After more than a year of silence, I’m going to let you in on Rome’s best-kept gelato secret: Rome’s best gelato isn’t at Grom, at San Crispino, or even at Ciampini (although that’s still my favorite on-the-beaten-track gelateria, for when you just don’t have time to make a voyage out to, say, Vice).
Instead, Rome’s best gelateria is a little place in the centro storico’s business district, a short walk from Repubblica.
Its name? I Caruso.
(Update, Dec. 2013: Actually, not any more. I Caruso is still excellent. But just around the corner is what I think is the new best spot for gelato in Rome…).
If you haven’t heard of I Caruso, you’re not the only one. So far, it’s escaped notice even by Rome’s myriad foodies and gelato lovers, never mind guidebooks. In fact, it didn’t even make it onto any of the recent lists I’ve seen of Rome’s best gelato shops (including these otherwise-great round-ups by Tavole Romane, Katie Parla, and NileGuide).
That said, if I Caruso is a local secret, it’s one of the most popular local secrets I know. Every time I go, the place is crowded with Italians. Men in suits fresh from their work at one of the nearby banks, families, well-heeled women — they’re all here. And with reason.
About a year and a half old, I Caruso is truly artigianale; not only is everything made on-site with fresh ingredients, but you can watch them make the gelato through the glass. The panna, in either normal or zabaglione flavors, is the best I’ve had in Rome. It’s whipped fresh right there.
And the gelato itself? It’s out of this world. The extra-dark chocolate is the creamiest, richest I’ve ever had. Balanced off with a fragola that tastes like a just-picked strawberry, bursting-with-flavor melon, or with I Caruso’s famous pistacchio, it’s the perfect cup. Other options, which change seasonally, include mandarin orange, almond, and fior di panna.
Meanwhile, the servers are friendly, the place is super-clean, and the prices (€2.50 for a small, €3 medium, €3.50 large) aren’t bad. You can also get gelato by the kilo here… a pricey option, but I can’t imagine a better way to be a hit at a party. (Below, where the magic happens).
Another bonus? The location. A 10-minute walk from the Repubblica metro stop, it’s much more convenient than many of the other artisanal gelaterias in Rome. I Caruso is also right around the corner from Piazza Sallustio, so if you don’t want to take advantage of one of the benches on the street, you can wander over and enjoy your gelato while checking out some great ancient ruins: the remnants of the villa built by the Roman historian Sallust in the first century B.C.
In fact, I’ll be honest: I Caruso is so good that, for a long time, I didn’t want to be the one to “out” this place. After all, as we all know, once an establishment in Rome gets popular, it starts to go downhill. Plus, my original source had begged me to keep the place a secret.
But out of devotion to my readers, and commitment to helping those on their honorable search for Rome’s top-quality gelato, I decided it was time.
So there you are. Rome’s best gelato. Just in time for summer.
Want more local secrets on Rome’s best food, sights, and more? Check out The Revealed Rome Handbook: Tips and Tricks for Exploring the Eternal City, now available for purchase on Amazon, below, or through my site here!
Sweet relief — in the form of homemade, artisanal gelato — has just come that much closer for those sightseeing in the Colosseum area. Right across from the entrance to the Roman forum, on Via Cavour, is “Flor,” Rome’s newest gelateria.
Flor just opened in the last month, and I’ve already taken (several) tastings. The good news: It’s definitely good gelato. And it’s made fresh on-site, always a absolute must huge plus. It’s also a welcome addition to an area that previously, Sicilian pastry and ice cream shop Ciuri Ciuri aside, didn’t have very many gelato options at all, never mind artisanal ones.
That said, it’s not the best gelato I’ve ever tasted. Some of the flavors don’t have as much “kick” as I’d like, particularly the fruity ones (is pear really that hard to turn into gelato? Because time after time, I find gelaterias failing to deliver on their pear flavors). But others are definitely worth trying. My two favorites: the variegato all’amarena, a mix of creamy vanilla and cherry, and the fondente, a super-rich dark chocolate.
Even if it’s not Rome’s best gelateria, Flor is still pretty darn good. Oh, and they have 3-euro milkshakes, too. You can bet I’m going back soon to try one.
