Five ways to drive an Italian waiter crazy, plus 1

The following post was written by my new friend, Susan, and is so fresh and honest that I just want to reblog it. I would only add one other thing at the end, so it is now 6 easy things you can do to quickly offend your server!

From Susan’s blog: Americans in Umbria:

Monday, September 26, 2011

5 things to do to drive an Italian waiter crazy

Rule number 1 to make the waitress crazy.
1.  Talk to your waitress in English in a loud voice even though she has addressed you in Italian.  Here’s the thing.  If someone speaks Italian to you it is because they don’t know English!  They know you are not Italian.  Trust me, they know.  If the waitress is young and doesn’t know English she will be embarrassed because she thinks she ought to know English.  If the waitress is older, she may be defensive and rude because she thinks you should know Italian. Speaking to them loudly in pidgin English won’t help either.  The waitress will just look shell shocked and not know what to do.

What you should do is ask, “Parla Inglese?”  If the waitress does not, she is more likely to find you someone who can.

2.  Order items out of order.  Italians may look like there is no order or system in their lives, but it isn’t true.  It is just different from Americans.  Italians are very ordered around food.  They are very serious about food.  To them, eating is not just putting calories in your system that will later be burned off.  So, there is an order in giving your order.  You will first be asked about water.  Do you want water with gas or natural.  This question needs to be answered first and then the waitress disappears while you look at the menu.  If someone shouts out beer, and someone else shouts out spaghetti, the waitress will get the same shell shocked look and god knows what you will get.  Probably the owner.  So allow the waitress to take your order in her manner.  People should go one at a time and stay on the same course.

3.  The next things that will drive her crazy.  At a table of 4 have one person order an antipasta, one person order a primi, the other person order a secondi and the last person orders a salad, which oh by the way is not on the menu.  So the American asks, “Do you have a mixed salad?” to the owner.  (The waitress has now high tailed it to the kitchen.) The owner says, “Yes, of course.”  The American says, “Where is it on the menu?”  The owner says, “It isn’t on the menu.”  The American says,”What’s in it?”  The owner says, “We make it for you what do you want in it?” The American says how many Euros?  The owner says 3.  The American says, ok my husband and I will split it.”  Now everything is out of order.  The salad, which usually comes last, is expected first.  The antipasti which should arrive first is now matched up with the primi and the secondi.  There is confusion everywhere, and everyone seems unhappy.

4.  Walk into a ristorante that offers “Typical Umbrian food” and expect a full menu of things you would eat in the states.  Oh by the way, Umbrians do not think their food is Italian.  It is Umbrian. It is different from the food in Tuscany, way different from the food in Rome and Naples.  It is generally grilled meat and meat sauce with pasta.  Very little tomatoes and very little butter.  Cheese is big.  It is usually made in house.  It is good, but unless you are at a large city, like Perugia, you are going to see pretty much the same thing on the menus because Umbrian food is pretty much the same thing, if you get my drift.

5.  The final thing to do to make your waitress crazy is to order a pizza at lunch.  Italians eat their pizza for dinner and it isn’t available at lunch.  Why is this? The wood pizza ovens are too hot to heat up during the day. There are some places that sell pizza by the slice at lunch, like in the grocery mall.  Need I say more?  One last thing once if you order pizza for dinner, ask for your left over pizza to go home with you.  The Italians are horrified by this.  Why?  Because they think warmed over pizza is disgusting and why would you do that to a food you can go and get fresh.

How do I know all of these things?  I have done everyone of them.

Thanks, Susan.  You are soooooo right!

And now, for my additional thing:

6.  The best way that I know of to convince your Italian server or manager/owner that you are a heathen from another country is to order a cappuccino after a meal.  Unless it is breakfast, or a mid-morning merenda, do not order any coffee drink with any milk in it after 12:00 p.m.  You may order a cappuccino and they will begrudgingly serve it to you, but just know that deep down inside they think you are uncivilized and know nothing about  how to enjoy food and drink.  You may order un caffe’ without a problem–in fact Italians think that an espresso after a meal helps with digestion–but never, never order a cappuccino. If you absolutely, positively must have milk in your coffee and it is after noon, you can order a macchiato with approbation, but I’m willing to bet that if what you really want is a cappuccino, you will not be satisfied with a macchiato.  Just sayin  My recommendation to you is to simply wait for morning!

A security gaggle.

I am always entertained by the groups of Italian security police who gather at whatever place they need to protect.  If there is more than one of them, they get together to talk, with their machine guns pointed at the floor.

I don’t know how these guards would act if a crime was being committed, but I do think that they are probably missing out on a lot of petty thievery.  This picture was taken yesterday at the Florence train station, and I would bet anything that someone was having their pocket picked while these officers chatted about….who knows what?

I hope Italy and Florence never have a serious event where serious security is needed.

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Lemon tree, so very pretty!

If I were still living my old and easy life, back in the USA, I would never write this kind of post.  However, as you know, I’m in Florence, building a new life from the ground up.  It takes time (ci vuole tempo) and a lot of perseverance and just plain hard work to build a new life in a new country, no matter how many times you were in that country on vacation.

I’m not complaining!  I love this challenge.  But my little daily victories might not seem like much of anything, but to me they are ginormous.  And that brings me to my new lemon tree!

Here it is in all of its new splendor on my Florentine terrazzo.  Isn’t she pretty?  I think she will have a name and I’m considering the possibilities, but in the meantime, let me share my small win.

