In Gozo, visiting the seaside and experiencing the fresh face of Gozitan hospitality have really got me thinking. Many of you have experienced something similar: restaurants rarely close on Mondays or Tuesdays in Gozo; less staff on the floor; a server (waiter) most probably foreign, who might sound unconfident in their knowledge of the menu or - an unusual feeling - a sommelier who knows less about wine than you do. Checkback to the table whether the guest is ok is becoming rare and hugely missed and, though everyone is charming and enthusiastic, you'll muse, "What is this? Amateur hour?", and the answer, surprisingly, is "Yes".
As I write, unfortunately, service levels have gone down while prices have gone up and what is slowly dawning on us all is that this situation is unlikely to reverse in our lifetime. Ingredient prices, energy, rent, staff wages will never drop back. The job of serving food will not get any easier either - unless you count ordering on a screen and being served food in a bag by a robot - so we will never grow our own generation of skilled, decently paid career service staff. Except for, at the present, several family run catering outlets which may not survive another generation. Perhaps the best thing to do is get used to it.
It's common for Gozitans to come home from holidays in the big cities of the UK, France, Italy, Spain, Switzerland and Greece, where mature men and women have served them, not tolerating nonsense from customers but operating with blistering efficiency. Those few returning from America comment on the ruthless pragmatism of their wait staff in pursuit of gratuities and chuckle patronisingly at "Hi, I'm Bob. I'll be your server". They'll wonder at hard faced pros in diners and restaurants for whom this is a life's work. In Japan, there's a culture-wide notion of ´omotenashi´, (The core values of omotenashi are anticipation, selflessness, and sincerity; Giving from the heart and deep consideration in attention to detail is the 'omotenashi' truth) apparently impossible to translate properly but meaning to look after guests to the ultimate degree. This goes beyond the commercial imperative that "the customer is always right". Instead, this is a deeply held belief that no effort can be humble or menial if it results in the guest's comfort. It reverses our approach by making hospitality a virtue of the individual delivering it, and not about the expectation of the person being served.
It's often assumed that our history, thickly adorned with tradition, has given us Gozitans a lawful antipathy to service. It's broadly recognised that the Second World War levelled society and eventually independence from Britain left surviving Gozitans unwilling to return to lives of domestic servitude. Indeed, we have believed ourselves proudly "free" for much longer. The liberal notion of the Gozitan character, who, at the most fundamental level, is prepared to join the public service for security and adamant to "serve no man", is the resilient heart of our Gozitan self- image. But that's incredibly eroding fast. Local outlets have to resort to foreigners, frequently sacrificing our language and friendly character.
My experience last week made me feel a little hopeless - that, as an island, we might never find it within ourselves to serve well, to do hospitality. But this has annoyed me ever since, and I think I may not have delved deep enough in my search.
Not more than a handful of Gozo's most frequented restaurants can claim to have strong early memories of following in their parents' footsteps in the catering business. Still instinctively or influenced by foreign patrons, all described a kind of inspiring sixth sense: the feeling that they can't be at ease unless every single guest in the room is comfortable too. Mostly, though, they acknowledge that great "hospitality persons" were born, not made. That a bright young Gozitan, which lately is becoming more limited, with the right attitude, didn't need years of professional experience to be good.
It's an interesting idea that we might overrate "professionalism" a little. In Gozo, it's common for successful restaurants to be founded by individuals with no prior restaurant experience, but an innate gift for hospitality. Later, these may have widened their horizons with experience abroad. Country terrace, Ta' Carolina, Ic-Cima, Murella, Mojo, Oleander, all launched from a kind of happy amateurism into legendary restaurant careers. Even today, it's more likely that your chef will have staged a bit and won a television cooking show than gone through a formal training or apprenticeship. I remember when I was a teenager how many of the staff, particularly front of the house, were hotel employees, students funding their degrees, part- timers trying to build a career elsewhere, keen, innately hospitable individuals but essentially "amateurs" in a capital H Hospitality world.
Sure, these pioneer Gozitans have spent the past couple of decades getting thoroughly exposed to ever more professional service. But now I'm not sure it was an entirely good thing. I still remember the first time someone attempted to put my napkin in my lap for me - a profoundly un- Gozitan invasion of personal space - and not so bored as everyone else in the concept's delivery of allergy warning. Hospitality is a complex emotional, interpersonal exchange. Isn't "professionalism" the opposite of that? And, if a server has been pleasant to me, made my meal enjoyable, then hell, yes, I hope they go on to a different, no fewer fulfilling career before their knees give out, their arches fall and the light goes out of their eyes.
This may sound weird, but, for me, amateurism makes it easier to believe in the hospitality's authenticity offered. I believe we Gozitans do it better than others. What if amateurish, backed up by polite kindness, enthusiasm and an honest desire to please, is a perfectly good way of doing things? It might be hard to translate other languages or other cultures, but you could even call it Gozitan 'omotenashi'.
It is manifestly clear that we should encourage, convince young adventurous Gozitans to follow the hospitality route. This is diverse in the service provided by foreigners, though the service may be similar. Only Gozitans can deliver the hearty and welcoming touch of their birthplace.