Flor. Located at the bottom of Via Cavour, just above where it meets Via dei Fori Imperiali, on the left. I’ll go back soon for the proper address, but if you head up Via Cavour from the Roman forum entrance, you can’t miss it.
Romans often say that the beaches near Rome just aren’t that nice. Maybe it’s the New Englander in me, but after visiting Santa Marinella, I beg to differ.
The beach at Santa Marinella, a seaside comune just outside the city, has a couple of things going for it. First off, it’s free. Although that might sound odd if you haven’t sunbathed in Italy before, most other beaches cost you. Stretches of sand are covered in cabanas and chairs, the use of which costs some €10 to €15 for the day — and no, you can’t just park yourself on a towel nearby the chairs and hope nobody will notice. (Che brutta figura!).
Secondly, Santa Marinella’s beach is convenient. Really convenient. You don’t need a car to get there, or to take a train and then a bus, like you do to get to the (admittedly prettier) beach of Sperlonga. Instead, you just hop on the train in Rome from Termini, Ostiense, Trastevere, or San Pietro; 45 minutes and €3.60 land you in Santa Marinella. From there, you can follow the crowds on the 5-minute walk to the beach.
All that could mean that Santa Marinella, like other city beaches, would be grungy. And it may have been, once. But now, the beach is all soft sand and clear Mediterranean water. And, aside from the odd water bottle left behind after the hordes had departed last Sunday evening, it seemed pretty clean to me.
Just keep in mind that, since the beach is so convenient to Rome, lots of locals go here. So if secluded sunbathing is what you’re after, forget about it, at least on the weekend. And bring your cutest suit — if you live in Rome, it’s all but inevitable that you’ll run into someone you know.
If you’re making a day of it, don’t miss lunch at one of Santa Marinella’s best seafood restaurants: L’Acqua Marina (above). A 10-minute walk from the beach at Piazza Trieste 8, the restaurant is elegant and lovely, the kind of place you could see Ingrid Bergman, who bought a house in town, going for lunch. It’s got plenty of indoor and outdoor seating. Sit on the patio for the view over the blue, blue Mediterranean.
While one of the seemingly-pricier eateries in town, costing about 50 euros for lunch for two (including a half-bottle of wine, the shared seafood antipasto, two primi of pasta, and water), it was worth it. And definitely cheaper than a seafood place of the same quality would be back in Rome.
Also, it was just darn good.
Santa Marinella: Weekend crowds, yes… but also seafood, sun, and sand. What more could you want within 45 minutes of Rome?
Want more local secrets on Rome’s best food, sights, and more? Check out The Revealed Rome Handbook: Tips and Tricks for Exploring the Eternal City, now available for purchase on Amazon, below, or through my site here!
Forget losing 5 pounds or flossing. Well, you can do those too. But if you're already looking forward to taking a trip to Italy sometime in the New Year, there are some other resolutions to consider making.
Three New Year's resolutions for before you go:
1. Get in good walking shape. I'm constantly surprised by the constant surprise of travelers who, coming to Rome, don't expect to walk very much. For those of us who only log steps from home to car, car to office, there's much more required of your feet — and heart — in Rome than home.
But that's not a bad thing. Walking is one of the best ways to see any Italian city; while you can take cabs, buses and metros, sometimes the only way to get a sense of the winding streets, or even to get to certain sites (hello, Forum and Palatine Hill), is on foot. So if the only thing between you and strolling for 8 hours straight is aerobic endurance, start changing it now. Your body — and wallet, and travel companions — will thank you.
Walk away, sister.
2. Have a plan for the practicals. Make sure you have an idea of not just what you'll see where, but also how you'll do things like get from the airport to your hotel or avoid long lines for popular sites. Also make sure you know how you'll access money (hint: many places don't accept credit cards, your account can be shut down by your bank unless you tell them you're traveling abroad first, and withdrawing from an ATM is generally far more cost-effective than exchanging hard currency).
No, your trip won't be a complete disaster if you don't think some of the more practical issues through. But you might wind up spending way more money, and having more of a headache, than necessary.
