The “Pretentious” Fish Knife?

Above - Shown from a different perspective are a properly held fish knife and fish fork… 
Knives and forks  are held with the index finger on the backs of the utensil handles. This is how it looks from the underside. Sometimes it is easier to understand how the utensils are properly held by seeing how they fit into the palms of the hands at an angle. The fish course, in formal Continental dining, is always served before the main course and the salad course is always served afterward, just the opposite as in American dining.

Is the fish knife our most pretentious utensil?

A 2nd Debut Article from 2020

Now largely forgotten, the fish knife comes from an age where table etiquette was front and centre, leading to nearly two hundred different eating utensils being designed for different courses and foods. Adopted by an aspiring middle class wishing to dine like the gentrified, the odd utensil was later targeted by high society as an object of ridicule, as Colin Bisset writes.

The fish knife is the epitome of gentility. With a scalloped shaped blade, the end is just pointy enough to pick small bones from a cooked fish, and the flat blade is useful for sliding between the flesh and skin.

The fish knife first appeared in the first half of the nineteenth century in Britain. Thanks to thriving industry and the wealth generated by an expanding Empire, the rising middle-classes aspired to a gentrified way of dining. From the 1850s, dinners were usually served a la russe, which meant as separate courses as opposed to the previous practice of putting all dishes on the table at the same time. This led to the introduction of a variety of implements to help distinguish the serving and eating of everything from oysters to elaborate puddings, making negotiating a dinner a nightmare for those lacking knowledge of table etiquette. 

It was a boon for cutlery manufacturers who were able to not only to design and market nearly two hundred eating implements but several styles for each one. (Washing up after these long dinners was certainly an arduous task.) The fish knife was an object of fussy design, solving a problem that was not truly present. It is interesting that they managed to last so long when the other cutlery inventions of the Victorian table have largely vanished. 

A fish knife was an essential component for the fish course and they were quickly adapted for dining tables across the newly industrialised world. Made from either plated or solid silver, because ordinary metal blades were believed to blacken when coming into contact with fish, they offered hosts the opportunity to show the world that they could afford to dine in the finest fashion. With ever-more fanciful shapes, some engraved with fish-scales, others as curvaceous as a fish itself, the maritime theme was de rigeur. 

The thought of an ordinary silver knife being able to serve the purpose just as well seems to have been politely put to one side. A larger version was often part of a set for the filleting and serving of a fish meant for several diners.

By the end of the First World War, they fell from fashion, at least for the upper classes who had always found them rather vulgar and preferred to use two forks to fillet a fish. As the century progressed, they quickly became an object of ridicule. However, the invention of stainless steel in the 1920s meant that they could be manufactured cheaply and thus anyone who aspired to a posh kind of gentility would be in possession of a set. 

Snobbish writers such as poet John Betjeman mocked their use, branding the utensil non-U (the term coined by Nancy Mitford to differentiate those with class from those with pretensions to it). Betjeman's famous poem of 1958 “How To Get On In Society” is a catalogue of names and terms used by the upwardly-mobile, at first sight gently mocking but actually (as Betjeman was) quite savage. 'Phone for the fish knives, Norman,' starts the poem, immediately highlighting a raft of non-U words: phone, fish knives and Norman.

The fish knife was an object of fussy design, solving a problem that was not truly present. It is interesting that they managed to last so long when the other cutlery inventions of the Victorian table have largely vanished. 

A visit to any antique shop will however always turn up many sets—many will never have been used. Perhaps, like the fondue set and the parfait dish, their time will come again. They might indeed be reclaimed as symbols for the class warrior and those who despise the snobbism implicit in certain objects.

They remain, however, as an interesting throwback to a time when how one ate was almost more important than what one ate.— By Colin Bisset for Design, 2013

🍽Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber of The RSVP Institute of Etiquette, is the Site Editor for the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia

A Parody of Manners

Sir John Betjeman, British Politician and Statesman(1958)

✍🏻 ✍🏻 ✍🏻 ✍🏻 ✍🏻

“This delicious mockery of the nouveau-riche British middle-class is spot on. Betjeman has, it seems, made a note of all the pretentious vocabulary he has ever heard used by the likes of Mrs Bucket (pronounced ‘Bouquet’ by its owner, of course) and put them into the mouth of a (presumably) female narrator. Many of these solecisms were, of course, noted by Nancy Mitford in her ‘U and Non-U’. If you’re wondering how the lady of the house betrays herself… ‘phone’ instead of ‘telephone’, ‘cook’ instead of the person’s name, ‘serviettes’ instead of ‘napkins’, ‘toilet’ instead of ‘lavatory’ or ‘loo’, ‘lounge’ instead of ‘drawing-room’, and so forth.” – Quoting from a 2013 blog post by actor, award-winning broadcaster, writer and classical music critic, Jeremy Nicholas

How To Get On In Society 

by John Betjeman 

Phone for the fish knives, Norman
As cook is a little unnerved;
You kiddies have crumpled the serviettes
And I must have things daintily served.

