We'll never fool anyone into thinking that we're Italian at all. Heck, to hear us bludgeon even the simple "buongiorno" greeting, you'd think that we had something against the country and its language. Not so, I swear. We're just tourists.
When Conrad and I visited Italy in 2017, we adopted the practice we observed in Rome of going to a nearby coffee/pastry shop and standing at the counter, enjoying a hot drink and a sweet treat for breakfast. Where our hotels did not provide breakfast, we enjoyed this habit. On Ischia, our hotel provided breakfast. And yet, we were up and walking early enough that one morning we decided to have a pre-breakfast. We had passed a place a few times on our walks, and it lured us in one day.
Coffees,
pastries, sitting outside on the sidewalk instead of standing at the bar. Close enough!
A nice find there were the sfogliatella.
Italy week on Great British Bake Off first showed me them (oh, the bakers struggled), and then I sampled one at a Christmas Eve Feast of the Seven Fishes dinner at a local restaurant (underwhelming, sorry to say). Here was my chance! Friends, it did not disappoint even remotely. That flaky, crisp pastry! So good.
So yes, Conrad
and Van
and I attempted to fit in. Ha! But we weren't unhappy when, during our next leg in Bologna, the hotel did not provide breakfast and we were left to fend for ourselves at a nearby cafe. But we'll save Bologna for another blog entry!
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