3. Not let the hype get to you… too much. Yes, Italy is fantastic. But depending on when and where you're going, it can also be chaotic, hot, crowded, disorganized, unreliable, and expensive. (A lot of that can be avoided or mitigated with a bit of planning, but sometimes things just, well, happen).
It's unlikely that you'll be disappointed — but don't go into it imagining the picture-perfect scenes and stereotypes of a movie like Eat, Pray, Love, either. Will a lot of your trip replicate the magic of Julia Roberts' (er, Liz Gilbert's) experience? Probably. But as long as you don't expect perfection, the little misperfections won't "ruin" the whole shebang.
Three New Year's resolutions for once you're there:
1. Go off the beaten path. Especially if it's your first trip to Italy, you'll probably want to hit up the greats: Rome, Florence, Venice. But if you can, consider adding in a daytrip out to the countryside or to a smaller city — some of my favorites from Rome are Spoleto and Orvieto. It'll help you not only to get away from the crowds, but get a sense of what Italy means for the millions here who aren't city dwellers.
2. Travel ethically. The impact of millions of visitors on Italy isn't benign — at its worst, it contributes to pollution, ruination of art and architecture, and weakened or overcommercialized local economies. Luckily, though, there are lots of ways you can help, from eating in-season foods to avoiding plastic water bottles. Click here for five more tips for how to travel ethically in Italy.
3. Get out from behind the camera. Okay, so maybe your neighbor, sister and Great Aunt Linda have all said they want you to take lots and lots of photos while you're in Italy because they want to see them all. But let's be serious. Nobody actually wants to see 38 photos in a row of the Trevi Fountain, even if some are of you with the Trevi Fountain, some are of you and your hubby with the Trevi Fountain, and some have a pretty clear view of the Trevi Fountain while others show the crowds, the mayhem and even that Bangladeshi guy who's trying to sell those ever-so-interesting flying spinning lit-up plastic discs.
And while you want to take photos so you can remember the Trevi Fountain, do you really need 38 to spark one memory… especially when you can just Google what the heck it looks like?
So: Unless photography's a big hobby, get out from behind the camera lens. Trying to enjoy your trip while also zooming in and out, playing with your different settings, forcing your subjects to smile until their faces freeze (and suffering their decreasing level of amenability), and sending silent death vibes to that random idiot who just will not get out of the frame — well, it's hard. And you know what? It doesn't help you remember the flavor of that killer pasta amatriciana or the feeling you had while standing in front of the Pieta for the first time all that much better.
Resolve to snap once, snap twice, snap three times (and please: keep your flash off in the Vatican's gallery of tapestries!)… and then put it away. Your travel companions will thank you. (Below, a true-to-life example of forcing the unwilling into photos).
Every time you travel, you have an impact on your destination.
As much as we avid travelers like to think to the contrary, that's not always a good thing. Your waste is now your destination's waste, your carbon footprint its carbon footprint. The choices you make of what to eat and buy can commercialize the agricultural systems and undercut the artisanal production of your destination. The list of potential harms goes on — which is why "invasive tourism" is such a risk for cities and sites worldwide.
That's as true for top destinations in Italy as it is anywhere else. Just recently, the head of the Vatican Museums announced that the 20,000 or so daily visitors to the Sistine Chapel are damaging the frescoes with their dust, sweat, and carbon dioxide. Ruins are deteriorating, artisans' shops closing down, and the center is commercializing — thanks to lots of global forces, not least of all tourism.
Luckily, though, with just a little forethought, you can travel ethically. And you have the power, both with your pocketbook and the other choices you make, to preserve that art, support that culinary tradition, and help those people you like so much.
Here, just a few easy things you can do to make sure that you're helping — not harming — the places in Italy (and elsewhere!) that you love visiting.
1. Never, ever touch the frescoes. Or paintings. Or sculptures. Or tapestries. The number-one way to harm most art is to touch it, transferring the natural oils from your skin onto its surface. That wears everything away from paint to bronze.
For proof, just check out the corners of doors, say in the Vatican's Borgia apartments, that have been frescoed; because these are easy to grab as you go down a hall, they're usually almost entirely worn away. Or check out the medieval bronze statue of St. Peter in St. Peter's Basilica. Hundreds of years of pilgrims kissing and touching its right foot have — you guessed it — worn away the right foot. So please, if you like art, stand and gaze at it. But never, ever touch it.
