Can I get some Def Leppard with my sweet tea?

In a special ghost writers edition, the differences between the American and European dining experience is explained. If only they could tell me why water with ice means you only get one ice cube, then this would be true genius.

I wouldn’t say that I’ve traveled abroad extensively, but I think I’ve been outside of the United States more than an average American. To my chagrin, one thing that I’ve noticed about countries in Europe is that they seldom provide a dining experience comparable to what you can find here in the US. Oh sure, indulgence is possible. But let’s think about it for a minute: even casual American eateries are premised on catering to your culinary whims and fancies. The competition for your food dollar is fierce and the battle rages at all times (eat great even late, fourthmeal) and through all seasons (many chain restaurants are open on Thanksgiving and a few even stay open on Christmas). When I go out to Friday’s or Chili’s these days, I expect to really enjoy my meal. And I don’t just mean that the food will taste good. It certainly will taste good; but the waiter will try to make me very happy in most cases; the manager might stop by and ask how everything went in general; the restaurant will make an effort to play some music that at least tangentially connects with my tastes; the décor will be either interesting or thematic in a way that helps divert my mind away from waiting for my food at least momentarily. In short, I’m made to believe that someone is deliberately trying to give me (and my fellow diners) an experience that will be enjoyed, maybe even one that is remembered days later. Good luck finding that in Sweden.

When I dine out in England or Scandinavia, I occasionally enjoy the taste of my food. More often than not, though, it’s bland. No matter how it looks or smells (sometimes the presentation is remarkably impressive) the taste rarely satisfies me. Additionally, I can’t say I ever feel entertained when I sup in European restaurants. I notice other diners around me more, mostly due to a lack of anything interesting going on within the establishment. People-watching has revealed to me a possible cause for this disparity between our dining and the Europeans’: it seems the main attraction for Europeans in restaurants is each other. They are always wrapped up in conversations or romantic gazing at each other and what not. They don’t seem to notice that the place they’re sitting in is snooze-inducing.

Table waiters in Europe are clearly less concerned with individual customers as a matter of economics: the lack of tipping as a societal norm in England and Sweden creates a dynamic where you are no more important to your waiter than his next cigarette break or the attractive brunette two tables away (unless you happen to be an attractive brunette yourself). Ireland is a bit different, as they are trending toward American habits and tipping has become normative, although not to the extent that it is here. But try to imagine table service in Sweden as similar to help you might receive buying groceries at home: available but insincere.
I suppose culture is to blame for these differences in dining between Europe and America. We have become a culture that eats out frequently. In Europe dining out is expensive and the people tend to have less disposable income. Traditionally eating out was considered a treat in America, but now it’s much less exotic. It appears the Europeans may be caught in the old trend that America has moved beyond. Because we eat out so much, we expect to be impressed more lavishly. To a Swede, the dining out is exciting in itself. If I don’t hear Def Leppard or The Eagles while cramming my face with chicken nachos and gulping down free refills of raspberry lemonade and perusing 10-gallon hats and stuffed armadillos, I’m just not living life.