LOUD TALKERS IN A RESTAURANT - a snapshot of the Millenials Joyeating

LOUD TALKERS IN A RESTAURANT - a snapshot of the Millenials "Joyeating"

Picture by Frank Bryan

I can feel how the Millenials are salivating already expecting a story about them and only them... I will attempt to do that. My story is based on the valid and reliable data gathered by being a good foodie myself (so is my husband), and our habit to eat out at places, where we meet plenty of guys from the group of the Millenials.

This generation's age varies in the literature, but for the most part includes the individuals born between the early 80s and ends with these born in the early 90s. We will all be in a restaurant. This is the place of action for everything I know about their "joyeating."  I will take credit for this word - joyeating. It best describes the environment they create when eating and drinking in a restaurant.

If you live in USA, you are already used to the idea that there are no intimate Friday dates at a restaurant. There are, but not of the kind the baby boomers know them. There are mostly groups eating and drinking at not too upscale restaurants, sports bars, ethnic places, offering a large variety of dishes. 

Friday evening is not a time to dine with a boyfriend in a quiet setting. The romantic dinners with soft jazz and holding hands are mostly in my dreams. Yes, I am an old fashioned baby boomer. It was not too many years ago, when my husband and I would stop by our favorite French restaurant to exhale from work. The piano would play; the nice wine would flow; the owner would be French - no need to imitate French accent; the food would be not what you can cook at home. Of course, we paid the price and tip for it. It was worth being more frugal the next week.

When you go to a fast food place, you expect fast food; when you go to IKEA's $.99 breakfast, you are prepared to see the long line of parents with kids and young guys carrying their hangover. You can see Millenials at these type of places for a quick breakfast. But I am trying to get to my Friday evening Millenials.

I love them to death -all of them - because most of them are genuine, what you see is what you get. They are everything the baby boomers are not and a lot more!! If you do not like something about them, do not tell any-body from the group. In one second every-body will know. It is what it is.... We may be their parents or grandparents, but they are not wasting time to show everyone who they are.

First important sign of the peeps: Millenials talk loud all the time. I, on the other hand, am a low talker. I can be loud, too - only when I am mad and someone really walks on my last nerve. This is not hard to accomplish. ... American loud is not like the Italian loud, it is not music to my ears. Ha,ha! Yes, they are bothering me in a restaurant, because I have to scream, in order to be heard by my husband. Dinner turns into a screaming match. Involuntary, I become part of their world. ...

Well, we better get used to it, the Millenials are not going to change for anyone.

When waiters see a group of Millenials, they know there is no big tip coming. There will be skating like a hockey player around the table to accommodate everybodies' wishes. And [boy] do they have any? They always need to have an item that is not exactly like the one on the menu; they will ask for combination of items on the menu; they will always have questions. The Millenials like it more spicy, not too spicy (whatever in there mind the standard is), substitute for this with a substitute for that. The waiters may start confusing themselves - totally losing their minds and knowledge of the menu and food preparation. There is no empathy for their job. If a Millennial spends 10 bucks, s/he expects his food wishes fulfilled exactly as requested. If they are not, the plates go back to the kitchen after being tasted, new ones have to come. This time, they better get it right, because there is no pay for the first one. 

They like food sharing. Everyone tastes everyone's food. This event turns into vultures fighting over limited number of pieces. You snooze, you lose. Food sharing is also the preferred option because all ethnic restaurants offer variety of breads, which come free. This way, they can skip expense for a main course. They love healthy food and not-so-healthy food. They like exotic and anything that "looks good" and "smells good". In some ways they are like sweet puppies or my buddy Tiger, The cat. 

What I really like about these peeps is that they barely have any secrets. It is  completely contrary to how the older generations live their lives. We always hide every tragedy in our lives, while bragging about jobs, houses, vacations - everything else. Our life is all roses... The Millenials 'presumably' talk about their jobs, but only to explain how busy it makes them and how tired they get; there is no time for what they really want to do - play. But, don't get me wrong, work is a way to pay the bills and afford the games they like to play. The Millenials don't like to be unemployed; they have student loans to pay, rent to pay, car loan to pay, all the technology gadgets cost money, too. What about the outdoor sports equipment? 

If you are a dumb boss of  a Millenial, she has told you already that she does most of the work in the office and brings most of the money, therefore she should get a raise. If she does not get one, even in this job market, she will be gone soon. If you are not that dumb of a boss, you have to give some yoga time or flex time, or doggy time, or something.... It is an investment, not an expense!!

Besides work and technology, texting during dinner, there is a lot of sex talk at the table. Since they delay marriage, they have free sex talk and everyone is comfortable with that. There is less "let me buy you a drink" - old-fashioned style hook ups, but karaoke is still in style. I have absolutely no problem with the sex talk. It just sounds like they need more sex education at school, or more talks with mom, or dad at an earlier time of their sexual development. Nonetheless, what is "joyeating" without sex talk?

