Communal eating is a bread and butter issue. Photo: Shutterstock

Thursday 4th June 2015

Eating the meeting

At last – an etiquette for sharing food with colleagues

A single bead of sweat rolls down your brow. Somewhere, an Ennio Morricone ringtone starts to play. A single danish pastry lies between you and him. There’s not enough danishes on this table for the both of you.

Your fingers twitch as you reach down to your waist to your holstered fork. He does the same. The ringtone slowly fades, then stops abruptly. You lunge forward and spear the danish before he can react. He clutches his heart, groans, and slumps under the table.

People think you’re weird. Why do you even have a fork holster? You don’t even eat pastries with a fork. They don’t understand. They never will.

There are rules of etiquette for eating that stretch back centuries. Vast arcane knowledge of thirteen kinds of spoon, and the hidden difference between pudding and dessert you never knew. But one kind of eating etiquette has been lost to history: eating in meetings.

It really is the Wild West out there. No rules. A bloodthirsty free-for-all. Is it rude to eat while somebody presents something? Does it matter what kind of food it is? Do you offer it to others before taking for yourself?

Fortunately, we at HRville have unearthed an ancient manuscript that details the exact Do’s and Don’ts of eating and drinking at meetings. And we humbly offer our discoveries up for the benefit of everyone.

DO

Scope out the situation in advance

Forewarned is forearmed. Surveillance is key. From there you can plan your strategy. What’s on the menu? A pile of triangular sarnies? A tray of biscuits? A medieval banquet, complete with peacock?

How many people are coming, who are they, what are their dietary preferences? There’s no such thing as too much info. Every meeting is a battlefield and requires military-level planning.

DON’T

Get too attached to your findings

So they have your favourite doughnut. Excellent. But now you need to take a leaf from Buddhism and put the desire out of your mind. Obsessing about the food will distract you, and will inevitably end in irrational fury when you find somebody else nabs what you want before you.

They couldn’t have known you had plans for that doughnut. Deeply personal plans.

DO

Respect the (literal) pecking order

Don’t get between the boss and his sugary snack.

There are stupid mistakes and there are stupid mistakes. Attempt not to snackblock your superiors at any meeting. You may want it more, but ask yourself whether this is really the hill you want to die on.

“Here lies Ms. Smith, passed over for promotion after she elbowed her boss in the face in pursuit of quiche.”

DON’T

See it as a replacement for lunch

As our in-house doctor keeps begging us, snacks are not a replacement for regular meals. (Two popcorn overdoses in the last month alone. Eat your vegetables, people.) Meeting foods are there to stave off hunger and keep you on point, and nothing more.

There’s a reason they don’t give you a knife and fork as you sit down. Plus, meetings might segue into lunch proper, and then you’ll feel like an idiot when you can’t even finish your water and salad.

DO

Time your attack carefully

Times not to start crunching noisily: when the room is totally silent; when a keynote speaker is presenting; when everybody is looking at you.

crunch1
Don’t crunch in moments of comparative quiet.

It might be wisest to avoid noisy foods altogether, but otherwise just use your better judgement. Smuggle your meeting eating during periods of mild commotion, like when the room is all chatting or distracted by something.

DON’T

Be the first to start or the last to finish

Don’t let it be said that our rules are baseless shenanigans invented by charlatans. That would hurt our feelings, and also be at least half wrong.

The truth is, no matter how bad you’re jonesing for a sugar/carb/polyunsaturated fat fix, you don’t want to be the one to break the meeting snack seal. Due to the serial position effect, we tend to remember the first and last things in a sequence. So if you want to avoid a gluttonous rep, let somebody else be the fall guy.

As for taking the last one, we hope that you wouldn’t be doing that anyway, as it is British custom to leave the final one of anything, indefinitely. Legend has it that British explorers who starve to death are always found just a few feet away from a single chocolate digestive, and their last recorded words are always “I couldn’t possibly, I insist!”

DO

Pretend to be deeply refined and civilised

Obviously standards of refinement vary from person to person. But for the lowest common denominator, we give a green light to: eating with your mouth closed, not talking with your mouth full, and generally subscribing to those things your mother taught you before the age of seven.

Be refined, but don’t go crazy.

You get bonus points for sipping rather than slurping, not leaving crumbs in a 180 degree arc around you, and using a plate where appropriate. There’s no need to go full cravat and persevere with a knife and fork when eating muffins. But for god’s sake, use a paper napkin, you animal.

DON’T

Attempt to plunder the table

This isn’t Oliver Twist, and you’re not living on the breadline. No matter how good those stuffed olives or mini sausage rolls are, leave them where they lie. Stuffing your pockets with pastries and cold-cuts is not only the epitome of unclassy, it’s also kind of pathetic.

You’ll eat salami again, and you’re likely to earn some pitying looks if you get caught. Whatever impression you want to make, we’re pretty sure “conniving snack smuggler” is probably not it.

About the author

Jerome Langford

Jerome is a graduate in Philosophy from St Andrews, who alternately spends time writing about HR and staring wistfully out of windows, thinking about life’s bigger questions: Why are we here? How much lunch is too much lunch? What do you mean exactly by ‘final warning’?