Food Fight

I was taught to wrestle over the bill at restaurants, for better or worse.

By Saffina Jinnah

Growing up, eating out was always special. It was mostly reserved as a treat for birthdays, the odd anniversary or religious holiday, and of course, out-of-town visitors. I always looked forward to visiting

our favourite restaurants. We had our go to’s in Vancouver, local staples which have since closed, but just the memory of the aromas would have me salivating: fragrant dai ching chicken from Royal Fortune, sticky ginger beef from Snow Garden, and aromatic goat curry from Samosa Garden.

And as exciting as this was, the shenanigans that would ensue as the meal came to an end were even more thrilling. That thin, shiny, innocuous piece of paper would land in the middle. We’d all know it was coming. But who was going to grab it first? You would never really know who was going to outsmart who. Commotion would erupt. Chairs would screech. Arms would fly up. Credit cards everywhere. In these situations, while you haphazardly throw your body across the table, you must also simultaneously engage in a good natured, lighthearted, and prescripted verbal exchange of sorts. “I invited you!” “You are in my city!” “When you are older!” “I won’t speak to you!” “Next time!” A blatant lie. But hey, whatever you can think of in the moment. At times, it even turns physical. It’s true. I’ve seen a bill end up ripped in half from the sheer tug-o-war of it all.

Why does this happen, one might wonder? Why not simply share the cost? Or take turns? I grew up with the understanding that warmth, generosity, and hospitality are core values and can be expressed through food. Paying for a meal is a pleasure. It communicates gratitude and respect. Offering food and/or feeding someone is the ultimate expression of love, care, and kinship, whether that be through cooking or paying for a meal. While it may be true that other people also fight for the bill, South Asian culture practically demands it.

Paying the tab at a restaurant is about much more than money. It is not about superiority. It is not to gloat. It symbolizes how much you value your relationship with that person, and it’s a way to honour that relationship. Though I am not Hindu, I am familiar with the Sanskrit phrase, Atithi Devo Bhava which translates to “The Guest is God.” This phrase originated from the Taittriya Upanishads of the Yajur Veda, which is of of the four Vedas of Hinduism. And though South Asians are from many regions rich in different histories, cultures, and religions, we’ve all inherited this ancient custom. It has survived generations, immigration, and modernity. This is why it continues today in Canada. It is essentially a code of conduct, and it is what has made Indian hospitality renowned for its genuine desire to place the guest first.

We have all been guests. If I walk into any of my relative’s houses, chai is immediately shoved in my face. There is always something on hand to offer. And they take as much joy in watching me devour their offering as they do in serving it. Furthermore, you often leave with containers of food! The ‘great underground food economy,’ a (white) friend once called it. Each recipient amassing Tupperware until the next exchange. Indian hospitality is like no other. Likewise, when abroad, what I remember most is never the hotel or amenities or souvenirs, but the people and their hospitality. And no sense of hospitality has struck me as that of the people of India, where I saw Atithi Devo Bhava in its purest form. Through cities, villages, and slums, you will be offered a cup of chai and most definitely something to eat. Status is irrelevant; all have the urge to care for others. And while it may be easy for us to treat those we know and love to a meal, can we say the same for a stranger? In India, they truly welcomed this wandering tourist.

Returning back home, to Canada, this concept stuck with me even more. I thought back to my childhood and have fond memories of being used as a pawn in this game – the secret weapon. Surely, a child is not going to pay for the bill, right? I would unsuspiciously approach the register or server, mother’s credit card in hand, and the guest’s fate was sealed. Similarly, we have been duped many times. I have asked for the bill and been told it has been paid. Guests have handed over their credit card well before we even sat down. Who will pay the bill is always quite unpredictable. Eventually, someone proudly does it. But I started thinking, who really won: the person who paid for everyone, or the folks who were treated? Even though this was always a fun tradition growing up, particularly when I was involved in the trickery, I wondered how my single mom afforded to keep up with this perpetual contest. How did any of the regular contenders afford this? Maybe there’s something missing from this tradition, kind and generous though it is. Should we consider different people’s income, expenses, and expectations?

Today, I have my own income and am happy to engage in this custom with friends and family, to an extent. I truly want to seize the opportunity to treat them. However, as the cost-of-living increases around the world, I often wonder when our tradition may change. More and more of us are living paycheque to paycheque and opting to eat out less and less. The annual HungerCount report released by Food Banks Canada found that nearly two million people, including more employed people than ever, accessed food banks in March, 2023. This is a 32 percent increase from the same month in 2022, and more than 78 percent higher than in March 2019. The cost of food has risen dramatically, admist a barrage of accusations and scandals in recent years. Loblaw, Sobeys, and Metro comprise more than half of all food retail sales in Canada, according to a report conducted by Canadian Grocer, and CEOs were summoned to testify before a parliamentary hearing in Ottawa in the Spring of 2023. While each denied accusations of profiteering, large chains continue to record significant profits. Many have grown incredibly distrustful of the food market and grocery chains. Large chains continue to record significant profits, not to mention the Canadian bread price-fixing scandal of 2017. Whatever the cause – a corrupt system, a global pandemic, climate change, labour shortages, low minimum wages, global conflicts, inflation –the cost is always passed onto the consumer. Given all of this, as well as the struggle to recover in a post-lockdown world, it is no wonder restaurants must increase their prices, and thus the cost is again passed on to the consumer, making it tougher for us to carry out our deeply entrenched plans to bully our loved ones into letting us pay for their mogo and falooda.

In Canada, this tradition of fighting for the bill is often viewed as a tad bizarre by my non-Indian friends. And perhaps this is for the best. I take joy in this quirky nuance, and it has become a regular part of our social etiquette. But we are living in increasingly hard times. These practices may need to retire, just like Canada’s grocery CEOs.