An American Breakfast

With all of my adulations of Italian cuisine, my years here in Rome have made me reflect on my own culture. The efficiency, the cleanliness, the open spaces, family, round doorknobs, etc. Italy beats America in food frequently – but not always. When it comes to breakfast, America wins, hands down.

Italy doesn’t hold a flame to America when it comes to breakfast. Of course, a cappuccino and a light cornetto is a pleasant way to lightly start the day. A typical Italian spread, where there is a spread, will consist of bread, jam, butter, maybe yogurt, maybe cereal if you’re really lucky. Not an unhealthy, insufficient, unpleasant breakfast; but not exactly something to write home about either.

But in America, breakfast is real. American breakfast is a man’s breakfast. It is not a breakfast for wimps. I dream of an American breakfast sometimes. Eggs, scrambled, fried, or sunny-side up. The choice of bacon, sausage, or ham (or the option of having all of the above). Smooth, buttery grits (if you’re from the south, like I am). Hearty oatmeal, topped with brown sugar. And for the complex carbs, the options are varied and always hearty: buttermilk biscuits (my personal favorite), English muffins, thick pancakes, waffles, French toast, and even regular toast if you feel so inclined. All of this can be washed down with a massive glass of milk (an oddity in this country), an equally massive glass of orange juice, and a good cup of strong, American coffee.

There are some who make the mistake of idealizing Italy. It’s food, culture, and history are extraordinary, and it is no wonder that some people wait their entire lives to come here. But there is merit to American culture as well, to all other cultures outside of Italy, in fact. If you cannot see the merits of your own country through the glare of Italy’s novelty, you are in fact blinded by the ideal of Italy, and are as a result likely missing out on much of what it has to offer.