Be careful with that camera flash, too — it damages cloth and tapestries, as well as some painting. Always be sure it's okay before the bulb goes off.
2. Eat only foods in season. When tourists demand out-of-season products, like artichokes in November, that either forces Italy to import the food in question (that Roman artichoke isn't so Roman, and isn't so "green," if it's from France!), or screws up local agricultural rhythms and the environment as farmers try to adapt to commercial forces. Be aware: Learn what you can, and can't, expect to be in season where you're going. For a quick read-over of what is in season when you're visiting Italy and other tips on how to eat responsibly when traveling, check out Katie Parla's excellent tips for how to be a conscientious eater.
Pizza with fiori di zucca at Da Francesco, Rome? That's something you should only be eating between July and November…
3. Don't buy plastic water bottles. Yes, they're everywhere. Yes, Italians buy them, too. But the effect is terrible. In the Cinque Terre each August alone, 400,000 plastic bottles are found littering the park and its beaches. Venice, which manages 20 million visitors each year, gets trashed with 13 million plastic bottles. And even if you dispose of your plastic bottles properly, remember that that waste has to go somewhere in Italy. (If you're in Naples, of course, that garbage might just stay there).
Italy is taking steps to eradicate the problem: The Cinque Terre banned plastic bottles this past September. From now on, visitors will have the option to buy a 1 euro metal bottle and to refill it at the park's fountains. But for areas of Italy that haven't yet legislated the matter, do the same. Buy a glass or metal bottle and refill it. That's especially easy in Rome, where there are 2,500 nasoni spewing cold, fresh water around the city.
5. Walk, or use local transportation. Italy's cities are great for walking. But if you have to get somewhere faster, take the metro or bus. It's much "greener" than individual taxis — and cheaper and pretty easy to use, too.
6. Stay in agriturismi. They're super-cheap (think €30 to €50 per night), in every destination you could possibly want to visit in Italy, usually in beautiful settings, and they often include a home-cooked meal with ingredients all harvested or slaughtered right there. (Now that's hyperlocal).
Typical Tuscan agriturismo: the Agriturismo Sant'Apollinare
Sound too good to be true? It's not. There are few more-rewarding places to stay overnight than an agriturismo, or "farm stay." And far from the slightly-backwards, eating-in-the-kitchen-with-the-farmer's-family image the word sometimes conjures, nearly every agriturismo I've stayed at has been beautiful and clean, with super-friendly but not-obtrusive owners. Some even go up to the "luxury" scale, like the beautiful Fontanaro agriturismo in Umbria (pictured at top of page). It's got a pool and gorgeous villas — but makes all its own wine, honey, and olive oil, too.
6. Try to limit your air travel. Flying back and forth from Europe to the U.S. emits three to four tons of carbon. That's more emissions than 20 people living in Bangladesh will cause in a whole year. To reduce that impact, take trains, ferries or other transport whenever you can. Consider purchasing a "carbon offset" for your flight, and try to make fewer, longer trips rather than short journeys.
7. Think before you buy. Obviously, that's true with every purchase you make, whether at home or abroad. When you buy a scarf from a Rome vendor that was made in China, your coins vote for outsourcing; when you buy handmade leather gloves in Florence, you vote for local artisans.
Be aware, too, that not all local products are necessarily "ethical." I posted several weeks ago about the coral industry on the Amalfi coast. Yes, buying a coral necklace supports local jewelry-makers, but it supports the destruction of the coral reefs, too. Decide what's important to you — but try to be aware of the local issues, both cultural and environmental, first.
I recently posted on whether tourists to Rome should use the city's public transport (short version: I think yes). For many, though, being told that Rome's buses and metros are fairly frequent, reliable, and cheap is all well and good, but how the heck do you actually use them?
And so: Some top questions — and answers — about Rome's public transportation.
Where do you buy a ticket? You can buy your ticket — which combines unlimited bus rides and one metro ride from 75 minutes after validation — at any tobacco shops or metro stations. Some bus stops, like the one at Largo Argentina, also have ticket machines. Some buses do on board, as well, but I wouldn't count on it. I've posted previously on how to find a tabaccaioand what else you can buy there.
