What are the flippin’ tipping rules?

 On Friday evening, I found myself in a rather conflicting situation. I had met two girlfriends for a pizza before we were set to hear one of said friends read her new creative writing piece in an east London vintage (obvs) café.

The setting was a large, vibrant and, dare I say, hip warehouse pizzeria on Shoreditch high street. The atmosphere was suffocated with overly enthusiastic smiling waiters and chefs with the similar sort of grating energy you find amongst staff in Abercrombie and Fitch. I felt immediately, albeit reluctantly, suspicious. My meal was to be pizza, withOUT artichokes, as I specifically told our sweet Italian waiter and I asked whether I might swap the artichokes for something else, like olives. (Now, before you scorn me for being too fussy and say that I should just choose a pizza with only toppings that I like, I take your point. But, I never forget what a wise waiter in an American restaurant once told my parents, forever embarrassed by my alteration requests: “By telling us what you want, you are helping us to do a better job for you.” So there.) “Yes, of course”, he replied. “Will there be an extra charge?” I checked. “Yes, somewhere between £1- £3,” he smiled back. Forgive me for seeming stingy, but that seems a tad extortionate just to swap a pair of cheap pizza toppings. Forever on an intern’s wage (i.e. nothing), I had told myself I would spend no more than £10, but of course the cheapest pizza was £11, so I was already over budget. I couldn’t stop myself from remarking, “Oh, that seems a bit silly. Can’t I just swap them for free?” I don’t quite understand why these things have to be so difficult. “I can’t, it’s impossible; the till will add the extra automatically if I change the order,” he winced back. Impossible? Is that really what the world is coming to?

Now this really ticks me off. These corporate-driven, large, chain restaurants are so determined to squeeze every penny out of their customers, and have systems so rigid and efficient, that it becomes ‘impossible’ to change something as simple as artichokes for olives. In growing to the size they do, they lose all room for personal service and reasonable flexibility, and the result is baffled, miffed customers like me.

Upon seeing my dissatisfaction, the waiter said he would see if the chef might swap them for free. I felt mildly gratified with the small impact I might have had on the world of impersonal, inflexible, money-grabbing corporate restaurants.

A few glasses of hilariously flashy and enthusiastically waiter-poured water later, our three pizzas arrived. I looked down in bemusement to see both olives and artichokes on my pizza. Despite how much I.don’t.like.artichokes… bugger it, I thought, as I started to unearth all the hidden pieces of the slimy stuff. Luckily, my friend was keen to eat them instead. When our cheery waiter bounded over to ask if everything was okay, I couldn’t help but point out that my pizza had in fact come with artichokes. “Oh no!” he cried, “I forgot to say to take off the artichokes, sorry.” He was sweet, but at no point did he offer to change the pizza or make up for his error, as I might have done in his position.

When the bill arrived, my pizza was (thank goodness) priced at the original £11. I was less thrilled, however, to see the12.5% ‘service charge’ added to the bottom of the bill. Now I know that tipping is a grey area here in Britain, but I feel it’s about time we cleared that up. Here I faced a dilemma: my order was wrong, but the bill was demanding that I tip.

In America, service charge is not included on bills but everyone knows that it is extremely rude not to tip because servers depend upon this to make up a reasonable wage. The result can be falsely-friendly servers in constant search of a larger tip. In France, service charge is integrated into the original price of all food and drinks, tipping is not required and when people choose to tip, it is usually a modest amount. The result can be utterly miserable servers who couldn’t care less if you ate in their restaurant or not. Now, I’m not arguing that one is better than the other, but asking what are the rules in the UK?

For me, tipping should be something you do if you are particularly impressed with your service. Social pressure, however, means I generally try to tip 10% if I am at least content with the service. All restaurant owners are by law required to pay their staff at least the minimum wage and that is why the need and culture for tipping is less than in the US. In this way, some argue, tipping actually encourages the perpetuation of low wages. If the basic salary is not enough, then we need to raise the minimum wage. Tipping could then be what it is actually meant to be: a show of appreciation for really good service. The whole idea of tipping is surely that it comes from the customer, not something demanded of customers by businesses. Surely that way the establishment has more motivation to provide a great service and can measure customer satisfaction by the tips received.