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So, first of all, I never dreamed in my life that I would ever be able to grow a lemon tree! And it remains to be seen if I can.  But, here I am, living in a place where it is possible to do!  That right there is a big victory for me.

She has two large lemons already (can you see them, hanging near the bottom–the so-called “low lying fruit” that are so easy to pick when discussing politics) and I think I spotted a bud for a 3rd.

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Another aspect of this small win is that I spotted my tree in a forgotten corner of my local supermarket, a place I go at least every other day.  Don’t forget I carry all my supplies and groceries home, bag by bag, and you know I only have the two hands!

My lonely lemon tree was sitting next to one friend, who, I must say, was not as attractive as mine.  And it only had one lemon hanging.  I looked and looked, turning both pots around and around, looking for the price.  Not found.  So, I summoned up my courage and said mi scusi to the store manager, who is often to be seen sitting in his tiny cage of an office near the front door of the store.  He turned and I asked him, in my best student Italiano, “how much are the lemon trees?”

He looked confused (was it my accent, or my murdering of Italian?), then he asked me, in italiano, “what lemon trees?”

I replied that I would show him and he went with me to the outside corner of the store and he turned the two pots around and around and he couldn’t find a price for them either.  But he had a resource!  I followed him into his office and he looked the price up on the computer.

He told me that the trees were 24.99 Euro oggi (Wednesday), but he leaked some valuable info to me.  And here is where my victory begins!  I understood what he was telling me.  So, I casually asked, in Italian, “well, what will the price be tomorrow?”  The truth is I would have happily paid 25 Euro to become a lemon tree grower.

He smiled (Florentines are thrifty people) at me and said domani the price will be 19 Euro, but you have to have a Conad loyalty card!  I smiled back and said “I have a loyalty card” in italiano and I added, in italian, that I was afraid that if I waited until tomorrow my tree would be gone, someone else will buy it.  He hear and understood me and he offered me a solution. He said he would hold the tree for me!!

He got some paper and asked for my name.  Now, here is another virtue, for me personally, of living in Italia.  In every other place I have ever lived or visited, I have had to spell my long, unusual name.  Not a big deal, but it gets tiresome.  People usually misspell it anyway and so I typically, in the USA, say my name is Laura.  That’s the root of my name anyhow and much easier for people to navigate.

But, I’m living in Italia now and, by some quirk of destiny, I have an Italian name! How I came by my name is a long story, but just know that I have no Italian heritage and my grandmother had my name before me in a similar fluke history.

So, Wednesday, with the store manager in Florence, I proudly pronounced my name the correct way and he wrote it down without one missing letter!  and he didn’t turn any of the letters around either!  These are always very satisfying moments!

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So, I watched him write my name, tape it to the pot, and pick up and carry my tree to the back room.  I waited anxiously because the truth is that I didn’t know if he wanted me to pay for it then and pick it up tomorrow or if I was supposed to come back tomorrow.

I quickly decided to stop looking so needy and do what I’d do if I were at home in the states.  I left the store, planning to arrive the next day to pay and pick up my plant.

And, that’s what I did.  And it worked perfectly! And I got my new tree for 19.99Euro with my Conad card!

I’ll just add that yesterday, when I went to pick up my tree, it was pouring rain and the store was almost empty.  I have never seen it so deserted.  So, when I carried my lovely up to the cassa there were two bored cashier ladies, and their eyes lit up when they saw my beautiful tree come around the corner.  They kept remarking how “bellina” my tree is and asked me if I had a place outdoors to grow it.  I happily assured them that I did!  They seemed genuinely happy for me and my tree!

And, now my lovely little lemon tree is sitting in a place of honor my living room, waiting for warmer weather and the opportunity to grow as nature intended, in the heat and sun of a Tuscan summer!

Wish me luck! In bocca al lupo!

What I learned at the Florentine Cavalcada last Saturday

I was riding horses before I could walk.  You may think I am exaggerating, but this is true.  I wasn’t riding solo as a baby and toddler, but I was in the arms of my dad as he sat atop his horses. And, I was riding solo by the time I was 5 or so, and competing in amateur rodeos throughout my childhood and tween years.  Then I developed a voice of my own and stopped riding.

Because of my equestrian background, I believed I had seen it all.  But, not so!

 

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I don’t know if you can see it in these 2 photos, but it is possible to bow to authority on a horse.  I had never seen this before!

During the Cavalada in Florence last Saturday, in honor of the national holiday of Epiphany, a moment arrived in which all the participants in the parade bowed their heads before the religious and civic leaders on the podium.  And to my amazement, the equestrians bowed their heads while leaning as far forward as possible over the back of their horses.  As well, they all held their right arms as far back as they could.  And, they held this pose for several minutes.  There was no mistaking it: these horseback riders were bowing.

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Live and learn and Italy is the best place in the world for me to do it!!

One last look at Florence at Christmas

A tree composed of silverware in a design studio.

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Last minute gifts:

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The main side streets around the Centro:

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The northwest corner of the Ponte Vecchio:

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Near Ponte Santa Trinita:

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Candy store: Mignone:

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Piazza del Duomo:

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The beautiful tree near the Duomo.  Last year it was adorned with Florentine flour-de-lis ornaments, but not this year.

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Il Palazzo Vecchio:

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Rinascente department store:

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More side streets:

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