Or, maybe, I don't know what I am talking 'bout. ...  Afterall, this is just a blog....

Image courtesy of imajerymajestic from FreeDigitalPhotos.com

TASTY & TESTY SUMMER TRIP TO BULGARIA

 TASTY & TESTY TRIP TO BULGARIA

Going back to Bulgaria once in a while is about getting in a world I have left many years ago. I keep coming back to see if the sea is deeper, the mountains are higher, the people are as hospitable as they were before. Did the trials and errors of the politicians and economy have changed them? I kept my eyes wide open. I did not want to miss a thing.

I will not write a tour guide, or a beautiful story of the country, often neglected by foreigners, who favor the bordering countries -- Turkey or Greece. The Internet has plenty of them all. "This is Bulgaria" trailer on YouTube takes you masterfully into this tiny country in Eastern Europe and leaves you in one minute wondering how in the world you did not know about it. 

I am born and raised in Bulgaria. I visited her this summer along with my American husband and my family, residing in other parts of Europe. 

We all admired the beauty of the land, the little villages with churches; some were more preserved than the houses around; the pleasant Mediterranean climate, the beaches and the Black Sea. My husband was very excited about the trip (his second one.) It was supposed to be a laid-back, relaxing vacation, lying at the beach with family, eating nice food, engaging in the endless Bulgarian conversations. No plans, no pressure. 

My husband knows the food in Bulgaria is fresh and he will eat a LOT of it... I don't blame him. Americans love to eat. Without good food, the vacation is never complete. 
 
The first meal did not disappoint. It was sooo delicious, all countries' representatives at the table gave it a "hands down."  We called it "Bulgarian version of the Mexican fajitas." 

In my opinion, it was 10 times better. It had an abundance of vegetables -- eggplants, squash, onions, potatoes, garlic, peppers. Meat was represented by pork and chicken. Many spices, herbs, flavors... It was cooked in a deep cast iron pan -- slowly, very slowly, to allow each ingredient to have enough play time with the others.
 

I already said the blog post is about "tasty and testy." We already had the tasty. The testy, annoying, making you scream part was the customer service. 

My husband was the only one at the table not speaking Bulgarian. The rest were multi-language speakers.  Sometimes, among Bulgarians, I get away with not translating everything to him. Not this time. When I translate with one sentence a long conversation, it is clear to him, I am skipping what he is not supposed to know. So, I translated every word the waiter in a restaurant said to us. The commotion, the facial expression spoke for themselves. In response to our question about the wait time, he answered,"Do you expect me to go to the kitchen and cook for you?"

Just like that! Testy, uuuhhh. In a split second, the kitchen magic was gone. Our jaws dropped. 

We are both foodies. In the restaurant world we live, we have not witnessed anything like that. But, the good food compensated for the bad customer service. The waiter "took the cake."

It was a complete relief to see a  totally different type of service in a small village restaurant. What we did not find in the big city, we found it in the village. We saw the true, down to earth, friendly people, unscathed by any filth in life. They did not care who is from where. They smiled... They showed all they are capable to cook and it stood up in our minds. Everyone back in USA heard stories about the village, the hospitality and the smiles.

The Black Sea resorts offer in many areas the "Everything Included" business model. Extended eating hours, bars, restaurants. Variety was there, but cooking for hundreds of people coming at the same time always affects the taste and abundance of the most popular dishes. I could never get up early enough to get all the fruits I like, nor did I get the signature sweet bread. At least, I boast about making it around Easter in USA. However, all the kids were happy; they did not ask for variety.

Keeping it real, there is food and drinks all the time, clean pools next to the hotels, work-out areas, entertainments for children and adults -- tennis, children shows, saunas, massages,  aerobics. The Sea itself presents a memorable view. 

We snuck out one day to see a small little town close by. The old part with the souvenirs and handmade crocheted table cloths, the rose oil and rose beauty creams filled my bag. Excellent presents. All my friends smell like Bulgarian roses now. 

The cobble streets took us to a fantastic little restaurant. My husband got the fish of his dreams - turbot, the famous Bulgarian salad, and fresh mussels. It is all captured in the pictures below.

We had 3 hours of food blitz. I wish it was more. We met a young man, who served us. He was very serious at the beginning, but once he learned I was Bulgarian, he warmed up. He told us that every day they serve fish, whose road from the net to being cooked and served is very short. "Come again in the evening. There is music playing. I will save you a table!" He offered. We wish we could.

I am trying to save the real testy for last. It was again customer service, who made us think of not going to the same hotel again. It must have been our bad luck. 

