Shop hours in Europe are abbreviated by American standards. Workers have the state-given rights to rest on Sundays, evenings, and dozens of holidays. Of course, this clashes with the consumer’s demands for basic foodstuffs. The answer? Automats.
We’ve been noticing automats across Europe and how they seem to meet some fundamental cultural need. In Belgium one sleepy Sunday morning, an automat was busy dispensing fresh bread to the villagers. Slide in a couple euro coins and out came sustenance for breakfast.
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In Amsterdam, a little snack shop off a busy street had a wall of tiny windows that contained an assortment of fried snacks like croquettes, small hamburgers, and frites. The snacks were being replaced by a worker frying in the back of the shop, but the automat had replaced the step of ordering. What you saw in the little window, was what you got. (In Amsterdam, they further this concept to entirely other areas of needs gratification).
Automats are like the snack machine in the company lunchroom, except the food tends to be fresh and/or heated and in some cases can be counted as full meals. They are the original fast food of Europe, although their popularity seems to be dwindling. There are still functioning remnants in old towns like Lviv, Ukraine, which sports a Soviet-era soda machine painted a battleship gray. One glass is shared by all customers, who toss in a few coins and fill it up to drink on the spot. When finished, the communal glass is turned over and a jet of water squirts up to sort of clean it.
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My personal favorite was a pasta automat in Pisa, Italy. A multi course meal could be had within minutes. We could imagine the appeal. It’s maybe not the best of food, but you don’t have to go home to your Italian mama.
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The Pragmatic Epicurean 