Eating in Italy

I know I’ve mentioned snippets about eating in Italy, but it’s time I tackled this one head-on. Obviously the experience isn’t so vastly different that a person would be completely disoriented if he/she walked into a restaurant, sat down, and ordered – but there are several subtleties worth mentioning.

But before I begin, let me acknowledge that there are several different types of places/ways to eat in Italy. You have your café/bar category, which really functions as a marriage of those two things as we know them in the US. You can either order your coffee, alcohol, sandwich (panini), or pastry at the bar and sit, or you can order it and eat/drink it standing at the bar. Most often you pay immediately and often you pay more to sit.

Then you also have your pizzerias. These are more like restaurants in that you almost always sit, but you usually don’t get the full wait staff experience, and sometimes you order before sitting (thus, making them a good, slightly cheaper option). There are also all kinds of random eateries like enotecas (wine bar with small eats), pubs (same), foccaciarias (small bread items to go), or some combination of all of the above.

At full-fledge ristorantes (sometimes called trattorias), as you might expect, they’re a bit nicer and a bit more expensive, but the meals themselves are so much more and the eating is really about enjoying – not just sustenance. So let’s eat, shall we?

First off, when you walk in, it’s entirely possible that you should seat yourself. It depends on the type of place, but often even in nicer places, after they confirm the number in your party, they hold out an arm as if to say – the whole place is yours, sit where you like! Once seated, bread is often brought to you, but unlike at home, it comes at a price: usually 2 EU. And it doesn’t seem to matter if you eat it or not, it comes on your bill no matter what (it actually functions as a kind of cover charge). Not every place will charge you, but most do.

Next comes ordering – which for the most part is the same, except that meals are assembled differently: everything doesn’t come together. Antipasti is still antipasti (appetizers), but after that, it’s all separate. You can choose a primi piatti (or first plate) which is always pasta, or a secondi piatti (second plate), which is always meat, or both. Contorni (side dishes) are separate too and if you want water, you have to pay for it.

Wine though, is cheap and usually comes in portions of liters (1/4, 1/2, etc.) This is nice as it’s easy to share among groups or – if you’re dinning alone – you get more than a glass, but don’t have to order a bottle. Every place has a house wine (even for lunch) and it’s usually pretty good. I usually order a quarto litro (1/4 liter) with my big meal of the day (that’s just a shade over 2 glasses), for about 2 EU. LOVE IT! (I’m especially going to miss this at home.)

After ordering, your meal usually comes out lickety-split, and then the wait staff leave you alone. They let you enjoy your meal for as looooong as you want. Eventually they might stop by to see if you want more or dessert or un café, but unless they’re closing, you’ll have to ask for the check.

Oh and speaking of the wait staff – you don’t have just one waiter or waitress. Anyone in the joint might take your order, deliver your food, clear a plate, bring you a drink, tally your bill – it’s a very collaborative effort. They all manage all the tables and work together to meet the needs of the patrons; no sections like at home. In the same way, the tables are often very close together (definitely inside an American’s bubble) and frequently they will seat small parties together at the same table (I’ve eaten many a meal this way). There doesn’t seem to be the same concept of “personal space” that we have. They eat together, work together, share together – if you can unclench long enough to embrace it, it’s actually quite welcoming; certainly an inclusive culture.

When you’re ready, you can have dessert (dolce), coffee (un café), or a digestivo (alcoholic drink to “aid” digestion). Once you get the bill, you pay up and don’t leave a tip. Perhaps if the service was particularly good: 5-10%. Otherwise, as a general rule, Italians don’t tip. And the whole thing takes at least an hour…and that’s just me by myself!!

(P.S. If there are any DeFurias out there...doesn't that carafe make you think of gram and gramps?? I know I do every time I get one...)