Culture Shock: Lodging in Italy

Culture Shock: An Americans' Guide to Getting Around (and Getting Along) in Italy

Timothy R. Adams

Eating

Traditional Italian food is fabulous, but eating and drinking in Italy is often a bit different than what we’re used to in the states. And there are some seemingly strict local customs.

Breakfast is often included with your lodging whether at hotels or convents. The difference here is that the locals don’t eat the heavy breakfasts Americans are used to. Typically, the breakfast consists of rolls and butter, cheese, and/or cereal served with coffee and juice. At some hotels, we’ve also been offered slices of salami and mortadella. Eggs, bacon, pancakes and grits are not normally found on the Italian breakfast table.

If staying at a convent where breakfast is not included, you should be aware that your best bet for a bite to eat early in the morning is a bar or bakery, if you can find one open. Outside of Milan and Rome, we didn’t find much open before eight o’clock. This is very unlike the Chicago-area where you can get an egg sandwich and coffee at 5:30 a.m.

Speaking of coffee, when you ask for coffee, you get what we call espresso. Order espresso, and you will be identified as a tourist. Cappuccino is a strong coffee, diluted with frothy milk and has a bit of chocolate at the top. (It’s called cappuccino because it resembles the color of the robes worn by the Cappuchin monks.) Cappuccino is a breakfast or early in the day form of coffee; if you order it after 10:30 a.m. you will be identified as a tourist. Coffee at bars is served in ceramic, not paper, cups. People stand at bars to drink and eat. Table service costs extra.

Unlike the U.S., Italians don’t walk the streets of their cities holding paper cups filled with their favorite coffee vendor’s concoction. They tend to eat and drink standing at restaurants and bars, but not walking in public. (I realized that I had “gone native” after several weeks in Florence when I saw a man walking on a street near the Duomo while stuffing a morning pizza into his mouth, and was struck with the same level of disbelief as if I had seen him standing on a train platform in suburban Chicago wearing shorts, sandals and a tank-top while waiting for commuter train with his briefcase and laptop computer.)

Later in the morning, you can start planning lunch. Outside tables at cafes are scenic and quaint, but often have a slightly higher-priced menu. We often eat outside anyway. Many times we buy food at markets and picnic in a nearby piazza. This allows us to enjoy the local cuisine as well as the atmosphere, However, picnicking is more complicated than in the states, because in Italy, the markets are specialty stores that are not self-service.

Shopping in markets in Italy is like shopping in American markets at the start of the 20^th century. And food freshness is important. There is no supermarket where you can buy everything at one place; there are individual speciality stores for meat, fish, dairy, bakery, etc. In addition, farmer’s markets are held daily in large cities like Rome, and weekly in smaller cities like Ercolano, Galuzzo, Fiesole, Pompeii, etc.

You can buy a ready-made sandwich or make one from parts. Ready-made sandwiches seem to be freshly made every day, but once a day. Italian refrigeration standards are not the same as American, so if I’m not sure when the ready-made sandwich was made, I try to find a deli that will make one fresh, before my very eyes.

If you can’t find a reasonably fresh sandwich, opt for the do-it-yourself lunch. Go to a deli for the meats and cheese. Maybe you can get salads there, maybe not. Then you go to a bakery for an endless variety of breads and rolls. (The baker will slice the bread for you if you ask.) It’s important to remember that customers are not allowed to touch merchandise until they buy it. Often it takes several stops in several stores to assemble a lunch. But it’s fresh and it’s extremely tasty.

The flavors of fresh Italian foods seem very intense compared to what we buy at home. I often find our American food quite bland for several weeks after coming home. For example, Italians will not serve a tomato or a fig unless it’s ripened to perfection; many Americans have never eaten a truly ripe tomato.

Food manufacturing and preparation are respected careers here. They are taken quite seriously. Fast food is an unfamiliar concept. For example, a cheese-maker serves a 12-year apprenticeship to learn the trade.

The Italian tap water isn’t quite up to the same standards as American drinking water, so bottled water is the norm, not the exception. Bottled water is not free. One evening we were eating under an awning at an outdoor café during a rainstorm in Rome, when some German tourists stopped at a table to get out of the rain. They ordered and were served water. Before the waiter could get out there to take the order, the couple took off without paying. The restaurant staff was not amused.

Supper is not merely a meal; it’s an experience. To avoid unwanted attention, expect to eat a full meal, plus wine. The local culture defines dinner at minimum as an appetizer (i.e., grilled vegetables), first course (pasta or rice), second course (meat), and dessert (fresh fruit). In remote areas where there are not a lot of tourists, waiters seem to get cranky or roll their eyes when we Americans order only some pasta and pizza.

American-style deep-dish pizza with lots of cheese in no way resembles the typical Neopolitan pizza which is personal-sized (12"), very thin, often has no cheese, is made with fresh ingredients and is ALWAYS baked in a wood-burning brick oven. These pizzas are served hot with lots of flavor.

Bakeries also sell pizza bread by the kilogram. You can purchase hot or cold slices with many different ingredients. These are perfect for picnics.

Another big difference is that Italians don’t chill their drinks as much as Americans, and if they do use ice, they use very little. Many hotels do not even have ice machines. Travelers often must go to the hotel bar and ask for ice. Even then, it is difficult to communicate the concept of ice cubes unless you use the proper word. Then if you’re lucky, you will receive a bowl of ice.

Scheduling supper is a bit of a problem if you’re used to eating your main meal at five or six. Don’t plan to eat until after 7:00, because most of the restaurants don’t open until late.

Italians seem to tolerate communal restaurant seating better than Americans. Even in highly-rated restaurants, it’s not unusual to be seated at a table with perfect strangers. We discovered this cultural quirk in Florence. We were seated at a large eight-person table that I thought we had to ourselves. Then, the host seated an Italian couple at the opposite end. Not too bad I thought, until he seate*d an English-speaking the two couples. This threesome was English-speaking and included a gentleman who was seemingly trying to impress the ladies he was with. It didn’t take long to realize that we really didn’t want to engage in conversation. My girlfriend and I looked at each other. I quietly said, “Italiano soltanto?” She nodded. We carried all of our dinner conversation in Italian, which is difficult because I have the vocabulary of a rather slow-learning parakeet. As we listened to the three-some, our interest in not getting involved was re-affirmed. (Although, it was hard to pretend not to understand what the gent was saying, and keep a straight face at the same time.) I’m not sure if this is part of a culture that is more sociable than what we’re used to, or simply a necessity because of the lack of space, but the locals seem to take it in stride. In any event, our other table-sharing experiences were less bizarre.

For a traditional dessert, forget cake and pie, but expect fruit, cheeses, and gelato. Gelato is Itlian ice that is superior to that relatively tasteless stuff we eat here in the states. It’s smooth, creamy, freshly made with an almost endless variety of flavors. Since it has less fat, it’s healthier, too (but who cares?). It’s also much cheaper than American ice cream.

When we return to Chicago, American food seems bland and boring to me. But, I’m happy to be able to buy what I want, when I want, and as much (or as little) as I want.

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Picnicking in the piazza has its peril when local food inspectors insist on checking out your lunch. Thankfully, the pigeons aren’t this pushy in Chicago. (Florence, November 1999)

Where we go for morning cappuccino when staying at the Instituto Oblate dell’ Assunzione. (Florence, November 2001)

World-class deli in Bologna. (November 2001)

Fresh produce at Mercato Centrale in Florence. (November 2001)

Oranges and other citric fruit grown in the volcanic soil near Mount Vesuvius are so delicious that people buy them by the carload. (Pompeii, March 2000)