“Les Bonnes manières” or “the good manners” are a foundation of French culture. If you’ve ever sat down to dessert in France and felt completely unprepared, you’re not alone. The first time I was served fruit at a formal dinner with my future in-laws, someone casually mentioned—without looking directly at me—that fruit should be cut with a fork and knife. I remember freezing for a second, unsure whether to laugh, apologize, or disappear under the table. It wasn’t said unkindly, but the message was clear: in France, even a simple peach has its protocol. That quiet moment stayed with me—not just because I felt mildly mortified, but because it marked the beginning of a long, often unspoken, education in French manners and etiquette.
The Fruit Fork Moment
So there I was, holding a slice of peach with my fingers like a child at a picnic, while everyone else delicately carved theirs into neat little bites. I tried to recover gracefully—placed it back on the plate, picked up my utensils, and mimicked the technique, cheeks burning. No one said anything else, but the lesson had landed.
In France, table manners and etiquette aren’t about strict rules so much as they are about not imposing yourself on others. Eating neatly, quietly, politely—it’s a form of elegance. A way of blending in rather than drawing attention.
Cutlery for Everything
Over time, I began to notice other small but telling habits. Pizza is often eaten with a knife and fork. So are hamburgers. Even fries—fries!—are sometimes speared one by one like tiny delicacies.
At first I found it amusing, even performative. But the more I lived here, the more I understood that these rituals aren’t about pretension—they’re about pudeur, a kind of gentle modesty that runs through so much of French life.
Indoor Voice Culture
That same sense of discretion extends beyond the table. It wasn’t long before I learned that how you speak in public matters just as much as how you eat.
One afternoon, early in my relationship, I was chatting animatedly with a friend in a quiet café when I felt my partner gently tap my arm. “Un peu moins fort,” he whispered, almost apologetically. I hadn’t thought I was being loud. Back home, I would have called it normal conversation. Here, I was disturbing the peace.
At first, I took offense. Why should expressing joy—or even just enthusiasm—be seen as disruptive? But slowly, I realized that in France, volume often reads as vulgar. It’s not just about noise—it’s about presence. Taking up too much sonic space is considered intrusive, especially in shared environments like cafés, boutiques, locker rooms, or the métro. The unspoken rule? Be mindful, not just of what you say, but of how it might ripple into someone else’s atmosphere.
And interestingly, this isn’t about being silenced—it’s about holding yourself with restraint. A kind of social choreography where everyone is expected to move elegantly, speak softly, and keep their feelings neatly folded inside. For better or worse, it’s part of the code.
In France, volume often reads as vulgar. It’s not just about noise—it’s about presence. Taking up too much sonic space is considered intrusive. The unspoken rule? Be mindful, not just of what you say, but how it might ripple into someone else’s atmosphere.
Bonjour Before Anything
Another lesson: always say bonjour. Before asking a question, before ordering at a bakery, before speaking to a receptionist or shop assistant, greet them first. Failing to say bonjour can come across as rude, entitled, or even aggressive. It’s not just a nicety—it’s the gateway to a respectful exchange. I once watched someone try to return an item in a shop without so much as a hello and saw the clerk ice over instantly. No bonjour, no help.
The Wine-Pouring Rule
One of the subtler pieces of French table etiquette I’ve come to admire is what I’ve dubbed the wine-pouring code. At formal dinners, particularly at home, it’s considered polite for men—especially the host or a male guest—to discreetly keep an eye on everyone’s glass and offer to refill it, especially for the women at the table.
It’s a gesture rooted in traditional etiquette rather than modern gender norms, and in many families or social circles, it’s still observed. While not a hard-and-fast rule (and absolutely not expected in all settings), I’ve seen it play out many times—always wordlessly, almost ceremoniously.
Interestingly, French etiquette discourages anyone from pouring their own wine at the table unless they are serving others too. This small act of attentiveness contributes to the broader rhythm of a French meal, where generosity and grace take precedence over individual convenience.
What Are Manners Like in France?
French manners and etiquette are deeply ingrained and often subtle. While some customs may seem bizarre or overly formal to outsiders—like eating a hamburger with cutlery or avoiding loud conversations—they’re part of a shared cultural fabric that values restraint, privacy, and social grace. Understanding these small codes can make a huge difference when visiting or living in France.
Common French Faux Pas to Avoid
- Speaking too loudly in public spaces
- Forgetting to say “bonjour” before any interaction
- Eating with your hands
- Pouring your own wine before offering to others
- Asking personal questions too soon
- Overly enthusiastic small talk with strangers
Final Thoughts
French manners aren’t about perfection. They’re about paying attention. There’s a beauty in that—a quiet discipline that gives daily life a bit more structure and mutual respect. I still forget things sometimes. I still get shushed now and then. But I’ve come to appreciate these codes, even if I don’t follow all of them perfectly.
They remind me that good etiquette, in any country, are often less about rules than about empathy. About thinking of the person across from you—whether you’re sharing a peach or a conversation.
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