The young man at the beer garden in Munich has his hands full. In one, he holds a liter-size stoneware mug, foam spilling untidily over its rim; with the other, he's carefully transferring a small, not entirely compliant child from a stroller to a long wooden bench.
It's just after 5 p.m., and this beer garden, Paulaner Am Nockherberg, is filling up. Chestnut trees cast shade over dozens of long, slim tables. Six middle-aged friends settle in a sun-dappled spot; a pensioner in a fedora and sports jacket browses the local newspaper, a glass of pale lager close at hand; and a couple, fresh from a jog, clutch plastic trays as they wait at the food hatch, behind a man with a huge pretzel hanging from one wrist.