Sabrina Lloyd

For Mother’s Day weekend we drove to the country to see this: We stayed on an organic farm, in an old stone house: which is this: where they gave us this menu for lunch: Now in most places (or at least places I have been) you would order one from each section, making a full meal. I tried in vain to do just that, but after some very funny Italian and finally switching to English, I was made to understand that no, there would be no ordering. This is what we will be eating, what

This is a marocchino. It’s dark chocolate melted into a cup, then filled with lots of espresso, a little foamed milk, and topped off with more chocolate. The first time I had it I thought, “Oh. This must be what it’s like to have speed injected directly into your eyeball.” I’m not addicted at all. #food #rome

I was wondering today, as I drank my fourth cup of espresso and felt my heart pounding in my toes, how the Italians do it. Espresso, vino, molta pasta tutto giorno! And then I realized  the progression, the procession, that is a must to live the Italian way. Shunning pasta in favor of grilled salmon, I inadvertently stepped out of the line and thus stand struggling on the sidelines. For this is how, I think,  it must go: You wake and have an espresso (or 5) with your sweet cr

Italians love their sweets. For breakfast it’s always, always dolce. You cannot find a plain croissant in Rome. Most are stuffed with jam or custard, and if you ask for a plain one it’s been glazed with sugar, because why would you eat it otherwise? And for treats throughout the day? Well, of course, more dolce. At my daughter’s school we’ve been battling this part of the culture. I sucked it up as long as I could, biting my lip and tongue as I watched them giving her cocoa p