Some thoughts.
I have to confess that I’ve never eaten in France, though I have traveled through it on the train. I didn’t find this problem in Belgium or the Netherlands. But I do find European hours annoying, as well as the fact that I have to almost send out a search party for someone to get me a check when I’m done eating, and want to go. I don’t consider eating out a leisurely social event, to be stretched out as long as possible. That’s one of the many reasons I’m glad that my ancestors left Europe.
[Update late evening]
In response to a comment from Andrea Harris:
It’s not even about taking leisure over courses. Even after dessert, they won’t bring you a bill until you almost hold a gun to their head, because they think it impolite to do so any sooner. It drives me nuts.
I had an argument with a European (my sister, who has become a European, having lived there too long) about this.
“Look, it’s not about making someone leave. In America, bringing the bill isn’t a sign that they want you to leave. It’s a courtesy to allow you to leave if you wish.”
“No, no, that’s so rude. They’re just trying to clear the tables when they are in such a rush to bring the bill.”
Well, that may be true in some cases — they do, after all, and unlike the Europeans, want to make money. But as I told her, my way, and the dreaded American way, I can leave as soon as I want, if I want, and if I don’t want, I don’t have to until they actually are rude, and come over to ask us to leave. The European way, I’m a hostage to the wait staff (or, “the state”) until they deign to provide me with the bill (as an aside, I’ve never understood why it’s called a “check”).
I know which one I like. And it seems like a microcosm of the difference between the US and Europe.
For now, at least.
When it comes to celebratory meals, just remember: the French toast, but the Belgians waffle…
Well I’m halfway. I can understand the pleasures of a leisurely meal. But for every… freaking… meal to be an hours-long multicourse feast… well, for me that would kind of ruin the thing. “Ho hum, another boring long lunch where I’ll sit on my butt and not do anything except chew for a couple of hours…” Sometimes you just want to eat and get on with your day, you know?
I had a boss that used to take me to lunch, which for him was a few Hennessy for a few hours. I’d use that time to turn my ideas into his because he never liked an idea unless it was his so by the end of lunch he thought it was.
Ha ha. Seven pm is practically lunchtime in Spanish-speaking countries. If your hosts are very considerate, they’ll set an early dinner time to humor you, like maybe 10 pm.
I personally wouldn’t care if they brought me the bill or not; when I was ready to go, I’d get up and go. I imagine they’d find the bill soon enough at that point. There is no way I’d allow a restaurant to keep me hostage.
Rand, it’s really easy: when a waiter passes you just say “Could we have the bill please?”. If necessary, wave. In the rare event there isn’t a waiter within earshot or line of sight for more than five minutes, walk over and ask for the bill. It’s really that simple. There are cultural differences within Europe though. In the Netherlands is customary to leave the money + tip on the table when you leave. Staff do swoop in as dignified a way as they can to make sure you’ve paid the correct amount, but I’ve never witnessed anyone cheating. When I tried this is a tandoori restaurant in lovely Swansea, Wales, UK more than ten years ago the waiters thought we were leaving without paying. 🙂
I’ve had trouble getting the bill over here. Once (back in the 80s) a friend and I had gone out to a popular chain, Friday’s, I think, on a busy night. Well we waited and waited and waited for our bill so we could get out of there, but over an hour went by and the waiter seemed to have forgotten our existence. We finally just got up and left without paying.
Nowadays of course I don’t play that game. For one thing, I don’t eat out that much anymore, and for another, I avoid crowded chaos factories like Friday’s. I can’t remember if my mother and I had any trouble getting the bill when we were on our Europe trip, but that was in 1981, so my memories have faded. I will admit one thing, though: we went to England, Scotland, the Netherlands, Belgium, Germany, Austria, Switzerland, Lichtenstein, and France, and the best meals we had were in… England! Yup, and some of those meals weren’t Chinese or Indian. I will say some of the worst meals we had were in England too, including a sandwich that was: two limp pieces of white bread with one thin layer of sliced hard-boiled eggs in between. We did have a very good meal in Germany (culminating in yummy chocolate-and-brandy crepes), but otherwise there was the leather steak in Frankfurt, the merely adequate Swiss steak in Lichtenstein, the bland spaetzle in Innsbruck, and the tough, old rabbit that I could not chew in Geneva. We didn’t spend enough time in France to ascertain more than they were fine with serving weak tea and stale croissants to American tourists.
Not every meal in France is a multi-hour affair with a wait for bills, it depends on what you eat and where you eat. When I used to work in Paris lunch was always eaten out at a favourite restaurant where they had a 2 course lunch special with coffee for 52 Francs. Typically a lot of my co-workers would have some bread for an evening meal on the days they ate lunch.
Two things that drive me insane about eating out in the US. Firstly, I want the bill when I ask for it and not while we’re considering if we’re going to have another drink, or coffees/liquors and the like after the meal.
Second, it’s just damn rude to clear plates from in front of people while other people are still eating.
With respect to Spain. I remember exhibiting at an event in Seville in 2000 which finished at 7pm(ish) – the streets were full of American attendees looking for restaurants. As far as I could tell, unless you wanted a McDonalds, you were out of luck before 10pm.
After 10 was magic though.
They tone things down in Barcelona for Mobile World Congress, but typically 9pm is when people eat there.
ncluding a sandwich that was: two limp pieces of white bread with one thin layer of sliced hard-boiled eggs in between.
I have the opposite problem with sandwiches. (Except egg, can’t stand egg.)
Give me less filling any day. Can’t stand being presented with a Roast Beef sandwich with an inch+ of filling plus a quarter inch of tasteless cheese.
My ritual when I land back at Heathrow is to get through customs and into one of the stores and get a Tuna Sandwich, small packet of Walkers Cheese and Onion crisps and let my taste buds recover from the long haul.
The European way, I’m a hostage to the wait staff (or, “the state”) until they deign to provide me with the bill (as an aside, I’ve never understood why it’s called a “check”).
Like with many things Rand. That might be how you see it. But how you see things and the actual facts aren’t necessarily the same thing.
Another weird little thing you’ll find they do in Europe is either have you enter your PIN number for a credit card transaction, or actually verify that the signature matches the card.
Small things, but they at least give me a modicum of comfort about credit card security.
Your sister may have a point if the server leaves the bill and then disappears. I’ve had that happen, no more drink refills, no walk-by to see if we need anything (my wife often finds the portions are too big for her and will often need a box).
I’ve caused at least two restaurants to review their training because of hijinks like that. And that kind of response demands more from me than just trimming the tip for poor or negligent service.
Don’t even ask about the time our server laid down the check and then spent 15 minutes walking right past my credit card without picking it up.
More filling in a sandwich can be removed. But what can you do with a sandwich with one thin layer of whatever (I also had a ham and cheese sandwich in Glasgow I think which was bread that was at least rye not white, one paper-thin slice of ham, and one paper-thin slice of I think swiss cheese) except hope it fills you up? But I believe they’ve learned to make proper sandwiches since those days.
What I really miss, though, are the desserts. Custard tarts and things with real whipped cream and fresh currants and strawberries, nom nom nom.
“L’addition, s’il vous plait” has always worked just fine for me in France. I prefer French restaurant culture: when I’m there, I eat less, more slowly, and with more attention and pleasure than I do back home. Nevertheless, I switch right back into American eating patterns about a week after I get home no matter how hard I try to shift.