Are the requisites all in the toilet?
The frills round the cutlets can wait
Till the girl has replenished the cruets
And switched on the logs in the grate.

It's ever so close in the lounge dear,
But the vestibule's comfy for tea
And Howard is riding on horseback
So do come and take some with me

Now here is a fork for your pastries
And do use the couch for your feet;
I know that I wanted to ask you-
Is trifle sufficient for sweet?

Milk and then just as it comes dear?
I'm afraid the preserve's full of stones;
Beg pardon, I'm soiling the doileys
With afternoon tea-cakes and scones.

This poem was brought to us by Author Amy Willcock. Amy was the Best in Show Winner for the Etiquette Community in our 2nd Annual Etiquipedia Place Setting Competition. She is most well known for her books on AGA Stove cooking. Her books, "The Aga Bible," "Aga Cooking," "Aga Seasons," "Amy Willcock's Aga Baking," "Amy Willcock's Aga Know-How,"" At Home with Amy Willcock," and "B&B Know-How” are available on Amazon.

🍽️Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber, is the Site Editor of the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia

Fish Knife Etiquette and Pretentions

Above - Shown from a different perspective are a properly held fish knife and fish fork… 
Knives and forks  are held with the index finger on the backs of the utensil handles. This is how it looks from the underside. Sometimes it is easier to understand how the utensils are properly held by seeing how they fit into the palms of the hands at an angle.

The fish course, in formal Continental dining, is always served before the main course and the salad course is always served afterward, just the opposite as in American dining.

Is the fish knife our most pretentious utensil?

Now largely forgotten, the fish knife comes from an age where table etiquette was front and centre, leading to nearly two hundred different eating utensils being designed for different courses and foods. Adopted by an aspiring middle class wishing to dine like the gentrified, the odd utensil was later targeted by high society as an object of ridicule, as Colin Bisset writes.

The fish knife is the epitome of gentility. With a scalloped shaped blade, the end is just pointy enough to pick small bones from a cooked fish, and the flat blade is useful for sliding between the flesh and skin.

The fish knife first appeared in the first half of the nineteenth century in Britain. Thanks to thriving industry and the wealth generated by an expanding Empire, the rising middle-classes aspired to a gentrified way of dining. From the 1850s, dinners were usually served a la russe, which meant as separate courses as opposed to the previous practice of putting all dishes on the table at the same time. This led to the introduction of a variety of implements to help distinguish the serving and eating of everything from oysters to elaborate puddings, making negotiating a dinner a nightmare for those lacking knowledge of table etiquette.

It was a boon for cutlery manufacturers who were able to not only to design and market nearly two hundred eating implements but several styles for each one. (Washing up after these long dinners was certainly an arduous task.) The fish knife was an object of fussy design, solving a problem that was not truly present. It is interesting that they managed to last so long when the other cutlery inventions of the Victorian table have largely vanished.

A fish knife was an essential component for the fish course and they were quickly adapted for dining tables across the newly industrialised world. Made from either plated or solid silver, because ordinary metal blades were believed to blacken when coming into contact with fish, they offered hosts the opportunity to show the world that they could afford to dine in the finest fashion. With ever-more fanciful shapes, some engraved with fish-scales, others as curvaceous as a fish itself, the maritime theme was de rigeur.

The thought of an ordinary silver knife being able to serve the purpose just as well seems to have been politely put to one side. A larger version was often part of a set for the filleting and serving of a fish meant for several diners.

By the end of the First World War, they fell from fashion, at least for the upper classes who had always found them rather vulgar and preferred to use two forks to fillet a fish. As the century progressed, they quickly became an object of ridicule. However, the invention of stainless steel in the 1920s meant that they could be manufactured cheaply and thus anyone who aspired to a posh kind of gentility would be in possession of a set.