Should I get a RomaPass? What are my other options? The RomaPass is easy and convenient: For €25, you get two free site entrances, discounted entrances elsewhere, and unlimited public transport, for three days. But as I've written before, it's not for everyone, even when you consider that it lets you "skip the line" at sites.
If you're getting the RomaPass primarily to save on public transport, meanwhile, you're making the wrong choice. You have other (and cheaper) options, all sold by the city at the same locations as the normal €1 tickets. For €4, you can get an unlimited ticket for a day. €11 gets you an unlimited ticket for three days (that's less than half the cost of the RomaPass). And if you're staying for a week, you can spring for the €16 ticket, good for seven days.
Why didn't anyone check my bus ticket? Because they don't do it that way here. Instead of checking your ticket when you get on the bus, instead, Rome will (very occasionally) send guards onto buses at random stops to check all the passengers for their tickets. If you don't have a validated ticket, you get a fine. They used to do the metro this way, too, but that system changed a few years ago.
I had a ticket and when the bus was checked, I got a fine! Why? First, bad luck! Checks seem to happen very, very rarely — I take the bus once or twice a day, and I've been checked only twice in the past year.
The reason why your ticket wasn't sufficient, though, is probably because you didn't validate it. That means running it through the yellow machine on the bus as soon as you get on. (The metro does this for you when you feed your ticket through). The machine stamps your ticket with the time; if it's been 75 minutes since validation or if the ticket was never validated at all, it's, well, invalid. Otherwise, everyone would just carry the same ticket around and use it over and over and over.
If someone tries to give me a fine, should I pay it on the spot or wait? If you're unlucky enough to have screwed up the time, failed to validate, or plain old forgotten to buy a ticket — and get checked — you'll probably be given an option by the guard. You can pay €50 in cash on the spot. Or, you can fill out a form to get a fine sent to you at your home address, to the tune of €100.
The offer of cash-in-pocket seems a little sketchy. But it's not. It's even written on the sign with ticket prices that you should see when you get on the bus (in Italian). My best guess is that they have the two separate fees because they know that, if they send you a fine at your home address, it will most likely 1) not ever arrive or 2) not ever be paid by you, who's returned back to your foreign home country and will never be forced to deal with said fine…and, most likely, not even be forced to deal with it even if you returned to Italy, even to live. By offering you the cash option instead, at least this way, they know they have the money.
Why doesn't the metro run to Piazza Navona, the Pantheon, and other sites that seem like they'd be pretty useful? Rome's working on building metro Line C, which will go closer to some of those sites. In general, though, Rome's lines A and B skirt the centro storico. That's primarily because it's too tough archaeologically: Whether you're walking around Piazza Venezia or the Pantheon, you have an ancient city from 10 to 20 feet beneath your feet. It's pretty hard to build a metro line there, particularly with entrances, without disrupting all of those archaeological treasures.
How can you tell at the bus stops what the bus route is? With difficulty! Romans know Rome pretty well — and the bus stops were designed for them, not for tourists. So instead of a handy bus route map at each stop, you get, instead, a somewhat-befuddling list of the names of bus stops. (Shown above).
Sometimes, this can work out. Piazza Venezia is a stop that's usually listed as "Venezia" or "Piazza Venezia"; "Aracoeli" takes you there, too. But Piazza Navona is rarely "Piazza Navona" (look for "Rinascimento," instead), and if you get on a bus to "San Pietro", you might wind up pretty darn far from St. Peter's Basilica — instead, the closest stop is the one called "Cavalleggeri." And if you want to get to the Cavour metro stop, don't get on a bus with a stop called "Cavour." That'll take you over near the Vatican.
Confused yet?
The best way to use the buses, therefore, is to plan a route — and have a bus number in mind — in advance. Unless you know Rome fairly well, just wandering around looking for a bus with the stops you want can be an all but impossible way to get around.
So how do you plan a route or figure out what bus you want in advance? Ah, here it gets simple: Go to www.atac.roma.it. Put in your starting point (in the "da" box) and destination ("a"). Click "vai," and your route is planned out for you. Bus numbers and all.
