GB said:I would argue that part of the "sense stimulation that comes from the dining experience" are the above things you look to eliminate. When I go out for lobster I am sorely disappointed if it is served to me and the shell has been cracked or removed or the tail split in half. That denies me a part of my enjoyment of the overall meal. We go to Maine summer and will only go to restaurants that serve the lobster whole. Any restaurant that opens my bug for me is instantly scratched off the list of places we will return to.
No chicken on the bone? I could not imagine fried chicken any other way.
What about artichokes? They take a lot of work (processing) for very little meat, but what a joy they are.
The list can go on and on.
I'm ending up agreeing with some very divergent opinions! Most of all I agree with GB above, and yet Nicholas' point that food served at a table --particularly a formal table -- should be ready for the guest to eat without having to "process" makes equal sense. So I guess it's Andy's call that it's a matter of common sense and "situational" which ties it all up.
I goofed on this just two nights ago, serving glazed chicken wings and whole, unpeeled prawns to my guests at a very formal dinner. I wasn't oblivious to the problems that would ensue, but, still, I ended up feeling that I'd handled it poorly. I considered finger bowls but thought they'd be seen as pretentious ... then I considered nice moist lemon-ed towels but didn't have any such thing to whip into service ... then I considered supplementing the nice napkins with something paper, but my love of formality and beauty won. And so I did nothing and my guests had very sticky hands which DID make them a bit uncomfortable (emphasis on the "bit" -- Greeks aren't all that formal at the table by nature). Thank heavens discreetly-licked fingers don't offend me in the slightest, in fact, it strikes me as a compliment (I'd better not mention the couple of people -- well-bred both -- who lick their plates when inspired ...)
However, back to GB's comments: there is NOTHING in my world to compare with a Greek Easter lamb, on the spit, whole, over charcoal. And as it quietly twirls and roasts and spits and drips and sends the most incredible smells into the air, if you're a friend of the chef, you'll get a wee bit cut off with his knife -- juice from a lemon just cut in half squeezed over it, the excess dripping merrily onto the grass -- and slipped to you to eat right then and there. On the spot. Standing up. Feeling the heat of the charcoal on your knees.
Then again, there are also clams. Dug in the morning, steamed the same night. Served over newspaper, dunking them in butter with your bare hands.
As for kebabs? Souvlaki in this country comes two ways -- pulled off the skewer and tucked into a pita, or on the skewer with salt, oregano, and lemon, served just into one's hand or into a bag, accompanied with a couple of pieces of bread. It's eaten right off the skewer, in the street as you walk along, just leaning a bit to protect your clothes should a piece slip out of control. If eating it that way is rude ... may I always be so rude!