Words & Photos Shelley Tice
This summer, our family spent a month travelling through Italy. We saw ancient cities, wandered through villages, climbed towers, swam in thermal pools and walked more kilometres than we could count. But one of our favourite ways to understand each place was much simpler: we ate our way through it.
Rather than sticking to familiar favourites, we made it our mission to discover what each city or region was known for. Every place seemed to have a dish, pastry, sandwich or snack that told a little story about where we were.
In Rome, we started with the classics – carbonara and cacio e pepe – but quickly discovered that Roman food goes far beyond pasta. We tried suppli, crispy fried rice balls with melted cheese inside, and learned that sometimes the best discoveries come when you simply ask.
One afternoon, we asked our waiter what he recommended. His suggestion was a pizza topped with artichokes and prosciutto. It turned out to be one of the best pizzas we had ever eaten.
Another local recommended a small family restaurant where I ordered a fig and prosciutto panini. I am not exaggerating when I say it may have been the best sandwich of my life.
Sometimes we searched out recommendations we had received before leaving home. In Florence, we made our way to Trattoria 4 Leoni for pear, walnut and cheese pasta – a combination that sounded unusual but was absolutely delicious. We also stood in line at All’Antico Vinaio for their famous oversized panini. The sandwiches lived up to the hype.
Other discoveries happened simply by following our curiosity. We asked people we met where they liked to eat, wandered into neighbourhood bakeries and explored small butcher shops. We sampled local cheeses in Puglia, tried truffle salt and discovered taralli – crunchy, twisted crackers flavoured with fennel that quickly became a favourite.
The grocery store became another way to explore. In every town, we wandered the aisles looking at different chocolates, cookies, chips and drinks, with everyone choosing something new to try.
We learned that even buying produce came with a lesson – in Italy, you weigh it yourself before taking it to the checkout.
In Lecce, we ate rustico – flaky puff pastry filled with béchamel, mozzarella and tomato sauce – sitting on the steps of a local church. In Puglia, we tried freshly made orecchiette, the region’s distinctive ear-shaped pasta. In Sorrento, we enjoyed gnocchi alla Sorrentina in a simple, delicious tomato sauce, followed by lemon gelato served inside a giant local lemon.
On Ischia, we discovered the zingara sandwich, made with rustic bread, prosciutto and fresh mozzarella. One evening, we took a water taxi to dinner to try the local seafood. Getting there by boat as the sun went down, then sitting together over dinner, made the meal about much more than what was on our plates.
In Florence, a cooking class gave us a chance to make pizza in a wood-fired oven and lemon gelato, while visits to local markets introduced us to ingredients we might otherwise have walked right past.
And then there was Venice, where we went looking for cicchetti – small plates enjoyed in the early evening, often alongside a spritz. By then, we had come to appreciate the Italian tradition of aperitivo – slowing down at the end of the day with a drink, a few small bites and good conversation. It was the perfect way to end our time in Italy.
What surprised me most was how much food taught us about Italy. We learned about geography, seasons, local ingredients and traditions, but we also learned about slowing down. We found ourselves eating later in the evening, when the heat of the day had passed, lingering over meals rather than rushing through them.
Not everything we tried was a hit. There were dishes that left us wondering what all the fuss was about, and a few things none of us were eager to order twice, but that was part of the fun! Most of the time, we loved discovering something new, and even when we didn’t, we had a story to tell.
Food also became our way of connecting with people. We asked questions, listened to recommendations and trusted the advice of strangers. Those conversations often led us somewhere we never would have found on our own – like a robot cat sushi restaurant in Lucca.
And the food didn’t stay in Italy. Some of our favourite souvenirs were edible – little pieces of the places we had visited that we could bring home and share. Each treat came with a story about where we found it or who recommended it, giving us another way to share a little piece of our Italian adventure with those at home.
Perhaps the best part of travelling this way is that it makes you appreciate home, too. After a month of pasta, panini, pizza and gelato, our family had one request when we arrived home: could we please have a vegetable stir-fry?
Italy reminded us that food is about much more than what is on the plate. It is about place, tradition, curiosity and connection. It is about sitting down together, trying something new and sharing the experience.
For our family, eating our way through Italy became one of the best ways to experience it – one bite, one recommendation and one unexpected discovery at a time.