Few aspects of a city are more necessary — or more potentially infuriating — than public transport. That's as true of Rome as it is anywhere else.
Still, many visitors come to Rome with some big misconceptions about its public transportation systems. The biggest? That Rome's public transport is incredibly confusing, and only for locals, and tourists should stick to taking taxis instead. Or that it's terrible and just so much worse than the systems in other countries.
First: It's true that cabs can be an attractive alternative to public transport. They get you exactly where you want to go, they're everywhere (usually), and they're cheaper than taxis in other cities, like London or New York.
But. All of those fares add up; spending 8 euros each time you have to get somewhere instead of the 1 euro a bus costs makes a big difference. Secondly, just when you want one, you won't be able to find one; many taxis seem to use taxi stands instead of cruising the streets looking for fares, and if it's rainy or just before dinner-time, it can be tough to flag one down.
Finally, you have to be pretty careful when taking taxis. While it's getting better, some drivers won't hesitate to try to rip off a tourist, either by taking a circuitous route, not turning on the meter, or running the meter on the wrong rate. (Stay tuned for a future post on taking taxis in Rome).
That's where public transport comes in.
Many visitors shy away from Rome's buses and metros, seeming to think the system is terrible. It's not perfect, but it's certainly better than that of many other cities I've traveled in. Overall, Rome's buses and subways are clean, cheap (one euro per ride), frequent, and relatively reliable.
The metro system, especially, is remarkably good. I've never waited longer than 5 minutes for the next train. (I can't say the same for most other cities I've been in, from D.C. to New York). And a handy little display tells you how many minutes away the next metro is, like London's Tube.
The problem with the metro, though, is that it doesn't cut through most of the centro storico. (Line C, currently being dug, should fix some of that, but don't plan on using it unless your next trip to Italy is sometime after 2015). So the metro is great for getting from, say, the Spanish Steps to the Vatican, but not for getting to Piazza Navona, the Pantheon, or myriad other sites in the center.
That's where the buses come in.
And while I complain about them all the time, I have to admit: The buses, too, are fairly reliable. They also go all over the place, even down those narrow, winding streets that you wouldn't expect even smart cars to venture down, never mind city buses.
But if you opt to take the bus, remember that some come far more often than others. And one bus that usually comes every 10 minutes might, when you try to get it, take 25 minutes to arrive. (Sod's Law tends to apply even more in Rome than other cities). Only some of the stops tell you when the next bus is arriving, and even that information can be wrong.
Still. I like the bus because it goes more places, and you can look around at Rome's beautiful buildings while you're riding.
So: If you're coming to Rome, plan to walk. Plan to take a cab, maybe. But also do yourself a favor — and do as the locals do — and take Rome's bus or metro.
It may not seem that Italians always love rules in general — but food rules in Italy? Absolutely quintessential. It doesn’t matter if you’re at a fine-dining establishment with jacketed waiters or chowing down on pizza at a plastic table: There are some things that, when it comes to dining etiquette in Italy, will always get you dirty looks. Or snide comments from the servers.
Below, 11 ways to make servers into enemies and annoy neighboring Italians — all while doing the seemingly-simple task of consuming food.
(2019 update:Since I wrote this post nine (!!!) years ago, some things have changed… slightly. Namely, there is so much more tourism to cities like Rome than even a few years ago. The results of this are what you might expect.
First, servers are becoming less disgusted taken aback by non-Italian food habits. They’re more used to seeing it. Second, the local culture is changing: Italy in general (like the rest of the world) is becoming more globalized and locals are following more international trends. So while Italy’s food culture remains unique (and I hope it always stays that way), you can now find (a handful of) restaurants serving US-style breakfast or pizzas with unusual gourmet toppings, for example.
That being said, even if you can get away with breaking these traditions, part of the allure of Italy is its tradition! (Particularly food tradition, of course). And Italians I know still abide by all of the below. So I still stand behind all of these dining etiquette tips (and abide by them!) 100%. That being said, I recommend looking at the comments section below the post — Italians from other parts of the country have chipped in on how true they think these each are in their region (or at all), and it’s been fascinating to read!)
Without further ado, here are the food rules in Italy you won’t want to break.
Food rule in Italy #1: Don’t expect (US-style) breakfast.