It really weighs heavy on my heart. Americans say "nothing hurts like the truth." I debated a lot if I should be the one to criticize constructively, or I should be like most of the other expats in USA -- soaking in nostalgia, enjoying every visit without being bothered by the sand in my shoes.

I choose to stay true to myself.

It is not unusual to have problems with Internet connection in most European hotels. We had to find this special corner in the room or in the common areas, where the signal is strong enough to connect with my husband's office. Both of our phones could not be used at the same time. I gave up my rights in favor of the work my husband did. He needed to be in touch with  his office and did real work during vacation.

One day, the internet was down in any location of the hotel. We went to the reception area to explain the problem. The answer from the front desk was, "This is not my fault!"; "This is not my responsibility." After my husband asked for the manager, he was told that the manager was in a meeting. There was no "I am sorry, Sir. We are working on it. I apologize for inconveniencing you." An hour later, I tried to use my Bulgarian language. The manager was around this time

I have no clue how I kept my composure.  Maybe, living in USA really changed me.... The internet was back on shortly, but my husband did not get any "sorry."

You may argue, that this is not a big deal. The big deal [to me] is the lack of regret and respect for the customer.

The sign you see to the left of the paragraph was put on my fridge upon my return. It reflected the predominant business attitude. 

Then, I took it down and replaced it with a beautiful picture of the Black Sea.  

One hotel will not put a stain on the restaurant and cleaning crew trying to earn a living there. Tourism provides the major employment in the area. These people did quietly and diligently their jobs. 

We Thank All of Them.

Blog Disclaimer: Some characters appearing in this blog are fictitious or composite. Any resemblance to real situations and real people are purely coincidental. The owner will not be liable for any errors or omissions nor for the availability of this information. The owner will not be liable for any losses, injuries, or damages from the display or use of this information.

 

I AM SORRY?

"I AM SORRY?"

For the those who want to be in the know, as my daughter, Toni Ti would say, it is time to give some funny cultural examples. One of them is the "I am sorry!"

I have been using this picture by Frank Bryan several times now. It does not show a simple misunderstanding between a woman and a man. It shows a very important cultural difference. Nodding your head in Bulgaria stands for "NO", while shaking it for "YES." There is no need to explain how embarrassed one can find him/herself if this is not understood in advance. There are a couple of scenarios which you already think about, don't you? Coming to America one has to practice this nodding and shaking a lot. One of the first thing I said as a baby was "YES" and "NO." I was not the "aww" baby. I always had my "yes" and "no." How can I get rid of this habit overnight? 

The best example I have for "I am sorry!"  is this one: It happened while I was at the graduate school in USA. I was pleasant and chatty - trying to learn about the new place I was living at as much as possible. I approached one guy from the program. We started a simple conversation about our families, kids. He told me he was already working. I had a serious problem understanding what he was talking about. But one sentence really shocked me. I thought he said he worked for the Federal Bureau of Presents (FBP). 

I knew there is no Federal Santa, but it sounded soo nice. I repeated, "I am sorry? Where did you say you work?" He gave me the same answer. I did not ask more questions, but the mere illusion of America having a Federal Bureau of Presents was exhilarating. 

I researched at home what FBP stood for. Umm, it was not presents, it was prisons. Close enough. 

I continue to have an issue with this "I am sorry". It is one of my language diseases. The issue is that I know when to use "I am sorry"; it just does not feel right. I can use it when I do not hear what the other person is saying, or I do not recognize the word being used. Very often, the word I do not recognize, rhymes with the word being used. Word recognition is a bummer. If I was a rap song writer, that would have been phenomenal.

This language problem is common. It deserves special attention. Here is the story to illustrate it. My husband and I will always remember a visit to a National park in Colorado. We were having lunch at a nice restaurant with his brother. The waitress came and asked [what sounded to me] as "Super salad for the lady?" It was not even the time of "Seinfeld," when Elaine would ask for a "big salad." Looked like everyone was waiting for my answer. Without any hesitation my answer was, "Oh, no, I'll just have a regular salad!" "Soup or salad?" - this was what the girl was asking. Until today - 20 years later, I will ask for a regular salad. The "regular salad" is "the house salad" today.

The restaurants in America are a real pain in the butt as far as giving you enough time to dine, not to eat. Do not register with this pencil #2 that the people on table #25 just came in. The table will be available not earlier than 2.5 hours after their arrival time. This is what all restaurants in the local area have to be aware of, when they see the Colemans coming.

My picture with the supersalad

There is also a mandatory expression to be used at restaurants when you stop eating for a second. "Are you still working, ma'm?" They just can't wait to take your plate away. You have to wiggle with your fork, make some childish movements in your plate to keep it in front of you. Otherwise, it is gone.

The word "working" is in fact what bothers me the most. One day, being frustrated to the utmost, I said with subtle confidence, "I am not working, I am dining." My American spouse accepted this philosophy very fast. Now, he goes first, "No, no, I am not working. I am drinking ma bourbon."

