Formal lunches have become even more awkward for me 
during the Summer Retreat then they were during the
winter, when I was new and focused on mastering the
protocols. On these occasions, we get in line by dharma
age, fill our begging bowl with selections from the table,
and walk solemnly past the throng of lay practitioners. They
stand to one side, palms together, until the last of us has
passed by. Only then can they approach the lay table to
serve themselves.

Excerpt from EVERY BUDDHA SAME PRICE, page 344