There are various etiquette gurus around these days who are always telling us the correct way to do things. How to eat a banana, for example. I’m not actually particularly interested in the correct way to eat a banana. I’m much more interested in the correct way to act in an Italian restaurant, which is where we happen to be at the moment.

And there are three things which, although perfectly acceptable today, were not always quite so acceptable in the past.

The first is something known in Italian as fare la scarpetta, which literally means something like ‘making a little shoe’. What it means in practice is that, when you’ve finished your plate of food and there is still some delicious sauce left on it, you take a piece of bread and use it to mop up the remains.

Italian bread is particularly well suited to this activity, being wonderfully absorbent, and I have to say that, for me, it is often the most delicious part of the entire meal. There’s something immensely satisfying about getting every last bit of that sauce, rather than leaving it stranded on the plate.

Why is it called fare la scarpetta? I have no idea, although I rather like the theory that the piece of bread resembles a little shoe scraping up whatever is left behind. There are other explanations, no doubt, but whatever its origins, the practice is widespread in Italy and is perfectly acceptable. Indeed, refusing to mop up a particularly good sauce seems to me almost a waste of the cook’s efforts.

Of course, there may be situations in which one should exercise a little discretion. But in an ordinary Italian trattoria, provided you’re not flinging bread around or licking the plate, I see no reason why one shouldn’t enjoy oneself.

The second thing is the doggy bag. The expression sounds rather strange in Italian, where you might ask for una vaschetta per portare via or simply ask whether you can take the leftovers home. The idea is straightforward enough.

Sometimes Italian restaurant portions are simply too large for one person to finish. This is particularly true when you have ordered several courses, as one is sometimes encouraged to do. You may have enjoyed your antipasto, your primo and your secondo, but by the time the last of these arrives, there is only so much room left.

What is the point of leaving perfectly good food behind? It is wasteful, environmentally as well as economically, and it seems to me a pity to throw away something which somebody has taken time and trouble to prepare.

I would go further. Asking to take the leftovers home can be a compliment to the restaurant. It means that the food is good enough to enjoy a second time. You may not have the capacity to finish it all there and then, but you certainly don’t want to waste it.

Sandra and I have been asking for containers to take our leftovers home for years. We frequently find that we cannot manage the portions served to us, and so the following day we have another little meal waiting for us. It is economical, sensible and, provided the food is stored and reheated properly, perfectly practical.

And this applies to almost everything on the menu. Well, perhaps not quite everything. There is one category of food for which we seldom need to ask for a container: sweets. Somehow, we always seem to find room for those.

The third point is about tipping.

In Italy, you are not expected to tip in the way that you might be in the United States, where tips can form a substantial part of a restaurant worker’s income. Italian restaurant staff are not generally dependent on customers providing tips in the same way.

There is also the coperto, which is a charge that may appear on your bill for the place setting and the associated service. Depending on the restaurant, this may cover such things as the tablecloth, cutlery and bread. It is worth remembering, though, that coperto is not itself a service charge, and that the precise arrangements vary from one establishment to another. Some restaurants charge it; others do not.

So there is certainly no need to feel obliged to add a tip on top of the bill. If you have enjoyed the meal, a sincere grazie mille, a compliment to the cook or a promise to return will usually be warmly received. Naturally, if you particularly want to leave a little extra for good service, that is your choice, but it is not an obligation.

My only concern is that customs imported from elsewhere can gradually become expectations. If everybody begins tipping as a matter of course, it may eventually be assumed that customers ought to do so. I would rather we kept the pleasure of eating out separate from the anxiety of working out how much extra we are supposed to pay.

So there we are: three simple things to remember when eating in an Italian restaurant.

First, don’t be afraid to fare la scarpetta and mop up that delicious sauce with a piece of bread.

Second, if you cannot finish your meal, ask to take the leftovers home. There is no virtue in wasting perfectly good food.

And third, don’t feel obliged to leave a tip. A heartfelt thank you, a compliment and the promise of another visit can be worth a great deal.

And now, if you’ll excuse me, I have some sauce left on my plate.