Unless your hotel provides it, don’t expect your first meal of the day to be anything like back home. Most Italians start their day with a mere coffee, or a coffee and cornetto. Cereal is starting to hit grocery-store shelves, but it still seems a rare choice — and if you’re looking for good old scrambled eggs and pancakes, forget about it! If you can’t start your day without, either pick a hotel that explicitly offers American-style brunch or plan to grocery shop and cook your own food.
Food rule in Italy #1: Only order coffee after a meal.
What horror! Coffee is seen as a way to help you digest your meal, so drinking it alongside is seen as misguided… even dangerous. (Breakfast, as above, is the one exception to this).
An espresso like this one is an any-time-of-day kind of drink. A cappuccino, however…
Food rule in Italy #3: If it’s after noon, that can’t be a cappuccino that you’re ordering.
Many Italians follow rules regarding mixing dairy and meat that seem as strict as keeping kosher — only somewhat less consistent. While you might think, given the previous rule, that you’d be allowed to have a cappuccino after a meal, you’d be wrong. A cappuccino has milk in it! You’ve probably just eaten meat! The mix of the two in your stomach can make you get sick and die! (Yes, that pizza with anchovies, or the mozzarella di bufala you consumed as an appetizer…with prosciutto, should do the same thing. But for some funny reason, it doesn’t.) And yes, this rule applies even if you had an all-vegetarian meal. Or if you haven’t eaten at all and are simply grabbing a 4pm coffee.
Remember: The clock strikes noon, the coffee goes normale.
In Napoli, it’s okay to pack pasta together, fry it, and slice it, but dip your bread in olive oil and vinegar? Never!
Food rule in Italy #4: If olive oil (or olive oil and vinegar) didn’t come with your bread, don’t ask for it.
Why would you need olive oil? Or vinegar? Oh, wait, because you want to eat your bread before the courses come? Well, then, make sure you see etiquette mistake #5… (NB: At fancier places, you will indeed be offered bread with olive oil before the meal as a kind of taster. But this advice pertains mostly to classic, down-home trattorias, where bread is seen as an accompaniment to your main — see below).
Food rule in Italy #5: And eat said bread with the meal.
If you’re starving, okay. (Who am I kidding — I start chowing down on bread before the food comes almost every time). But at classic trattorias, the bread is there as an accompaniment to your primi and secondi, especially to dip into leftover sauces (again, admittedly not the most elegant thing to do, so don’t do this at La Pergola — but at a humble hosteria it’s fine), not as a way to fill you up pre-dinner.
Order it, eat it, enjoy it — just don’t ask for grated cheese to be put on it
Food rule in Italy #5: Don’t ask for parmesan for your pizza.
It doesn’t even matter if you know how to say it (parmigiano). Putting it on pizza is seen as a sin, like putting Jell-o on a fine chocolate mousse. When a friend of mine did this recently at La Montecarlo, the waiter sneered so much I thought his lips were going to curl into his forehead. “Parmigiano per la pizza?” he spat with disdain. And La Montecarlo is a pizzeria that’s used to tourists. Imagine how they’d treat you at a pizzeria that wasn’t!
(Noticing a theme among these food rules in Italy? It’s true: When in doubt, if you haven’t been served it, don’t ask for it. Only if you want to avoid annoying the servers, of course. If you don’t mind, then by all means, go right ahead!).
The cheese you see on this beautiful carbonara was Pecorino… and it’s there only because the server offered it
Food rule in Italy #7: In fact, only put cheese on a plate when it’s explicitly offered.
Outside of Italy, many of us tend to put parmesan on everything. But remember that many pasta dishes in Italy aren’t meant for parmesan. In Rome, for example, the traditional cheese is pecorino, and that’s what goes on classics like pasta carbonara, calcio e pepe, and amatriciana. Not parmesan. As a rule of thumb: If they don’t offer it to you, don’t ask for it.
Food rule in Italy #8: Ask the person who brought your food — not who took your order — when you want more water, wine, etc.
The person who brings your food often isn’t the same person who takes your order. If you make the mistake of asking that person for another bottle of water, as I have before, you may get a dirty look. And a hand gesture, of course. Not an especially nice one.