In Friday night’s situation, I felt I could not tip. Firstly, because I could not really afford to, but more importantly, because my order had been wrong.

As we were getting up to leave, a manager-type in a suit swooped over to ask if there had been a problem with the service. Not only were they demanding that we pay a tip but they were now making us feel extremely awkward for not doing so. I explained that our waiter had been lovely, but that my order was wrong, and so I did not feel that giving a tip was appropriate. I added that including service charge on the bill arguably puts customers in difficult situations such as the present one. “It’s discretionary, it’s discretionary,” he replied defensively. Well, it may be discretionary, but my order was wrong.   What would they have expected if it had been correct? 30%?! The establishment adding a tip themselves feels unfair and pointless.  

I sometimes wonder whether my feelings towards tipping would be different if I was not on such a tight budget: if I had more money I would surely be willing to be more generous in these situations. I probably would, but actually the principle remains the same. A tip should come from the customer and not from the establishment. If establishments want to pay their service staff higher wages (and in nearly all cases they should), then they should increase their basic prices or cut wages at the top. We should not have this confusing situation where some restaurants add it and others do not, where no-one really knows whether a tip is expected or not, and where you are required to tip even if your order is wrong.  It makes things very difficult for people on little money who were not expecting to pay extra, and it makes redundant the idea that a tip is a show of appreciation for particularly good service. Let’s get rid of ‘discretionary’ and establish our tipping culture once and for all!

Do you manges tout?

I love good food. I wonder who doesn’t? I love trying all different types and enjoying long evenings over a delicious meal with friends. Indeed this is one of the reasons I love France so much. Many foreigners associate France with its high quality cuisine and most French people value their food. I often wonder how the French have managed to get food so right and how many Brits have got it so wrong.

I am lucky enough to have been brought up by a mother who believes in healthy, wholesome food. I therefore feel I have received a decent food and health education. When abroad, however, I am constantly reminded of the UK’s lack of a proper food culture and indeed our lack of education in this regard. And it’s true. It is difficult to answer the question “What do people eat in Britain?” since every family has their own way of doing things and there is no common way of going about cooking. Okay, there are a few traditional dishes: a typical English breakfast, shepherd’s pie, yorkshire pudding and a Sunday roast... But really there are very few in comparison to our continental counterparts. What is more, not only are we lacking in a respectable number of traditional dishes, but as a nation we are eating far too much of the wrong food. It recently became official that the UK is now the second most obese nation after the US. NHS data shows that a third of children in England are either overweight or obese by the time they leave first school. Clearly this is unacceptable on several counts, not least because it is going to cost the NHS billions of pounds. Obesity rates in France, on the other hand, are amongst the lowest in the OECD. Whereas one in four people in the UK is obese, only one in ten is obese in France. So why don’t we eat more like the French?

Let’s take a look at some characteristics of the French way of eating. One, they take their time over eating. The average time spent at the dinner table in France is over 2 hours per day. It is often a time for discussion with family, a time to relax and savour the good food on the table. Two, most French people cook their meals from scratch. The concept of a ‘ready meal’ is almost a dirty word in France. Most French people are aware that the best tasting food comes from fresh, natural and, where possible, local ingredients. Three, restaurant menus contain a small range of dishes and they change regularly. Rather than having a huge menu with ingredients from all seasons coming from far and wide, French chefs create a daily or weekly menu that takes into account which vegetables, meat or fish are in season and are best that morning at the market. Four, independent, specialist shops and restaurants are valued and protected as part of French culture. Although giant supermarket chains and fast food outlets are most definitely present in France, they do not outnumber the slow food cafes and restaurants that counteract this potentially potent movement. Five, French meals consist of smaller portions, but more courses. The French feel the need for balance and moderation, where each meal provides protein, vegetables and a small amount of carbohydrate. Six, school dinners are of a much higher quality than those in the UK. School canteens also endorse balance and moderation and offer French children at least three courses of quality nourishment. Children and staff sit down together and eat a proper meal. Seven, you do not often see French people snacking in between their meals. If you walk down a busy street in Britain, you will always see people munching on crisps, chocolate bars, cereal bars... You do not see this in France. It is actually difficult to buy snack foods there. Newsagents and service stations are not bursting with sugary snacks full of empty calories. Instead, people eat three decent meals a day and their health is much better for it.

