I am calling bullshit on Italian breakfast

I’m in Italy and I figured I’d get this out there before I forget how angry I am right now once I get back to a country where IHOP is a constitutional right.

Italian breakfast food is bullshit.

The pasta and the bruschetta and the carbs are all delicious. I have never eaten such fresh and delicious food in my entire life except for all Israeli food ever.

But that’s dinner. You have to make it to dinner alive.

We’ve been in Italy for four days and I WANT SOME BREAKFAST FOOD.  Waffles, pancakes, eggs, cereal, something. Please, God, even fruit. Even yogurt. Anything. A single corn flake. I’ll eat it off the floor of Naples if I have to. It’s that serious.

Because what’s the other option?

This is Italian breakfast.

Ready?

You blinked. You missed it.

Here it is again.

It’s the leftover part of your brother’s  muffin and the remaints of the extra-extra-super-small of whatever they give you at Starbucks. This cannot be more than 300 calories. Probably up to 320 if you eat the cappuccino foam. Which I’m doing, because after you eat this, you have to walk 6-7 miles a day.  You need that foam.

Oh! I forgot to mention you can also compliment your coffee with a cigarette, which is great, except that Mr. B and I are non-smokers, so we end up chewing our nails for the extra protein.

And can you buy breakfast at the supermarket? Yes! They are open from 9:30 or whenever they feel like it, which is usually after the time you leave to do stuff for the day. So basically, eat a big dinner, because otherwise, Slimfast.

Please, someone give me a single scrambled egg.

God bless America, land of the brunch.

 

 

Vicki

6 thoughts on “I am calling bullshit on Italian breakfast

    1. Only in continental Europe, and actually mostly Italy. England has top-notch breakfasts and French croissants are better than cornetti.

  1. That actually looks a lot like the breakfasts I used to have when I lived as a boarder with a French family. We would get black coffee and one slice of white toast (not a croissant) with jam. I was always ready to gnaw my own fingers off by ten am.

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