Italian Time

When I travel, I like to spot the differences between my home country and my host country. This can actually be a challenge, because what often stands out the most between the two are the similarities. I have found, through traveling to Japan, Canada, France, Germany, The Czech Republic, Bermuda, Iceland, England, and now Italy that the main commonality among every country is the simple fact that people are nice everywhere.

Sure, there are jerks, too, though maybe I'm less inclined to notice them when I can't understand what they're saying.

Mostly, though, people will find a way to help you. A smile and a (polite) hand gesture can go a long

Dessert!

 way. Making a good faith attempt to stumble through the local language helps, too. A lot. In fact, the single biggest tip I can offer for anyone traveling to a country where you don't know the language is to try to learn a few simple words before you go. "Hello," "Goodbye," and "Thank you," will get you far. "How much does that cost?" "Where is the bathroom?" and "I would like to have (for ordering food)" get you bonus points. Your pronunciation does not have to be perfect. Trust me.

But I digress. While in Italy, I discovered the phenomenon known as Italian Time. This was highlighted in my experience with the Three Main Differences of Eating in a Restaurant in Italy:

• How you are seated
• How you are charged
• How you get the check

How you are seated: 

When approaching an Italian restaurant, unless it's the kind of place with linen tablecloths that takes reservations, you simply catch the eye of a member of the waitstaff and gesture to a table. They nod. You sit. That's all there is to it. There's no, "Have you been here before?" chit chat. No waiting around to be seated in whatever section. Just sit down. And if you can't catch the eye of someone, sit anyway. They'll find you.

How you are charged: 

Italians don't tip. This felt weird until I realized that service is compensated, just in a different way. At Italian cafes, there is typically a bar and a seating area. If you order your coffee and treat and stand to eat it at the bar, you pay one (cheaper) price. If you choose to sit, your items cost a bit more. Menus typically list two sets of pricing so you can see at a glance how you will pay differently based

One of the best things I've ever eaten.

on whether or not you want table service. There is also usually a cover charge ("coperto") of about two euros or so per person. This covers the bread they put on table (whether or not you eat it), and helps offset the charge for service. Then, service proceeds as usual (until you get to the check; more on that in a minute).

I like this a lot. Servers deserved to be paid a living wage, and I like having the pricing set to accommodate that. If you don't want to pay for someone to bring you your food, stand at the bar or eat at home. Boom.

Other than that, throughout the meal, it's business as usual, only with better food than at home. I kid. But not really. Italian food tends to be fresher, with better ingredients. Sure, they use butter and salt in their cooking but the food doesn't seem drowned by it. Restaurant portions were bigger than I expected, but not as big as the behemoth plates we get in the States.

How you get the check: 

Here's where it gets interesting. Italian table service is very similar to the States in that a server comes over, greets you, and asks what you would like to drink. They do charge for water, but I don't mind because you get good quality bottled water for cheap and it's delightful. I tended to ask for "frizzante" rather than "naturale" water (carbonated rather than still) because it felt more elegant. Plus, a euro fifty (little less than two dollars) for a liter of sparkling water is cheap, compared to what we would pay for a bottle of Perrier at home.

Everything else feels similar. You give your order ("Prendo pasta a la carbonara, per favore..." or if you want to get really fancy, "Io vorrei pasta a la carbonara..."), your food comes (quickly), and you eat yourself into a pasta coma of carb-heavy goodness.

Then, coffee, which, unless you ask for an "Americano" (do not do this; there should be a rule against

Cafe freddo

drinking American-style coffee in Italy), you get a shot of espresso. Once I figured out how to order it, I asked for a Cafe Freddo (iced coffee), which was delightful and not at all the watered down, overdone mess we get in the States. On rare occasion, usually in the morning when I wanted a little more of something in my stomach, I ordered a cappuccino.

You finish your coffee and then ... nothing. Radio silence. At the nicer places, the server might say, "Okay, then, enjoy the table!" and wander off, leaving you to feel free to stay at that table all night long, if you wish. With most places, the servers simply walk away. Period.

This was nice when I didn't have anywhere to be, or when I wanted to enjoy the view, but sometimes, I was ready to leave, and couldn't, because I couldn't find the darn waiter to pay the check. At one place, I had done a really lovely yet very long walk that took most of the afternoon, my friend and I wolfed our food, and then we were ready to get out of there, yet it took forever to get that waiter's eye. When we did, I said, "Il conto, per favore," and he smiled, and nodded, and then did 15 other things for a while, then took a nap, apparently, until I asked again. Finally, we were able to pay and leave.

A few days later, we had lunch at a great cafe neat the Duomo. The location was beautiful, the food was fantastic, I enjoyed my cafe freddo, I asked for the check, the waitress nodded...and then did lots of other things. For an hour.

That's right. An hour. We kept trying to flag her down, without success. The Italian women at the table next to use overheard us talking and said they would help. They called over a different waiter, said some things in Italian, he nodded and hurried off. Still no check. The ladies shrugged. "This is Italy," she said. "We deal with this all the time. You just have to accept it."

Finally, the man came back with the check. Except, it wasn't our check. So we had to send him off

You pay extra for the finery, and I am okay with that.

again. Eventually, he came back with the correct check, it took another 15 minutes for him to run and get his little handheld credit card machine and come back to accept payment, and finally - finally! - we were free!

Every since that lunch, I have worked on internalizing the concept of Italian Time. This was actually helpful once I got back to my job in the States. No need to stress about getting caught up on emails; I'm on Italian Time! Everything gets done when it needs to. Sit back and accept it. That's just the way it is.