Here I have highlighted seven points where the French differ from and better the British, and I’m sure I could name more.

Yes, some of the characteristics I have cited come down to culture, and yes, the French are lucky to have a Mediterranean climate that provides them with wonderful-tasting vegetables, fruit and cheese. But surely that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t learn from their healthier food choices and habits? There are clear and simple steps that we, the people, and the government could take to significantly boost the anti-obesity movement. Although people are arguably more aware of the need to partake in regular exercise than they were a decade ago, this must not overshadow the fact that what we put into our bodies is the most important factor. Allowing children to eat sugary, fatty, processed foods on a daily basis is irresponsible at best and criminal at worst. And yet our government will not act, most likely because of pressure from the junk food industry and because of economic concerns. I distinctly remember at the start of the current coalition government’s power, the health minister received a report from a senior NHS doctor outlining a set of measures that should be taken to counteract the obesity movement, such as removing sweets and chocolate from supermarket tills, banning fast food outlets near schools and improving catering in hospitals. The minister concluded that such measures should not be introduced because it would be “bad for business.” Once again we come back to the sad fact that politicians make choices more often based on money and economics than on people’s health and quality of life.

Legislative measures on food production have worked in other countries and they could work in ours, along with a powerful health campaign. In France all marketing of foods high in fat, sugar and salt is banned unless they are taxed and marketed with a health warning. In French schools food and drink is controlled and children are given taste lessons. In France ready meals lack the added sugars, preservatives and additives that have existed in ours for years. France is managing to maintain standards despite the fast food rush and the result is a healthier country with a smaller health bill. Come on Britain, it’s time to learn from our friends across the Channel.

To protest or not to protest: it’s time for outrage

We all know that the French like to protest. Within my first six weeks in France I had come across at least five such protestations: a noisy and heated one against job cuts within the ‘Credit Immobilier de France’, a silent, motionless but very powerful stand against the methods involved in making fois gras, a large, compelling and booming manifestation by the “ultras” football fans, a peaceful protest by tram workers to highlight their poor working conditions, and one by local business leaders against tax rises. I think it is fair to say that the French are generally more engaged in their society than the English. From where I stand, it seems they have more opinions, are more aware of politics and its meanings, and generally have a stronger desire to have a real say in their future. In France protesting is a perfectly normal activity: it’s odd if a municipality goes a week without some form of noisy show of unity against a potentially threatening law. In the UK protests are rare, extreme, a last resort. If you go out marching and shouting in the street you could well be considered a bit of a hippy, a radical, a weirdo. Whilst protests in the UK do happen, and perhaps increasingly so in the current climate, it is often just small pockets of society, sporadic and irregular displays of discontent that rarely seem to cause the politicians to stop and listen. Yesterday there was a student protest in London against rising tuition fees and lack of employment for young people - something I imagine most young people feel quite strongly about. How many students turned up? An estimated 3-4000. That’s not even 1% of the UK’s Higher Education population. Needless to say, that number of people is not going to have a significant impact.

Before I go any further I think it is important to address whether protesting can actually work. Does protesting in France achieve anything? I hear you wondering. Well, apparently it does. The mere fact that protests continue to happen on a very frequent basis suggests that they do work. I have also been reliably informed that local and national French authorities do often make compromises when a community comes together and makes its voice heard. Protests are often backed up by meetings, petitions and real people pressure. People organise themselves and they make an impact. When I taught as an English assistant in a French middle school two years ago, I experienced this in action. The Government was threatening to make cuts that would have a seriously detrimental impact on pupils and teachers in this ‘priority zone’ school. So the teachers organised a meeting, they held a strike, and they forced the authorities to listen to them and to meet them halfway.

