Things I Learned About Fast-Food Etiquette After Moving to Germany

The first time I ordered at a McDonald’s in Berlin I did it in English and then froze up halfway through and switched to very bad German, because I suddenly felt that I was being rude. The person behind the counter was perfectly fine either way. That was embarrassment Number 1. There were others.

Fast food in Germany is quieter than it is in the US or the UK. This is the first thing you notice if you’ve spent time in either. At a McDonald’s in Manchester at 11pm on a Friday you can barely hear the person next to you. At a McDonald’s in Berlin at the same time, people are eating their food and scrolling their phones, and the loudest sound is the fry oil. I used to think this was because Germans are reserved, which is the lazy stereotype. It’s not that. It’s that fast food in Germany is mostly a functional experience — you go, you eat, you leave — and the social bit of it that exists in the UK (meeting your mates after the pub) or the US (post-game, post-movie, post-anything) isn’t really the point. If you want that, you go to a Kneipe or a späti.

Trays are a thing. You carry your tray to a table, you eat, you carry your tray back and you sort your trash into the correct bins. There are usually three or four bins: paper, plastic, leftover food, and sometimes a fourth for liquids. If you don’t sort, you will get a look. You might get a lecture. A lady once corrected me in front of a queue of people at Burger King at Alexanderplatz, holding up my cup and saying, out loud, Das ist nicht Papier. It was not, in fact, paper. I’ve been militant about cup disposal ever since.

Tipping is not expected but is appreciated in a different way than in the US. You don’t tip on a fast-food meal. You might round up at a bakery or a döner place — rounding a 4.80 to 5 is normal. Actual service tipping at restaurants is handled by telling the person siebzehn when the bill is 15.60, which they will write in your copy. You do not leave coins on the table. That’s for tourists and it’s always too much or too little.

Sauce is not free. You have to ask for it, and sometimes you pay for it. The first time a cashier said Soße extra, 50 Cent I thought I was being scammed. I was not. Ketchup costs money here. Mayonnaise costs money here. Curry sauce for your fries is an additional line item. Make peace with this or accept dry chips.

Coffee at a McDonald’s is fine. Coffee at any independent bakery is miles better and almost the same price. If you want a coffee on your way somewhere, skip the chain, find a bakery, order an Americano. You will spend 2.50 and you will thank me.

You keep receipts. This is partly for your own records and partly because you sometimes need to show them on the way out. Not always. Not everywhere. But often enough that you should get in the habit.

None of this is bad, exactly. It’s just different, and it took me a year and a half to stop feeling like a tourist. The moment I realized I’d fully adapted was when I tutted — out loud — at a group of tourists laughing too loud at a McDonald’s at 10pm, and then caught myself doing it. That’s when I knew. It was too late.