in Australia)," one Australian friend said.
I told her that food tastes better, specially rice and curry, when eaten by hand. Not only do we get to mix flavours better, but we can also feel for hidden bones or stones before putting the food in our mouth.

One of my fondest memories is that of my aunt, Loku Nanda (my father’s sister) feeding me balls of rice and curry with her hand while my grandfather told stories at the kitchen table.
Hearing this, another Australian friend abandoned the utensils and had a go of eating with her hands. "The food does taste better," she agreed, scooping everything up with gusto (thereby giving me another fond memory).
Then my Chinese friend said eating with a knife and fork is easy compared to using chopsticks. Manipulating chopsticks requires more dexterity, so it’s obvious that the Chinese had found the most superior method to eat.

Having tried using those two wooden sticks to transfer food from bowl to mouth – unsuccessfully, I’d rate chopsticks more difficult to use than a knife and fork (leaving aside the ‘proper’ hierarchy of using flatware on parade).
But chopsticks are two wooden sticks, less complex to make than a knife or a fork. So do I think knives and forks win the ‘superior’ argument…?
Of course not.

Europeans have spent so much time and effort designing knives, forks and spoons that, it seems to me, they’ve forgotten about what’s on the plate. Chinese food is more inspiring but even they don’t use as many spices as a Sri Lankan would. Or understand the complex relationship between food, spices, health and well-being.

When I was growing up not only did my aunt (on my mother’s side, Loku Amma) put turmeric in dhal curry, but my cousin also applied a turmeric paste on his pimples. Today, even the West understands that turmeric isn’t simply a yellow-coloured spice, it’s an antibiotic that can help in the prevention of Alzheimer’s.
We eat our medicine in our daily meals: gotukola, bitter gourd, cashews, papaw/papaya…
It takes skill to keep the nutritional and medicinal content of these foods while getting the ‘taste’ right with the ‘correct’ combination of more than 20 spices.
On special occasions, our families would gather around and cook for days, making delicious, complex dishes for a celebration feast or religious alms-giving, then serve the rice and curries on ‘plates’ of banana leaves – biodegradable and environmentally-friendly. And really the only rule in hand-etiquette that I know of is: eat with your right, wash your behind with the left.

So yes, I do think it’s more important to focus on what we eat rather than how we eat. Just like I don’t believe clothes are all about fashion, they’re about protection from the elements.

But being dismissive of each other’s attention to utensils or lack thereof, is missing the point of our own evolution. Humans owe their survival to making the most of what we find.
Our journey from stone spears to butter knives is very interesting (read articles on the History of Utensils on the web). Also interesting is to realise that utensils were honed in countries where metals are a rich resource, and whose warrior leaders found ways of turning weapons into dining utensils to maintain civic peace (the butter-knife is rumoured to have a blunt edge to prevent deadly violence on the streets).

In other parts of the world, where tropical weather has produced the kind of environment where vegetation thrives, our ancestors focused on finding the healing benefits of nature’s freely accessible medicine cabinet. Even our ancient Sinhala Kings were doctors who, for thousands of years, promoted Sri Lankan traditional medicine which draws it’s influences from plant-based indigenous healing combined with Ayurveda from India.
Yes, the availability of resources combined with the weather, not to mention the impact of the weather on metal probably had a lot to do with what we ate. In our kitchen in Colombo, the common serving spoon was made out of a coconut shell, with a wooden handle. Of course we had knives for cutting and chopping, as well as tin containers but these easily corrode under humid conditions and salty sea breezes. And until rust-proof aluminium pots were introduced Sri Lankans cooked in clay pots and still do.
And it’s not as if Sri Lankans aren’t aware of utensils. Having been invaded by the Portuguese, Dutch and British over 400 years, it would be difficult not to notice the way Europeans eat.
But I like to believe it’s better to put more effort into food than bothering to keep the cutlery spotless to impress the guests. Besides any guests who compliments the host on the condition of the flatware, is insulting them inadvertently on the quality of food served.

So why here and why now, in Australia, do I stubbornly cling to my ‘primitive’ hand-eating ways when there’s so much non-corrosive utensils available, even in plastic.
Easy, when I migrated to Australia it wasn’t because I wasn’t to become so ‘civilised’ as to deny all aspects of my culture, but because I wanted to better afford to put food on the table, and to share it around.
If you have a problem with that, talk to the hand.