Food rule in Italy #9: Ordering acqua del rubinetto at anything but a bar.
Yes, Rome’s water is perfectly safe — and yes, you’re allowed to ask for it at restaurants. But when eating out, Italians almost always drink bottled water. (In Rome and the south, the preferred type is normally sparkling, or frizzante). I’ve been told that this is because there’s a lot of calcium in the tap water, so Italians mix it up with bottled so they don’t get kidney stones. I’ve also been told it’s because Italians simply don’t trust anything provided by the state. Who knows. But it’s what the locals do. Some restaurants will simply refuse you if you ask for tap water (although bars and cafés, when selling you a cocktail or a coffee, should allow it).
Food rule in Italy #10: If you’re eating, you’re sitting down.
Much like the Parisians, Romans look down on anyone chowing down on bus, metro, or on foot. It’s anathema to the entire philosophy of eating: Dinner should be a meal that you sit and enjoy, preferably for two, even three hours. Eating while doing anything else is seen as sloppy, desperate (can you really be that hungry?), and missing the whole point. The one exception: Gelato, which you’ll see whole families tucking into on their Sunday evening strolls.
The one thing you can eat on the go? Gelato
Food rule in Italy #11: If you want the bill, you have to ask for it.
Unlike in the US and other countries, it’s seen as a terrible breach of restaurant etiquette in Italy for a waiter to bring your bill and whisk away your plates as soon as you’ve finished your food. You’re supposed to have the liberty (and luxury) of lingering at your table, finishing your wine, water and even ordering a coffee.
So once you’re ready to go, signal for the waiter and say, “Il conto, per favore.” The universal squiggly-finger-in-the-air hand signal will always work, too.
Haven’t gotten the bill yet? You may need to ask
Major caveat: It’s not as if I always adhere to dining etiquette in Italy. While I’ve gotten good at automatically ordering a caffè normale after noon or asking for a bottiglia d’acqua gassata upon sitting down, I particularly annoy waiters by consistently asking for salt. I can’t help it: My sodium-drenched American palate finds a lot of Italian food just slightly bland. It’s just that I’ve learned to expect frowns in return.
So go ahead, break the rules. Just do so at your own risk… and have a salty Roman response in reserve for the potential comments.
If you liked this post, you’ll love The Revealed Rome Handbook: 2020 Update, available for purchase on Amazon or through my site here! I’m also free for one-on-one consulting sessions to help plan your Italy trip.
Even with the best English-Italian dictionary, some Italian words baffle. Like tabaccaio. "Tobacco shop," sure. But what else is going on in there — and why does everyone seem to think it's so useful?
First, make sure you have the pronunciation right: "ch" is hard in Italian, so it's tah-back-ee or tah-back-aye-oh, not tab-atch-ee. (One poor tourist confessed to me the other day, "Oh no! I've been saying 'tab-atch-ee' for years of coming to Italy!")
Second, a tabaccaio is not just a tobacco shop. Yes, you can get cigarettes there — but you can get a bottle of water, gum, and likely postcards, batteries and international calling cards, too.
Most usefully, it's where you can get tickets for public transport. At the counter, just ask for "un biglietto per l'autobus" or "due/tre/etc. biglietti" (the ticket works for the bus, tram and metro); it's €1 per ticket. You'll also see Italians using the tabaccaio to pay their electric or phone bills and to "top up" their pay-as-you-go phones.
When you're looking for a tabacchaio, just scan your street for the telltale blue sign with a white T. Just remember that many tabacchi, especially outside of the tourist centers,close during lunchtime and around 6 or 7 at night.
Who ever said Italy’s Ministry of Cultural Heritage and Activities was behind the times? On July 1, they launched an iPhone application to help tourists, and archaeologically-engaged locals, find their way around the city’s top sites.
Called the i-Mibac, the application offers information about opening hours and prices, as well as an expert’s overview. Most exciting, though, is that you can book your tickets straight from your iPhone — particularly helpful at sites like the Colosseum, where the line can stretch around the block. The app can be downloaded, for free, at the apps store. Right now, it works on the iPhone, iPad and iPod Touch, but the ministry says it’s working on making it available on other smartphones, too.
