Last Supper in Rome... Literally
- Joanna
- 8 minutes ago
- 4 min read
I got up early the next morning, ready for my big “Roman food tour.”
Everyone knows I love a good food tour... and where better to do one than in Rome? Even if it is with 12 million tourists surrounding me. I might be exaggerating slightly... There are probably more like 11 million
I was FULLY prepared to eat… and eat a lot… considering the fact that I’d basically slept the entire evening away. I’d gone to bed the evening prior at 5:30 p.m. Lazy bones, I know. But jet lag hits me hard. Very hard.
Now... I’m well aware of the "golden rule" before any food tour: Don’t Eat. I preach it enough myself in my professional life... and nothing upsets me more than to discover that guests have eaten before they arrived. But when I woke up, I decided my best move was to grab a coffee… or maybe a chai… and a wee bite to tide me over until the tour began.
Of course, the big question: where to go?
Hmmm....
Naturally, I had already pinned another solid “recommendation” on my map. It boasted good service, fair prices, and a variety of gluten-free options... my kind of place. Best of all, it was just around the corner from my hotel.
Perfect, right?
Wrong.
The moment I walked in, the staff were instantly rude. Honestly, what could I possibly have done to offend the Romans so thoroughly? Why was I only encountering incivility????
I needed to know.
I caught sight of the pastry counter and motioned to the server that I’d like to take a closer look. You’d think I’d asked to inspect their cash register. He gave me a haughty once-over, then sharply informed me I wasn’t allowed past the second step.
Oh...
Ok.
It felt so unnecessarily cold… completely dismissive. Even the lady inside, behind the counter could do nothing but glare at me.
So… I left.
Unmistakenly banished... again.
It took me about 30 minutes to walk to the meeting point for my food tour. It was in the Trastevere area of Rome. Colourful Trastevere is Rome’s funky, bohemian soul... a neighbourhood with working-class roots, pulsing with creativity. It’s brimming with family-run trattorias, craft beer pubs, and artisan shops that feel more like hidden gems than storefronts.
Our guide, Sunny, was pleasant and cheerful... but I think she looked more Greek than Italian.
There were about 13 of us on the tour... mainly from the U.S., the U.K., and Canada.
Sunny's English was decent, though not entirely perfect. Some of her pronunciations left us more puzzled than the sentences themselves.
A couple from Calgary brought along their four-year-old daughter, who immediately attached herself to Sunny... incessantly interrupting with "fun facts," trying to hold her hand, or climbing onto her lap at every stop.
The guide handled it well...
I wouldn't have.
I admired her patience.
We sampled a variety of Italian dishes, one after another, as we strolled along the cobblestone streets of Trastevere. I took every step very, very carefully. My body was still sore from the last tumble... and I wasn’t ready for a repeat performance.
Although I'd mentioned I was a vegetarian in my tour booking, I couldn't bring myself to add "gluten-free" to the mix, as I would just look too picky... so I decided to just go with the flow... and eat (and drink) whatever was put in front of me.
Pizza came first, each slice a little veggie adventure. There was one with thin potato slices and an alfredo sauce, another with eggplant, garlic, and pesto... and finally, the classic Margherita.
Then came the wine.
Did I mention to the guide that I don't really drink red wine anymore? Not a chance.
We sampled deep-fried rice balls stuffed with tomato sauce and mozzarella, called "balle di sorpresa." (Balls of surprise) After that, pecorino and parmesan cheese bites, followed by Italian pane casereccio bread, topped with homemade pesto.
By that point, I was starting to question my life choices.
All I could think was, OMG, I'm going to die...
Copious glasses of red wine, ridiculous amounts of gluten, and obscene chunks of cheese… a truly lethal combination. All consumed by yours truly. And sure enough, by the end of the tour, as we settled in for an enormous bowl of pasta, my eyes grew heavy, and I knew I needed to lie down almost immediately.
I somehow managed to stumble back to my hotel and promptly crashed for a few hours.
Food tour in Italy...
Good idea - Yes ✔️
Bad idea - Yes ✔️
I always tell myself that when I start making real money, I'll take spontaneous weekend trips all over Europe. But honestly, knowing how badly I handle jet lag at my age, that would be a complete disaster.
Definitely not advisable.
Not for me, anyway.
But… it was my last day in Rome, and honestly, I was kind of ecstatic to get out.
A few things I’ve noticed during my stay:
Romans are unbelievably rude. Like, Olympic-level rudeness. My experience, anyway.
Don’t get me started on the crowds... tourists everywhere. Everywhere.
Diet Coke does not exist. I looked all over the city. This is a massive deal for me. I can give up cigarettes, red wine, gluten, meat, coffee… fine. But my Diet Coke? That’s non-negotiable.
People here zoom down the streets on scooters without helmets. I’m not exaggerating... sometimes 40/50/60/70 km per hour... no helmets, weaving through traffic like it’s Super Mario Kart.
And the Hop-On-Hop-Off bus? Everyone’s advertising it... seriously... at every corner... but I only ever saw one solitary bus go by.
There is no pedestrain right of way... none. I'll just leave that right there.
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