Fork and Knife

Recently, HD and I "hosted" an impromptu dinner party (note: impromptu "hosting" cause I sat around the apartment waiting for Shiva and Sharmilee and HD to show up with food and cook it for me). The food was excellent, and the best part was there was no pressure on me to use a fork and knife correctly. Which I can't. At all.

There, it's out in the open. Happy? I'm not at all good at eating with a fork and a knife. When I visit my parents, my sister, my whole family really, makes fun of and chastises me for picking up my food with my hands, kindly refreshing my memory that I DO have a fork and knife I can use. The truth is, I'd rather be thought of as rude or crude than incompetent.

For many years, I hadn't mastered the use of a spoon either. Having large hands, I'd hold it delicately, like an ogre would, shoveling everything into my craw. I was able to vote before I was able to properly eat soup, cereal or pudding.

I get technique envy whenever I go to a restaurant with classier people or an event, like a wedding. Watching HD and Sharmilee neatly cut their lamb shoulders, gracefully using the fork in their off hand and then deftly transferring the meat to their mouth made my own technique seem even poorer. I need to switch the fork from my left to my right hand before I can even attempt to shove the giant size bite into my mouth.

Whenever I go on dates, I stay away from any non-sandwiches or non-finger foods. It can be really tough to fight off temptation when I see a delicious looking half-chicken dish on the menu, or steak with really long noodles that need to be cut so they don't stick out of my mouth like a brontosaurus*. However, to keep my secret shortcomings (according to society, at least) a secret, I have to stick to a hamburger with extra onions, mushrooms, bacon, cheddar cheese and a liter of barbecue sauce. And make sure none of it drips down my face.


*which is what Pacey wanted to be when he was 8.