Now, before you think I am all for all types of protesting, I am not. I think strikes that cause innocent people huge problems, the cancellation of holidays, or the inability to get home in time for Christmas are far from ideal or fair. I also, like many, think violence and extremism are never the answer. I do, however, think that engaging in society and being prepared to publicly stand up for your rights is a positive and important aspect of democracy, one which does not manifest itself enough in Britain. When it comes down to it, too many people are apathetic in Britain.

So, if protesting works in France, why doesn’t it work in Britain? Or why do citizens so infrequently participate? Why are we so apathetic compared to our French neighbours? First we must remember that the French have a history of rising up, coming together and fighting for better: the 1789 Revolution, the Second World War, May 1968. We of course are yet to have our national social revolution (there’s time yet…). The French Revolution was when rights replaced privileges and when participatory politics was installed in the French mentality. History therefore plays a strong part. I think, however, that this difference goes deeper still, especially when considering modern day France. According to my outspoken (and lovely) landlady, the French have been spoilt by their comprehensive social system, and so they always expect too much. Perhaps... but surely a country that looks after all its citizens as well as France does should be commended for that, and long live the protesters who wish to maintain that system. Could the modern day protesting French nature have something to do with their ‘social’ political system? The system which aims to take care of everybody, and therefore engages everybody more? The system which rejects obscene levels of wealth next to unacceptable poverty? Let’s remember the slogan that was born out of the French Revolution of 1789, and that is now written on the exterior walls of every school, town hall and community centre in France: “liberté, égalité, fraternité”. This social system can be put in opposition to the British ‘liberal’ system, which (in a somewhat exaggerated form) lets market forces determine the economy and lets individuals compete for a better share in the country’s wealth. The free market, not quality of life and equality for all, is the driving force behind Britain today. I would argue that people have become apathetic largely because the free market has left them without sufficient control over their destiny. People feel that they are helpless in the face of the inevitability of the dominance of big businesses such as Tesco. I would also argue that people have been numbed by the banality and greed of commercialisation and material wealth. Among many people in the UK, and many young people in particular, it feels like the desire for material goods has stamped out any awareness or consideration for the good of the community, for the good of those less well off, for a say in the way things are done in society. There is a sense of individualism, selfishness and most worrying of all, of disengagement with society. This week David Cameron said: “the pursuit of economic growth should have precedence over all other considerations.” He also recently made it clear to all French millionaires that they are welcome in England, where they won’t be taxed as much as they are in the all-too reasonable French system. He has basically sent out the message that making money is the most important thing in life, that people should be allowed to make as much money as possible, and that this is harmfuless activity. He is saying that material wealth is more important than everything else, be it quality of life, care for the environment, human rights, happiness, equality... I find this so difficult to accept not simply because his system allows the perpetuation of the growing gap between the rich and the poor, but because it has been proven time and time over that being rich does not make you any happier. Letting people get unnecessarily and harmfully wealthy is therefore pointless. As my wise French friend says, and as I imagine most people might agree: “The world is not a market, but a place to have a quality of life”.

Sadly enough, it would seem that as capitalism and materialism tightens its grasp on France, young people, as in the UK, risk becoming increasingly disengaged with politics and unlikely to vote. Stéphane Hessel, (a 96 year old French diplomat, writer, concentration camp survivor, former Resistance fighter and contributor to the Universal Declaration of Human Rights of 1948) published a very short book in 2010 called “Indignez-vous!” or “Time for outrage!” as it was translated into English, with a view to reversing this dangerous trend. The basis of the book is an appeal to young people to wake up and get angry at the injustices in society. He covers a brief history of French uprisings and boldly warns the French youth against becoming apathetic. “Carry on the relay!” he says. “Society must not be brainwashed or disengage itself in the face of the current financial markets’ international dictatorship, which is threatening peace and democracy”. My favourite quote is: “L’indifférence : la pire des attitudes”. Indifference: the worst kind of attitude. With the dangerous unravelling of free market realities, I am inclined to agree with him.

The basis of the French state’s expenditure is health, education and child care. Its motto is liberty, equality, brotherhood. When decision-makers threaten to compromise these promises, the French have had a tendency to rise up and stop them from doing so. Tant mieux I say. And long may it continue.

                                                 Grumpy Young Lady