Snobbish writers such as poet John Betjeman mocked their use, branding the utensil non-U (the term coined by Nancy Mitford to differentiate those with class from those with pretensions to it). Betjeman's famous poem of 1958 “How To Get On In Society” is a catalogue of names and terms used by the upwardly-mobile, at first sight gently mocking but actually (as Betjeman was) quite savage. 'Phone for the fish knives, Norman,' starts the poem, immediately highlighting a raft of non-U words: phone, fish knives and Norman.

The fish knife was an object of fussy design, solving a problem that was not truly present. It is interesting that they managed to last so long when the other cutlery inventions of the Victorian table have largely vanished.

A visit to any antique shop will however always turn up many sets—many will never have been used. Perhaps, like the fondue set and the parfait dish, their time will come again. They might indeed be reclaimed as symbols for the class warrior and those who despise the snobbism implicit in certain objects.

They remain, however, as an interesting throwback to a time when how one ate was almost more important than what one ate.— By Colin Bisset for Design, 2013

🍽Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber of The RSVP Institute of Etiquette, is the Site Editor for the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia

Etiquette and “U” People

English novelist, biographer and journalist, Nancy Mitford, was one of the “Bright Young People” on the London social scene in the inter-war years. One of the famed Mitford Sisters, she is best remembered for her novels about upper-class life and her sharp, provocative wit. In the 1950s Mitford was identified with the concept of “U” (Upper) and “Non-U” language. Written in jest, but taken seriously whereby, the “U” and “Non-U” language was to identify social origins and standing by words used by people in everyday speech. Because of this, or in spite of it, Mitford was considered an authority on manners and breeding.

If Britain’s Upper-Class is Slipping, it’s Doing it Gracefully

With the gradual disappearance of the English aristocracy into a quagmire of death duties, imperial decline and middle-class impertinence, it is fortunate that we already have a manual of aristocratic behavior and speech which, if it does not entirely explain how a common man can tell an aristocrat when he sees one, at least explains how English aristocrats recognize each other. The book is “Noblesse Oblige,” edited by Nancy Mitford.

Miss Mitford starts off with an essay by Prof. Alan Ross, a Birmingham University, on Upper-Class English Usage which was printed in Helsinki Finland in 1954. Professor Ross, pointing out that “it is solely by their language that the upper classes are distinguished (since they are neither cleaner, richer, nor better educated than anybody else),” has invented a formula to set them apart from the common ruck of humanity. He classifies expressions used by Upper-Class people as “U” while those used by others are characterized as “Non U.” 

Miss Mitford goes along with most of the Ross classifications, and Evelyn Waugh, who contributes his shilling's worth to the discussion, adds some of his own, like Lord Curzon's dictum that “no gentleman has soup at luncheon.” However, according to Ross, luncheon is no longer “U,” having been displaced by “lunch.” “U” people also have dinner in the evening, although “Non-U” speakers (also “U-children” and “U-dogs”) have their dinner in the middle of the day. 

The worst of it is (or was) that a, “non-U speaker has no way of learning the rules sufficiently well to pass as U in U circles. If he doesn’t betray his lowly origins by pronouncing ‘girl’ as ‘gurl’ instead of a modification of ‘gel,’ he’ll probably goof by saying, ‘Excuse my glove’ when about to shake hands.” 

Of course, non-U people and Americans are likely to think that this kind of thing is intended to impress people who are in trade or wear white socks. Actually, according to Strix, who also contributes to Miss Mitford’s Book, “U speech is not, as many believe, an arrogant and ‘snooty’ institution, used mainly like lorgnettes, for outfacing non-U speakers. It is the natural idiom of a comparatively small class and exists to further the purpose of communication with that class.”

Mr. Waugh, in his amusing comment on the subject declares that as a rule grandees avoid one another "unless they are closely related." In a ducal castle, Mr. Waugh declares, you might find "convalescent penurious cousins, advisory experts, sycophants, gigolos and plain blackmailers. The one thing you could be sure of not finding was a concourse of other dukes." An irreverent American might suspect that unrelieved U-ness can be wearying even to the most indisputably U.– Editorial in the Saturday Evening Post, 1957

 🍽Etiquette Enthusiast, Maura J. Graber of The RSVP Institute of Etiquette, is the Site Editor for the Etiquipedia© Etiquette Encyclopedia