The capital with the eye of an expat
Written by Mary Murphy
Sometime in the last few weeks in Budapest, a light bulb went off. My social media feed was filled with near-simultaneous realisations that something is rotten in the restaurant business.
Anikó Woods summarised it all rather neatly in her blog post Card Machine Tipping in Hungary: When Should You Say No?
I saw a tip jar in a corner shop recently and wondered what I was tipping? Likewise in coffee shops. Where is the service?
But the restaurants, they’ve taken it a step further.
Like many others, our new favourite sushi restaurant adds a 15% service charge to the bill and then, when the card reader is produced, prompts for an additional 10%+, in effect asking for a tip on the tip. When I asked our server if they get the 15%, they said no. They only get whatever is given on the card reader or left in cash.
What then, I wondered, is the 15% for?
When I invoice someone for my services, I include the cost of everything. There are no additional extras. And I assumed that restaurants would do likewise. But it seems like I’m wrong.
It annoys me no end because the people losing out are those waiting the tables, delivering the food, providing the service.
I’m going back to paying cash and tipping 10% of the bill BEFORE the 15% is added, and even then, only if the server assures me that they get the tip and didn’t simply plonk the plate on my table.
That said, my days of eating out are numbered.
For the past few years, we’ve had a favourite breakfast place on the Körút near Corvin. It was a popular spot that served gluten-free and vegan options with plant-based milk. You’d think that by now these would be more commonplace in Budapest, but sadly no.
It was a little expensive for a breakfast/brunch when you added the supplements for the gluten-free bagel and the oat milk, but the service was decent, the food was fresh, and the ambience was good.
Then, it shut down. Suddenly. Only to reopen with a new name and the same staff a week or so later.
Now, though, there were no gluten-free or vegan options. The coffee came in paper cups, the food on paper plates, and there was no service. You had to pick up your order yourself.
The gas thing was that it was even more expensive. Fewer choices. Paper plates. No service. And yet higher prices?
That didn’t add up.
Needless to say, it didn’t last long.
And what a shame. A once-thriving restaurant with queues out the door has gone. I assume the owners cashed out when the going was good and whoever bought it got a tad greedy.
Back in the day, I’d eat out three or four or even more times a week. A breakfast meeting, a couple of lunches, and at least one dinner each week. That gradually dwindled to where I’m at now. The very occasional breakfast because I’m still looking for a new place (seriously, how hard is it to keep a bag of gluten-free bread/bagels in your freezer for non-coeliac gluten-sensitive customers and a carton of oat milk in your fridge), the occasional lunch, and ever more rarely, an evening meal.
I’m like a kid in a sweet shop. I’ve decided that instead of regularly spending my pennies on one chocolate bar, I’m saving them until I have enough to buy a box of chocolates.
But even then, I can’t be sure the box of chocolates will be worth it.
So many of the mid-to-upper-range restaurants in Budapest are well able to charge but less able to deliver. I’ve been disappointed more often than I’d like, to the point that I have to seriously think about where to eat out for that special occasion.
Thankfully, a friend of ours is in the know and pointed us towards Goli on Arany Janós utca. Self-described as a ‘a Michelin-recognized farm-to-table restaurant in Budapest where fire, flavor, and community come together’, it seemed worth checking out. I popped in one day for lunch. The food looked amazing. I was salivating. But there was little on the menu I could eat. Not just because of the gluten thing but because of the long list of other things best avoided: tomatoes, cheese, dairy, beef, pork, vinegar, fruit, root veg, and it goes on. I had a lovely chat with one of the servers who took me through the daily menu before suggesting I might be better off coming back for dinner when the à la carte menu would kick in.
He was a lovely lad who knew his food and wanted to be sure I got the experience I was looking for. He made me want to go back.
A couple of weeks later, we did go back. We were lucky to get a last-minute reservation for a 6 pm seating at the counter. If I had to magic up my dream restaurant experience, this would have been it. The staff, to a person, were personable and chatty. They were happy to answer a plethora of questions. They oozed enjoyment. We swapped snippets of our life stories. Had the banter. Ate our fill from the menu as we watched other orders being prepared. So much to choose from, with one dish tastier than the next. It’s rare that I have such choice.
I loved every minute. The whole place is so friendly, so inviting, so warm. And it’s somewhere I’d happily go eat on my own.
Does it bother me that I don’t get out as much as I used to? It doesn’t. Not really. Not now, when I know that there’s another visit to Goli in my near future.
Mary Murphy helps thought leaders find, shape, and articulate their ideas. Read more at www.irjjol.com | www.unpackingmybottomdrawer.com | www.anyexcusetotravel.com | www.dyingtogetin.com