The next difficult part of a restaurant etiquette is taking the leftovers home. The "doggy bag" is a must. If you don't get a bag/box, it may be perceived as if you did not like the food. On the other hand, if you forget the box in your car, your car will never forget the sweet and sour chicken you put there that night.

"I am sorry" is used when you have done something, which the other party does not approve of, or you have not done something the other party will approve of. This is how I see it. The only meaningful "I am sorry" to me is when something "bad" has happened to someone. Loss of a family member, a child, a friend. ...Even then "I am sorry" will not do it. 

A big hug and silence will do so much more. ...

This is just my opinion. ...

CULTURE SHOCK? (part 3)

                     CULTURE SHOCK?  (part 3)

While writing about culture shock, I ran across people of different ages, with various international experiences. One of them was a guy, who had been on a study abroad program in Europe. He was telling me how much fun this semester was. He studied the local culture and language, traveled, tried new cuisine, had fun bar-hopping with the local students, even got picked up by a girl at a bar. Naturally he said, "yes", but what he thought was going to be a long night of intimacy, turned out to be a lesson in how to be a gentleman. The girl did not want to walk alone into the dance club. After an hour of dancing, he felt light-headed. The girl stayed at the club with her girlfriends, while he made it to his apartment very lonely. "I felt a little stupid that night." He said.

He proceeded talking to me about his family. He shared he was able to talk to them and see them on the internet more often than at the time he was in USA. "But after 3 months, I really wanted to go home! Nostalgia hit me. I am ready for a vacation to Europe any time; I can take a short work assignment, but moving to Europe - not permanently."

It is one thing to be a visitor, or a tourist, a totally different thing to immigrate, or be an expatriate. I hate this word! Anyway, this is just a blog. ...

The conversation with the young man made me think, "I must have really wanted the challenge to leave the old life behind and just show up across the Atlantic to try out a better life and better opportunities."

As time went by, we entered the Adjustment stage of the culture shock. Do all Bulgarian immigrants from those days adjust? It depends. There are so many socio- economic factors, which come into play. Even after so many years, I frown upon the immigrants, who try to swallow everything from the new culture in an attempt to blend with the local people. I guess cultural assimilation is the word I am looking for. Bulgarians have lived under Turkish rule for 500 years without being assimilated. How can immigration lead to this situation? How can you forget where you came from?

I will sneak in a comment on a controversial subject among the compatriots. Since I don't live in my country of origin, I don't follow its news and I am not a part of the every day pains and sorrows of the regular folks in Bulgaria. So, I have to exercise extreme caution commenting on what goes on in BG now (as long as there are no wars, open violation of human and civil rights, terrorism, and genocide). The media cannot be my source of information. I have to remember what my husband's father - a good husband and father of seven, a hard working farmer from Colorado - taught him many years ago: "Gary, consider the source." If anyone of my former friends talks against USA and the American people, I can easily say, "You do not live in USA, but I admire your interest in the country!" 

The majority of the Bulgarian immigrants follow their old native traditions, while absorbing the cultural values and traditions of the Americans. Based on the demographic and ethnic structure of the area they live, they may become not just bi-cultural, but multicultural. What more can one ask for? The more cultures you see, the bigger the world becomes for you. 
 
When you immigrate, food becomes an essential part of the bigger world you are in. Living in the most diverse country in the world, USA, you can eat whatever international cuisine you like -- the big American steaks (my husband's favorite), German sausage with sauerkraut, Chinese roast duck, Italian pizza, French beef bourguignon (my favourite), Korean kimchi (my daughter's favorite), Spanish tapas, Vietnamese noodles soup, Pakistan lamb kebab, Indian tofu dishes, and many more.

You can find Bulgarian food in the few Bulgarian stores around. The famous Bulgarian "rakia" drink (not for people who cannot drink) is not to be found easily. Just go with the whiskey and the bourbon. 

Image courtesy of creativedoxphoto from FreeDigitalPhotos.net

I am married to an American man. This is the best possible scenario to learn and see on a daily basis the differences and similarities between the Bulgarian and American cultures. There is humor and loud discussions on how things are "supposed to be done." How can you not laugh at someone, who has learned 14 Bulgarian words + 1 sentence for 14 years of marriage? How can he not laugh at his wife, who can throw money up in the air in a restaurant, because [to her] it is embarrassing to question what your portion of the bill is. If the other women cannot drink martinis, I can. I also like James Bond's type martinis. Do I have to pay more for my better taste?

Next time, I will give you some examples to make fun of myself. Believe me, when time comes to make fun of myself, no one can do it better.

Disclaimer: Any resemblance to real situations, real living or dead people is purely coincidental. All characters appearing in this blog are composite and fictitious.