La Dolce Vita: Part II – Eating Our Way Through Italy
You cannot talk about Italy and not mention the cuisine! Our adventure in Italy with our adult sons was filled with many memorable moments: the ancient ruins, the stunning landscapes, the jaw-dropping architecture. But, at times, those moments seemed to play second fiddle to the real star of the show—the food. Watching my sons eat their way through Italy, while still managing to squeeze in sightseeing, was a feat in itself!
The Multi-Course Marathon
Every restaurant menu in Italy is its own marathon, recommending Antipasti, Primo Piatto, Secondo Piatto…all the way to Dolce (dessert). My boys embraced this concept with open arms (and open stomachs), tackling each meal like it was their mission.
My older son, Peter, became a bit of a specialist, trying similar dishes across multiple restaurants. By the end of the trip, he could probably give you a detailed review of who had the best Carbonara or Cacio e Pepe in all of Rome. Michael, on the other hand, took the more adventurous route, channeling his inner Gordon Ramsay—minus the shouting—tasting everything he could get his hands on, whether it was a classic or something totally new.
And then, of course, came the gelato. Somewhere during our nine-hour flight to Italy, evolution must have gifted my boys with a hidden second stomach—a gelato-specific one. I say “hidden” because, looking at them, you’d never believe how much they can eat! Yes, feel free to be as annoyed as I am. Meanwhile, if I so much as pass by a gelato shop, I gain weight by osmosis.
“Chi mangia bene, vive bene.
(He who eats well, lives well.)”
My Big Fat Greek (I mean Italian) Moment
Italians take their food seriously—something my Greek mom would wholeheartedly respect. From antipasti to dessert, food isn’t just a meal; it’s an experience. And if you don’t finish your plate? Well, that’s practically a class A felony. In Florence, I mistakenly ordered a tri-pasta dish, not realizing that each pasta was a meal in itself. The waiter smiled approvingly as he watched my band of hungry men devour their plates, but his eyes narrowed when he noticed I had barely made a dent in mine. Suddenly, I felt like a kid again, with my mom looming over me, reminding me about starving children around the world. I turned to my sons and their bottomless stomachs for help. Naturally, they didn’t disappoint.
Ice Ice Baby (Or Not)
After meals, we usually like some coffee...Iced coffee to be more specific. Apparently, it's not a thing in Italy. You’d think this might be a European trend, but as someone of Greek descent, I grew up with both hot Greek coffee and the classic iced Frappe. In recent years, Greece has even made the Cappuccino Freddo all the rage (with “freddo” being the Italian word for cold). So, naturally, my son asked for a Cappuccino Freddo in Rome, assuming that the drink must have originated there. But no…this isn’t Starbucks where the rules for drink names with sizes don't match up (seriously, “Grande” or “Venti?”). The waiter, with a polite yet firm tone, corrected him, “Cappuccino… you drink HOT.” Humbled by the wisdom of Italian waiter, my son accepted the hot cappuccino without further protest. After all, when in Rome...
No Preservatives? No Problem
The food in Italy? Fresher, more vibrant—like every tomato was handpicked by a sun-kissed farmer just moments before it hit your plate. Each bite was a delicious reminder of how far we’ve strayed from true farm-to-table back home (where even "fresh" has a suspiciously long shelf life). In Italy, even the simplest meal feels like an explosion of flavor.
What’s even more amazing? After savoring a multi-course meal, we didn’t feel like we needed to be rolled out of the restaurant. Sure, the concept of supersizing isn’t a thing here—outside of the U.S., nobody seems to think a single meal should come in a bucket. But it was more than just portion control, the food seemed "lighter." This is probably because of the emphasis on fresh, seasonal ingredients and fewer artificial additives. It’s not that Italy never uses preservatives but because of stricter regulations, it certainly less than what we're used to in the United States. You actually feel good after you eat, like your body knows it’s getting real food. But I’ll save the deep dive on that for another post perhaps. 🍅
Full Stomachs, Full Hearts
Despite a couple of cultural quirks—like the baffling absence of iced coffee and the must-finish-your-plate mentality—the warmth of the Italian people and their undeniable passion for food made every moment unforgettable. Their pride in every dish, from antipasti to dessert, was infectious and we left each meal with full hearts (and even fuller stomachs).
As for my sons – with their iron-clad metabolisms and bottomless second stomachs – they thoroughly enjoyed eating their way through Italy. I’m still convinced they could have squeezed in a third gelato a day if challenged. Maybe I’ll test their limits on our next family trip. Wherever we end up, I’ll be the one doing extra laps around a Colosseum equivalent while they happily devour the local cuisine without a care in the world.
P.S. Thinking of visiting Italy? I may just put together a list of our favorite spots for you to try—stay tuned!
Video of some highlights of our food journey in Italy