Mid-way through being in Rome, Darby and I were going nuts over now badly we wanted to good hearty breakfast. Italians don't believe in sit down breakfasts, they are always on the go and in a rush to get where they are going, so they have cafe's where you can have a quick cappuccino and grab a small pastry and be on your way. While this isn't far from what Darby and I typically do on our busy mornings, we were still in shambles about not having anything more than coffee and croissants, so we decided to stop at a restaurant for breakfast. We searched the web for so long trying to find somewhere near us that served breakfast food, but we weren't having any luck until I remembered that the restaurant down the street from our apartment had something on their menu called the "All American Breakfast" so we were on our way to have our first breakfast meal in Rome. We look over the menu and see that the meal consists of bacon, toast, eggs, salad, and coffee. We both look at each other and say, "salad?" and just assume it must be a fruit salad, because that is something that Americans eat with our breakfasts. So we sip our coffee and wait for our food to be served, and of course, since I am the picky eater of the two of us, I ask the waiter if I could do a substitute for my eggs. He asked if I liked fromage, I said yes, although I was a little confused I decided not to think much into it. When we get our plates, we see that we were given actual salad, mozzarella cheese, tomatoes, a crispy and very yellow omelet thing, and floppy prosciutto. We weren't satisfied and ended up finding a better breakfast place later in the trip. Our server seemed fairly upset when he saw I hadn't touched anything but my toast. My grumpiness in the morning increases my pickiness with foods. Sorry Italy, but America does breakfast better!
