The Local Custom

I'm in Nuremberg right now, working at the annual toy fair. Eighty thousand people, and we all either make games, sell games to others, and/or write about games. It's a hard life, but I manage.

We had the opportunity to frequent a local chain in town, Landbierparadies. The beer was wonderful (I recommend the Meister), the food was basic, hearty and delicious, and their are many more fränkische delights on the menu to try next time.

Wait a minute. I thought I was in Bavaria. Why are these "fränkische" items?

Fränkische Schweiz (Franconian Switzerland) may be part of North Bavaria, but as my local guide pointed out, this is a region with its own rich history, and a fiercely independent personality. Calling the food or the beer Bavarian would have, at best, gained me a bit of stony silence.

I have blundered my way through some awkward cultural faux pas as only us loud Americans can, but I'd like to believe that when I am informed of a custom, I can respect it and try to understand it in context. Hence, kruglegen.

Kruglegen is another manifestation of the practicality the inhabitants of the region are known for. The mugs that are used for serving beer are, of course, opaque. Sure, the server could come over, ask you if you are done or need another, but that's not very efficient, is it? Instead, you simply tip your mug over onto its side - kruglegen - and a refill appears quickly.

Just like ordering a pils in Köln (hint: DON'T), regions have customs that range from practical to emotional to the simply expected. Sitting in the back room of Landbierparadies, watching the locals play schafkopf at long wooden tables, there was some comfort in knowing that, although I would be instantly recognizable as a visitor the moment I opened my mouth, it's pleasant to know that at least I know how to get another beer with a smile from the waitress.